The Asylum of the Grotesque
“Why don’t you try to love me the way that I love you?” – Paula
“Perhaps if you just tried you could find a better way to something deeper and more substantial.” – Kate
“I know it is within you, it has to be, all you need is to embrace it and place your trust in me.” – Alex
“I know you flirt with all kinds of dirt, but beneath the sin, I know you want to love me like I love you.” – Karen
“If you let me I will show you how to love without condition or cruelty, it can be done by all of us. Just let me try.” – Caroline
I still hear these words from these women (and more besides) as I sit late at night in the large living room to the rear of my house. It is on the first floor and provides me with a commanding view of the fields to the rear of the property, the occasional copse breaking up the undulating countryside. I had two bedrooms knocked together and created this living room where I like to sit and look out across the view as the sun vanishes and the cool, calmness of the night arrives. The sky shifts from the medley of flaming oranges, reds and yellows to a soothing azure and then the darkness descends. Karen and I enjoyed sitting in the large elbow chairs that faced the window. Often we would say nothing as around us the lamps would switch on, a gentle click signifying their creation of a pool of light as the timer activated them one by one.
I will often leave the city behind and come out here so I can sit in this house which I regard as my castle and with a glass of Chablis in hand, watch the sky change colour. The occasional noise of a distant animal might be heard but largely there is silence. The enveloping stillness of a calm world until I hear their words. All of them meant what they said and did so with the best of their intentions. I know that because I could see it in their eyes. Whether it was the earnest green, the heart-felt hazel, the beseeching blue or the inspiring grey, I still see them as they tried to make me see a different way. They wanted me to change. They wanted to make me something else.
Now Karen no longer sits beside me, I rarely bring the girlfriends that I acquire out here. I prefer the solitude, only for a few days. I will periodically check my electronic devices and the winking displays, lists of messages and e-mails sustains me as so many seek my attention. Without Karen, I decide against having the lamps gently bloom and instead prefer the gathering darkness. It is here that I can sit and plan. It is in this quiet that I can marshal my resources, mark my targets and organise my machinations. It is also when I resist those pleas to become that which I regard as impossible to achieve. I prefer to walk amongst my trophies. I stride amidst the frozen tributes to my brilliance as I picture each and every of my conquests as if they are beautifully crafted statues each in a pose denoting my victory over them. There is Siobhan, on her knees looking up at me as she begs me not to go, her pretty features contorted by the pain she is experiencing. Paula sits at a table, her hands clamped over he mouth, her eyes wide with fear as she fights to say nothing, terrified that a word might slip from her lips. Becky dangles limps, the strings rising upwards attached to her hands, her feet, her head, her hips and other places. The broken puppet. Kate stands on tip toe, her face a mask of anguish as with one hand raised above her eyes she peers into the distance as if searching for something, an empty dog lead in her hand. I let my hands glide over the smooth stone that has captured their defeat and embodied it in an eternal stance. My fingers drift over open mouths, curled lips, tear-filled eyes and flared nostrils. I savour the misery, anger and dejection that has been injected into these statues. I regularly walk amongst them and it reminds me of my power, the hold that I have over these people who sought to change me but could only ever disappoint me. Why would I ever want to do what they would have me do? Why would I embrace their suggestions when I can create these monuments to my omnipotence? These masterpieces of misery always reinforce that I am destined to do this for this is what I do best. I am reassured, validated and comforted that my way is the right way when I take a stroll in my asylum of the grotesque.
14 thoughts on “The Asylum of the Grotesque”
Hi Cmum 🤗
It is codependency.
After reading HG’s article, it made me really wonder about the life that we are actively choosing.
I realised today, that narc 3 has actually lost me. I found myself trying to think about him and I couldn’t stir up anything, neither love nor hate. Actually nothing. Which is odd because yesterday I could feel a longing for him and the week before I felt desperate for him. But today, for the first time, absolute indifference.
Then I realised that I feel pretty much the same for my partner. Perfectly comfortable but I’m not in love with him either anymore.
I’m not in love at all. It’s an odd position. And I read that article and it reads as the opposite of what I want.
But I don’t actually know anything about what love is meant to be.
HG….is this fiction or non-fiction?
Quote; “you read here to remember not to forget”.
I still forget…but how?
Why do empaths twist everything up with romantic notions and fairy tale nonsense, when the reality is a dark, cold abyss?
How do we see beauty when there is none? How do we see potential in broken pieces? And why do we think that it’s our responsibility to change the world and help everyone in it? Why do we take on the burden of helping others while we struggle to even consider ever helping ourselves?
HG, I’m not sure anymore, if it is the narcs or the empaths that are batsh*t CrAzY.
I’m looking at it as a sliding scale and I have to say that it’s slipping in favour.
Maybe we are all mad here?
It is a cold dark abyss with us or an amazing golden paradise.
What it ought to be is something that is neither of those things, but you have been repeatedly conned into not understanding nor accepting what a sustainable relationship is, from your perspective.
Too true HG.
I don’t know any different, that’s for sure. I haven’t experienced what’s inbetween.
If I saw the middle, I wonder if I’d die of boredom or live happily ever after!
It can’t be both.
Has anyone experienced a relationship without a narc?
Is it better? Is it satisfying?
You would not die of boredom, your ET makes you think you would so you reject such relationships as a viable option.
Not literally of course.
I do wonder how I’d manage in a normal relationship. I consider it.
I wonder though, if normal people can balance a relationship with empathetic people?
Does it work?
‘You would not die of boredom, your ET makes you think you would so you reject such relationships as a viable option’.
HG this prompted me to wonder (I appreciate an N and a normal wouldn’t last long in an IPPS relationship), but what would a normal think/feel if an N tried to manipulate them in any setting really, either as IPPS, IPSS or NISS? Would they perceive their behavior as odd at all, or just be accepting of it and not give it too much thought?
It would depend on context, but in general terms, the normal is more likely to identify the behaviour as “odd” and is more likely to resist control, usually by distancing themselves.
Hi soon to be sparkling…your comment i can relate to. Ive been with the narc about 8 yrs now and it scares me to think how life would be without him. Its fear of the unknown. Its also an addiction.
I remember one time i broke up with him for a whole week 😄 at the beginning it felt liberating and i felt strong! Towards the middle of the week i felt very lost and i was literally having physical withdrawal symptoms but towards the end of the week i reached this middle ground i can only call peaceful uneventful calm. It wasnt boring it was just calm. He then contacted me with a heartbreaking letter and i was back in! Looking back i wasnt serious about no contact if i had been i wouldve blocked blocked blocked! Im glad i went thru that week bc it showed me it can be done but im sure i wouldve went thru many more stages had he not contacted me.
I do understand what youre saying and i think anyone who stays has work to do within themselves. Its a codependancy.
The drama and challenge for a normal couple often consists of what is happening in the world around them. And the couple unites with each other to battle the world, on their own behalf, according to their goals as a couple, so to speak. And when you are in such a normal healthy relationship, quiet time with your partner, even walking to the dry cleaners together, or even going to the post office together is exciting. You 2 are in your own little world. At all levels. Some people call it, having a life. I call it having a more abundant life. Couples that are overly contained, even if it is mentally, like in a cage, for whatever reason, that then have to find drama from each other, is not healthy. Even if they are in a mansion, and they rarely leave, intrigue will abound. Outside growth and challenges are necessary for normal couple happiness. That is why poor people have worse relationships. They are overly contained within their culture, and so they play out the need for drama and excitement and war and peace, all against each other within their own relationship. That is neither healthy nor normal. That is internal stressors. They actually become adversaries to each other, in such an environment, even for the ones that are not dealing with a Narcissist. When I first came to NYC, I was shocked by the overall small size of the apartments, and yet so expensive, and I asked myself, how do relationships survive in such close quarters? I was right. Many relationships do not survive here. They fail in a greater rate, than in places where the couples and families have more space and outside of the family challenges to interest and entertain them. To breathe. And to find drama. Even creatures, with no malignant motivations against each, will kill each other if contained in close quarters or no other activity other than to fight each other. I remember when I was 13 years old, and my mother told my father that we have to get a larger house or our entire family would start to suffer. We moved, and yes, all of us were much happier, even my father, and he had an entire den for himself that my mother decorated for him, and he loved it, after a while. Ask yourself if you are dating a guy, would it be fun if you just took a walk with him. Or, if you went to a simple store with him. Or went with him as he ran an errand at a computer store or something. If the thought of dealing with the everyday with him, at times, bores you, It is something to think about. He many not be the guy for you. That is all. I was watching a TV series called The Bachelor. This guy took all these girls on dates and with helicopters and yachts and with celebrities singing live while they danced and with big shopping sprees and dinners on private islands, and fun challenges, and black tie dates, and on and on, and when the show was ended, after a while, the majority of those relationships failed. They could not handle the realities of everyday life, after all that drama. So they were in love with the drama and not with each other. So find your drama. Drama is good. But, try not to seek your drama mostly by squeezing it out of a person. And then you will be in what is called a normal relationship. I want a normal relationship. I find plenty of drama and challenges available to me in the outside word. I do not want grief and turmoil from whomever will be my future partner, when I am to be spending precious private time with him. That is how normal people look at this matter. And this is why most normal people are slower moving and more difficult to connect with. They exceedingly want to know if you are going to destroy them with your need of, or your desire to create a lot of interpersonal drama with them, before they will become your partner. Normal people call that `crazy-making.` And normal people are just not that into it.
I am speechless! The picture , the symbolism in the writing, it is astonishing!