I read your e-mails, your text messages and your post. I will become enraged if you do not give me the passwords to access your various forms of social media. I listen to your telephone conversations by standing nearby. I tap your telephone conversations and plant listening devices around your home. There is a GPS tracking device attached to your exhaust pipe. I interrupt you when you speak. I burst into a room when you have told me you are studying. I play loud music when you have a headache. I turn up uninvited when you are attending a function and waltz around as if I belong. I take your money and use your credit cards. I know you have been saving that delicious cake to share with your friends when they are visiting tomorrow but I take two huge slices from it anyway. I will use things that belong to you without asking and use things up that belong to you without buying a replacement. I am the friend that uses your make-up and wrecks the lipstick or causes the nail varnish to dry out. I am the neighbour who borrows your leaf blower and breaks it and never tells you least of all replace it. I borrow your vehicle even though you need it. I stand in your space, in your face and on your toes. I have absolutely no concept of what a boundary is. Why is that? Two reasons. I am so special I am entitled to all of these things as a matter of right. Who in their right mind would deny me access and use of such things and deny my behaviours as just reward and payment for having someone as special in their lives? You are paying for having me around. Secondly, I do not regard you or anyone else as separate to me. You are an extension of me and therefore what is yours is always mine. So no, I don’t do boundaries. Actually, that is not quite accurate. I do not do boundaries but I do lay them down for you. Rigid and inflexible but more of that another time I need to change channel now even though you were watching that programme. Fetch me a beer I know you bought some, I have drunk four already.
Become involved with one of my kind and the issue of money will not be far away. Of my high-functioning brethren money is not an issue. We are successful individuals. Indeed, the driven nature of our narcissism has enabled us to become successful. We are not hampered by concerns about having to please everyone. We have no worries about treading on somebody’s toes and if someone is hurt by our ruthlessness well we have no capacity to care about it so it is onwards and upwards for us. In fact, the world needs my kind to be the achievers which will take risks and create and build in our preoccupation with success and status. The happy consequence of this success is that we have plenty of money and use that during our Love Bombing phase to shower you with gifts and invitations to expensive places. Everyone enjoys receiving those type of things.
You will however then notice a shift in our largesse whereby despite our not inconsiderable remuneration you will find yourself paying for everything. I will forget my wallet or make it clear that it is your turn to pay. We will dash to the bathroom when the bill arrives and you will pay it as we stand watching from across the room to make sure you do, only returning thereafter. We will feign a lack of cash about our person to use yours, pretend our credit card is at its limit to use yours and that we are waiting for expenses and thus have been left somewhat short this month. Why do we do this? Surely we would prefer to continue our grandiose gestures at being in possession of a black Amex card and continuing to show off our financial resource? No, we have given you all that during our seduction of you and now we are delivering the bill for all of that. We see it as being entitled to you paying for us. Even if our initial generosity was not huge, we showered you with love and affection. You owe us for all of that and we will take payment by means of cash, card, bank transfer or hostage exchange. We want to make you pay to reinforce your obligation to us. We are exerting control over you. We are testing you. We want to push you to see how far you will go in paying to keep us with you. How much debt you will carry in order to ensure that we remain together. With everything we do, our attitude to money is framed through entitlement and the need to control you so that you remain attentive and provide us with our precious fuel.
That is how we high-functioning individuals regard the matter of money. I shall touch on in a future post on how the low functioning members of the club treat it, so save your tales of enforced penury until then.
I know a number of you have been curious as to what I look like so I thought it was high time I posted a picture so there you are. Just my little joke. I don’t have a beard. No, the question of spirituality is one that occasionally surfaces. I know of several of my kind who embed themselves in religious groups and congregations because there is a surfeit of care givers and do-gooders available to target. Not only are those who attend worship more likely to be empaths they are also beholden to a set of rules that exhorts them to behave in a thoroughly empathic manner. It is a double whammy of delicious goodness and evidently too good for some of my brethren to pass up.
Where does religion enter to elsewhere into our lives? I was asked recently whether I believed in God. I asked why and the questioner suggested (with fair reasoning I will admit) that she suspected that most narcissists are atheists. The reason for this is that we could not stand to believe that anything more powerful than ourselves exists. It is a good point and I know that it is an applicable one to some of my kind. But not me.
I attended church in my youth at the instruction of my parents. I found it tedious, although I did like the idea of having a pulpit and a captive audience. The history of organised religion interests me – now there were some master manipulators. I should imagine even I could learn something from the archbishops of yesteryear. I also attended a church school. I enjoyed school. It was where I first began to practise my craft and it also provided me the necessary interface with lots of different people, enabling me to study them and gauge their behaviours and reactions. You might regard this as being ahead of my time but I had a good teacher and of course daddy dearest was the headmaster as I have explained way back somewhere on this blog. I had no option to avoid religion. It flowed through the house and school and consequently my life. I was brought up to believe in God and complied with that, for the consequence of rejection was not one I wanted to suffer.
That explains my foundation in my belief but what of now? Has the passage of time and the progression of adulthood eradicated those beliefs? Not at all. If there was no God then how is it that I have been chosen to be as special as I am. Who else would lead and create and test. His power flows through me, I am his instrument and I am blessed with his power of judgement. He chooses many people to further his works and he invests each of them with a fraction of his might appertaining to different facets of his glorious being. The surgeons, nurses and charity workers are chosen to extend his tender caress across the world. The clergy are his mouthpiece, spreading the word and organising those that follow. The brilliant authors, artists, entertainers, inventors, sports stars and musicians have been blessed with an element of his almighty talent and power of creation and they are charged with bringing joy and enlightenment to the masses. For me, my role is to dispense with those who are not of his exacting standard, to challenge the impure, to test those who proclaim to be unblemished and loving and root out those that are the charlatans who do not deserve His perfect love. So yes, I believe in God for his power flows through me and I undertake his works.
I would never hurt an animal, not intentionally. I am an expert marksman but I would never shoot a live animal. I am not fond of animals, I have never kept a pet and I never will. Caring for or hurting an animal has no interest for me. I should imagine that has taken a few of you by surprise. I should imagine that you saw the picture of this fox with his cast and thought, “This is where he shows more of his sadism by revealing that he tortured guinea pigs when he was a child or shot at birds in the garden with an air rifle.” I am pleased to disappoint you. That never happened. I am well aware that hurting animals may be a sign of no conscience but it does not follow that a lack of conscience means that you will hurt animals. I know that certain individuals obtain an emotional gratification by hurting an animal as this is about exhibiting the ultimate control. I regard those that engage in that type of behaviour as low-functioning epsilon semi-morons. An animal cannot answer you back, it cannot tell you things or say the wrong thing. I do think that animals display certain self-centred narcissistic tendencies, feed me, wash me, stroke me, play with me, walk me, clean my living space and so on. They require a lot of attention and that is why I cannot countenance ever having one as a pet. I suspect that is the reason why I have never hurt one.
No, my ire exists for the wounded creature, the pathetic person that is weak. I do not like babies because they are weak and absorb attention away from me. I do not like the elderly, they are weak and they absorb attention away from me with all the help they need. I also want no reminder of how mortality fades and they are the spectres hovering at the end, reminding us that the reaper’s scythe is nearing. I do not like the ill, they are weak and they absorb attention away from me. I think you are getting the picture now. I know you empathic people reach out to these people and that society dictates that these groups should be cared for. That does not resonate with me. They infuriate me. I would rather they disappeared and did not distract from my purpose. Should they come within my reach they find themselves subjected to my irritation and displeasure which results in me lashing out with acidic tongue and savage words at them in order to exhibit my annoyance. I know you regard that as wrong but I am just being honest. It is what I feel. Now you know why my kind ditches you for a younger model, pays no interest to the birth of our child and why our kind always vanishes when you are ill or injured and in need of care. We have no desire to be reminded of weakness, not when it threatens us from inside on a daily basis.