Whore

 

Tell me, what is it like to be such a whore? How does it feel? Are you proud of yourself? Are you pleased with what you have become? Are your parents proud of what their son or daughter has done with their life, to become this thing that prostitutes itself so regularly and with no sense of shame? If only they knew eh? If only they knew the lengths, you go to in order to get what you want. It must be a shallow existence don’t you think? Knowing that nobody truly likes you, that all of the love, affection, friendship, kindness and gratitude has to be bought and paid for. What an empty life that must be? I know you are very good at it. I will give you that. You are a professional when it comes to performing this role. I must admit that I sometimes watch with a strange kind of, well, I suppose it is respect isn’t it? Yes, respect for the way that you work your role. You know what to say don’t you? Those words come easy to you but they should because you have used them often enough on other people. You are a serial offender if the truth be told and that is why the epitaph of whore is so fitting. You know just what to say to get what you want. You know when to say it, what to say and how to say it, just like a hooker parading her wares in a window in Amsterdam. You have worked out your best side, your most beguiling stance and you have them come flocking, every time. I am impressed by it; I have to say. You make it seem so real. You fooled me, there was no doubt about it. You have used your experience and you are experienced, to heighten the sensation so it is better than anything else. It is probably better than the real thing. I know you are just going through the motions but I am wise to you, I would be a fool if I was not, but there are countless of them out there who will fall for it time and time again. You won’t be going out of business, not at all. You will have a steady stream of those willing to have sugar poured in their ear, hear those honey-coated words tumble from those oh so inviting lips. And the promises, oh the promises. So difficult to resist, so inviting, so exciting. They clamour for your attention in the end. I find it odd in a way because you are selling yourself but you don’t actually have to sell yourself do you? They come to you. They flock in their droves, lured by your siren call and you always deliver. You always give them exactly what they want. You did that with me. You knew what I wanted and you provided it for me, in spades. It was sensational and you got me hooked so I didn’t want it from anyone else. That is pretty powerful.

I wish I knew how it felt though. How does it feel to live like this? How does it feel knowing that everything is a show, a performance and it isn’t real? What is it like being so shallow? Do you even care? Perhaps you don’t, after all you are getting what you want aren’t you? Well we both are actually so we should both be delighted with it, but why is it that I am not? Why is it that I feel used? I thought I was the one who was in control, I thought I was the one who was calling the shots and yet I always seem to surrender that control to you. I thought I was the one who got to play the tune and you danced to it but then it doesn’t always work that way does it? I wish I could work out why that was. You make me feel like you at times, or at least you make me feel how I imagine you feel, cheap, used, dirty, a whore.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. This is all you know isn’t it? This is how you have had to adapt, how you have to ensure you survive by getting people to do what you want, to make them like you, to make them adore you and love you. I wonder how long you will carry on like this? Is this the way it is always going to be? Is this you are consigned to do for the rest of your life, seeking a way through the vagaries of your existence by always doing what the other person wants. You need to please don’t you? That’s how you survive. You exist only through the permission and desires of the others. You may think you wield the power, you may think that pleasure, absolute please, joy, ecstasy and delight are within your gift but you are beholden to provide those things because if you do not then you are nothing. You are nothing. Nothing without me. Nothing at all. I made you who you are, you need me although you will tell me that I need you. Perhaps we need one another? I don’t like to think that is the case because I have to be the one that makes the decisions, pulls the strings and gets what I want. I dictate and you react. That’s the way it is isn’t it?

So, you carry on doing what you do best. Carry on imagining that people really do love you, that people really do like you and that they want to be with you because you are so wonderful and delightful. It is your performance that they want and you had better not forget that. You had better remember that you are beholden to their desires. You dance to the tune and he who pays the piper plays the tune. Everybody pays though don’t they? The payment is what it is all about and you always make sure you get paid. You are never short-changed, ripped off or discounted. You won’t do anything without extracting your payment and you make sure you get full value for your endeavours don’t’ you? Nothing for free. Everybody pays. Nothing because you want to do it or feel you should. It is all about the payment. That is all you want, the payment for yourself.

Whore.

I hate you.

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Viral Infection

 

Our kind are like a virus. We attach to those where we know we can infect them. Those who might be immune to us are not selected. The risk is too great and therefore we seek out another host that is far easier to overrun and provides the ideal environment for us to flourish. Your kind are unable to defend yourselves against our viral methodology and it is far too late before you realise that not only has the infection taken a hold and spread, but you also lack the means by which to eradicate it. Yes, you may well be able to reduce its effect and fight back to some degree but just like a virus, we are never completely wiped out and instead we remain dormant, waiting to be activated once more and the nefarious effects of our presence begin to be felt once again. There are six ways in which we infest your life.

  1. We fill up your inboxes

The joy of technology once again serves our kind well. We are able to bombard your inboxes with our words which come so easy to us. Whether it is your text inbox, messaging applications on social media or e-mail inbox, all of these soon become full of us. The inbox becomes burgeoned with our words. The beautiful seductive messages, the declarations of love and desire, the sexual temptations, the downright filthy yet tempting, the romantic and delicate, so many letters and words which have winged their way across the airwaves to nestle in your inbox. They sit there ready to be opened by you, thousands of little gifts awaiting opening as you thrill and delight as you open each one. We dominate your phone with insults, threats and demands, blitzing you with our hatred during devaluation, the incessant ping and buzz generating a sense of fear and dread in you as another malicious missive lands. You wince as you see another insult and swiftly delete it and then when the loving text finally comes, the relief you experience is overwhelming. Even when have vanished you still scroll through those wonderful and uplifting messages that you cannot bring yourself to delete. You read those beautiful words, yearning for the sender to return and issue them again, carefully crafted passionate announcements, tender statements of intent and romantic overtures. You do not want to eradicate these memories and you allow them to remain in those inboxes. They eventually may not be as full as they once were, but their presence remains.

  1. We invade your relationships

It seems such a delightful way to be when we first arrive and we want to know everybody who is involved in your life. We go out of our way to be charming and accommodating to your friends, your family, your neighbours and colleagues. You are thrilled at their plaudits as we happily accompany you to dinner with friends, how wonderful to have such a delightful person on your arm at last. Family events become far more fun with us in attendance. Everybody loves us and you love us all the more for it. We touch each and every person who has some connection to you, making them delight in us. We push away those that do not dance to our tunes, like white blood cells eradicating the enemy, we sweep through your connections and remove those who stand in our way. Everyone else becomes a recruit to our cause as we bolster our coterie and our lieutenants. You will come to regret the access you gave us to everybody that you know.

  1. We sequestrate your resources

Yours is ours. A simple mantra and one we wholeheartedly subscribe to as we avail ourselves of all your resources. We become a fixture in your home, we eat your food, consume your drinks and spend your money. Your utilities become used by us, we camp on to your Wi-Fi and revel in taking anything that belongs to you for our use. You want to go out but you cannot as we have taken the car. You are looking forward to that delicious ham for a sandwich but we have eaten it. The issue of domestic theft does not concern us as like an invading army we march across your territory slashing and burning as we voraciously consume until when we depart, like a departing plague of locusts you are left with nothing.

  1. We pollute your emotions

Your emotions belong to us. They must always be for us to consume as our fuel. They must always be directed towards us. We establish a lien over them, our option is first to take hold of those emotions. At the outset we want your love, your praise, your passion and adoration. Nobody else is allowed to have these things. They must be poured over us. We commandeer them and ensure that we are the recipient of delight, joy, happiness and admiration. We take hold of your emotional construction and then we twist, stretch and warp your emotions so that you find all of the good feelings have been turned into darker emotions. We demand those too, not only have we polluted the way that you feel, we take hold and seize the anger, the fear and the upset which now pours from you. Our manipulations and machinations are designed to turn your joyful heart black with dread and anxiety. Our polluting madness sweeps across you, unchecked and unhindered.

  1. We infect your heart and soul

Steadily, gradually and insidiously we plant ourselves deep inside your heart. We coil our toxic tendrils around your soul as we leech from it, both taking and infecting it with our presence. Through the creation of ever presence we ensure that when we call your heart thumps with excitement and your stomach becomes filed with butterflies. Seeing us walk towards you, smile plastered across our faces causes delight to soar as your soul is uplifted by our presence. Those once feelings of elation become dark and blackened but the totality of the effect remains indisputable. We are with you all the time. You see us in different places even when we are not there, you hear our voice when certain phrases are said by others. Music, oh the music, how it returns you to those tender and intimate moments in an instant, tugging on your heart and coursing through your soul. The smells, the sensations and the sounds all combine to pulsate through your heart and soul, a permanent reminder of us. These reminders bring the tears, they bring the joy, they bring hope, they bring anxiety but they always remain.

  1. We tarnish your trust

The extent of our infection is such that even when you have might have sought to banish us, relegate us to the back of your mind and try to drive us from your life, we still linger, the effects of our tortuous torment of you still very much real and alive. Your ability to trust has become tainted. You dare not trust again for fear of lightning strike twice. You find yourself hypervigilant, second-guessing, assessing and scrutinising and through this heightened state of awareness we remain inside you. Each action or word of another, whether friend of someone potentially eve more special awakens the memory of what we once said and did to you. The eradication of your trust has succumbed to the disease of our presence and thus this works to hinder and prevent your recovery.

Want to shake the disease and learn how to eradicate the effect of the narcissist for good? Watch out for Exorcism: Purging the Narcissist from Your Heart and Soul coming soon.

Why Can’t They See It Too?

WHY CAN'T THEY SEE IT TOO_ 

 

“Okay,” you announce as you turn to the small group of like-minded individuals stood with you, “he will be here any minute.” The members of the group nod. You had hoped there would be more of you, ready and willing to protest, to point out to other people just what I am like. When you approached people to gather their support there was a mixture of reactions. A handful immediately agreed and they were vocal and enthusiastic in their support. Others explained that they had other things to do on this day and would not be able to participate in the protest. You emphasised the importance of the protest not only to you but in sending out a message to the others who would be watching but they were unmoved. The apologies seemed genuine as they explained how they had an existing engagement or they could not let somebody else down. There was also a group of people who agreed but come the day of the protest they were nowhere to be seen. Still, there are five of you and with a concerted effort you should be able to make sufficient noise to attract my attention. The banners and placards should get the message across as well. You have secured an excellent vantage point which means as my car pulls up outside this prestigious building I will have no option but to walk past you and your small band of supporters. There is a nervous excitement in your stomach as you contemplate at long last being able to give me a dose of the truth and also to let the wider world know that I am not the wonderful person I pretend to be but someone altogether more despicable and darker. You have managed to attract the interest of a couple of local news channels who are setup nearby, cameramen and reporters clustered together waiting to cover the event. You promised them revelations about a prominent business man and you cannot wait to see the reactions when you reveal the truth. For too long you have suffered at my mouth and hands and now it is time for some justice. You heft the placard in your hand which has “Serial Abuser” daubed on it in large letters. A banner has been draped across the wall. It is a professional-looking banner which declares – “Abuser Alcoholic Adulterer Aggressor”. You glance at the other placards held by your supporters which detail a range of truths about me which will no doubt infuriate me when I see them and realise they are being broadcast to a wider audience. As you are checking over these placards you notice that a lot of people are streaming into the square. There were some passers-by as there usually are along with people sitting down for lunch on a bench but there are far more people now striding across the square and they are doing so purposefully as they head towards where you are.

“Who are this lot?” you ask. Your supporters turn to see the many people who are now streaming into the square. You notice that they are carrying their own banners and placards.

“It looks like we’ve attracted some additional support,” says one of your friends.

“Excellent,” you smile, “it looks like word has spread.”

“Hey look, there’s Angela, she has decided to come after all,” adds another friend.

“Yes and Tina and Paula. In fact, there’s quite a few of them who said they were busy have turned up. Fantastic!” another friend remarks.

You call out to Angela, waving at her. She turns her head in your direction but rather than the warm smile and enthusiastic return wave you were expecting she shoots you a haughty look and turns away. You halt waving, arm still in the air, puzzled by her reaction. You see Angela nudge Tina who also turns your way and she aggressively pushes the placard she is carrying up and down. You see the word “Hero” written on it Paula’s placard is also then displayed with the words “Golden Boy”.

“What’s going on?” asks a friend nervously. You watch as the group who you thought were friends that you can rely on take up position a little distance away from you. You contemplate going to speak to them but they are soon obscured by the other people who have flooded into the square. You recognise a few faces, some are friends of mine, others are colleagues of mine you have met once or twice and they all carry placards, signs and banners. You feel a sense of dread creeping over you as you look at the writing on them,

“A true gent”

“Generous donor”

“A brilliant friend”

“Amazing lover”

“Pillar of the community”

“Loving son”

“Marvellous brother”

Compliments. A sea of painted and printed compliments that are now being waved in the air as you find you are surrounded by scores of my supporters. You see the television crews panning their cameras across the crowd of eager and enthusiastic people who are chanting my name.

“What is going on?” you wonder aloud. You try to fight down the spreading sensation of anxiety, drawing on the determination which caused you to come here ready to unmask me.

“We need to make ourselves heard,” you announce and turn to rally your supporters only to find they have gone.

“What?” you say to nobody in particular. The placards decrying me lie on the floor and you look around trying to spot your friends who were stood there just a moment ago ready to protest and show me for what I really am. You see one of your friends across the way and you try to push through the mass of people but it is no use. Your mouth falls open as you see your friend now enthusiastically waving a placard which reads “I love you”.

Fuming you turn back to the wall to find a man tugging at your banner.

“Hey, leave that!” you shout at him.

“What did you say?” he asks aggressively.

“I said to leave that banner.”

You push your way to him and try to remove his hands from the banner.

“This is coming down,” he says, “such awful things to say about a great person.”

“What are you talking about?” you say.

“This,” he jabs a finger at the banner, “all lies.”

“No they are not, believe me I know exactly what he is like.”

“Hold on a moment, you are that psycho who has been stalking him aren’t you?” asks the man as a moment of realisation washes over him.

“Me a psycho? Is that what he has been saying about me? That isn’t a surprise. He is the psycho, do you know what that man has done to me? He has put me through hell.”

“Ridiculous. It is just jealousy on your part. You were nobody before he came along and he gave you so much only for you to be cheat on him. You should be ashamed of yourself you whore!” spits the man.

“More lies!” you shout back, but he is not listening as a huge roar erupts from the crowd. You forget about the banner and instead you lean across the wall vigorously waving your placard as my car sweeps into view. The car stops and two black-suited men leap out, wearing sunglasses and they sweep their gaze around the crowd before I get out of the car, immaculately attired, waving at the assembled throng with a broad smile across my face. The cameras swing round and focus on me as my name is chanted in unison. You do your best to make yourself heard, screaming the truths about my real nature as loud as you can but it is to no avail as the chanting of the zealous and appreciative crowd drowns you out. Your frustration mounts as you watch me soaking up the adulation. I walk towards the crowd, flanked by the two men who continue to scrutinise the sea of smiling faces. Hands are thrust out, eager to touch me and I shake hands with people, acknowledging these well-wishers, moving along the crowd until I reach you. I halt and look at you and unleash that brilliant smile, my eyes lighting up, just the way they did all that time ago.

“Hello, how good of you to come, so lovely to see you here,” I say.

“I’m here to let the world know what a bastard you are!” you shoot back.

“Hey, there’s no need to be like that,” admonishes a lady to your right.

Before you can speak I put up a hand and reply,

“It’s okay, this is Victoria, we know one another, I made her life hell.”

“See?” you announce, “at last he is admitting what he has done. That is why I hate him.”

“You hate him because he made your life swell?” asks the lady in a confused voice.

“No, he said he made my life hell, he did, he was awful to me. Tell her, tell her what you did,” you insist. I continue to smile and turn to the other woman.

“It is true, I shoved her, I would beat her, I insulted her and caused her harm,” I say.

“At last, at last, finally,” you announce with a joyous look on your face.

“Yes well, I would look happy too if he said that to me, you lucky lady,” continues the lady next to you.

“Sorry?”

“He said ‘I loved her, I would treat her, I insulated her from harm’ he is such a good man. I wish he were mine.”

“No, you are not listening properly, he did not say those things at all,” you protest.

“This man is a monster. He made my life a misery and he still tries to do that. Don’t you?”

“I make your life unbearable,” I confirm.

“See?”

“He said he makes your life unbeatable,” chimes in a man from behind you, “Lady, I don’t know what your problem is but we are here to thank this wonderful man for being part of our lives, you need to take a hike.”

“Yes, clear off, we don’t need troublemakers like you,” adds another voice. One of the black-suited men wrenches the placard from your hands and snaps it over his knees as you feel yourself being pulled and jostled. You are hauled backwards as the crowd surges and closes the gap where you once were stood. You can see me grinning and waving at you, eyes glinting in delight until I have disappeared from view and you fall backwards onto the hard stone of the square, expelled by the crowd. You feel the tears of anger and frustration along with that familiar sensation of despair as you lie on your back breathing heavily.

“Come on, up you come,” says a voice. A hand takes yours and you are pulled to your feet by an old man who is surprisingly strong given his advanced years. He guides you to one of the benches away from the crowd and its raucous support.

He lowers you to the bench as you wipe away the tears.

“Thank you.”

“Quite alright.”

“Why don’t they see him for what he is? I don’t understand.”

“Ahh, such is the problem when you run into a demagogue,” sighs the old man, “I am afraid you did not stand a chance. Do you think this lot just turned up on spec? Not at all. This mob has been recruited and fashioned for months now. He has been sowing his charm all around and you have to admit he is charming; you fell for it yourself didn’t you?”

You nod slowly.

“So is it any wonder all these people did as well. You are sharp, independent and intelligent and you were taken in. Some of these people cannot see further than their own noses.”

“But I saw my friends supporting him, even my brother as well, why would they do that when they know how badly he has been treating me?”

“Oh he is clever alright. Your brother gets business from him so he is not going to pour scorn on that, not with the economy being the way it is. Your friends? Well, they are not really your friends are they? Two of them have designs on him themselves and couldn’t wait for you to be cast aside. The others all think he is wonderful because that is all they have ever seen and when they are fed such a daily diet they tend to end up believing it.”

“But I told them what he did, I showed them the nasty messages.”

“I know, but he got in first. He told them about your temper and your ability to fly off the handle and of course they have all seen that at some point, so it added up for them. He is very persuasive.”

“I know, but how did he get so many people to support him, look at them,” you wave an arm in the direction of the crowd.

“People like success and they want to be associated with it. Many of them don’t like to think for themselves or get embroiled in aggravation, so it is easier just to bleat like a sheep and follow the crowd. He knows this and he has done this many, many times. You did not stand a chance.”

“But it isn’t fair. I mean, he was actually telling this woman in the crowd what he had done and she twisted it so it sounded like he was saying good things about me.”

“Indeed, he is an expert at twisting the truth so you seem like a crazy person and he remains the golden one.”

“I know, I just wish people would listen and see it.”

“They won’t or only a few will. He invests a lot of effort in cultivating his façade of respectability so that it is near impregnable and he uses this to crush you when you think you might be able to expose him for what he is, as you have seen today. You met the façade and it drowned you out, sucked away your supporters and spat you out.”

“Excuse me for asking, but how do you know all this?” you ask curious as to who this helpful stranger is.

“You aren’t the only one who has seen through him you know? I did too and it got me where you are now.”

“You know him?”

“Oh absolutely, not that he has much to do with me, save when it suits him to turn the mob against me when all I have tried to do is help. Talking of which, we need to leave, he will be going inside soon and then his supporters will be looking to exercise the power of the mob and we don’t want to be still sitting here when that happens.”

“Can’t we challenge them, persuade them, show them what he is like. Now there are two of us, they might listen?”

“They don’t want to know. It is easier for them that way. That is why they cannot see it. The result of a blindness and unwillingness created by his manipulations and their innate failings. Come on, it is time to go.”

And go you should.

Why Does He Seem Like a Different Person?

WHY DOES HE SEEMLIKE A DIFFERENTPERSON_

 

It is accurate to state that we operate in three essential states. There are varying degrees within those states, differing levels of intensity which are affected by factors such as the type of narcissist that we are, what we require from you, the level of empathic individual you are as well as several others. Nevertheless, there are three basic states. The first, as you would expect, is the golden setting. We are at our most wonderful, most brilliant and most loving when in this state. This always appears during our seduction of you and we will reinstate it from time to time and often when we hoover you in order to suck you back in and keep you hanging on to us. The second is the dark setting when we instigate our devaluation of you. This dark setting allows us to deploy our various machinations against you, a variety of different of manipulations as the abuse begins and we make your life particularly unpleasant. This requires effort and energy on our part and whilst we will be rewarded with fuel, a certain degree of application is required to use these manipulations against you. When we unveil our dark setting it is upsetting and confusing but often you will find some reason to explain our behaviour. It is usually the wrong reason but you will find one nevertheless as you like to understand and have a reason to explain why someone is behaving in a certain way towards you – you decide we are stressed, tired, hungover, in need of affection or perhaps you are unduly harsh on yourselves so that you, in that usual empathic manner, blame yourself for the behaviour we have meted out against you. Perhaps you did not listen when you ought to have done, perhaps you should have realised that we wanted to go out tonight, or that we would not want chicken for a second time this week.

There is a third setting and this often proves more confusing that our unpleasant dark setting. This setting might be regarded as a neutral setting, somewhere between the golden and the dark, but it is not. This setting is on the road to the dark setting and is closer to that than the golden. This particular setting is the stranger setting.

There will be times when we do not wish to apply considerable energy to our continued devaluation of you, but the devaluation must continue. It may not be as harsh, since there is no shouting, no violence, no insults and such like. It is not the golden period because we show no affection, we do not do things for you and we do not exhibit any of the charm that once flowed so readily from us. During this stranger setting we are neither wonderful nor awful but we behave like someone who doesn’t really know you and you are certainly left feeling like you are dealing with somebody else.

If you telephone us we will not dole out a silent treatment and ignore your repeated calls. We will not answer in less than a ring and speak to you with affection and enthusiasm, instead we answer and engage in a monosyllabic conversation. It is like drawing teeth. We confirm that nothing is wrong and you may think there is but we have not responded angrily or harshly. We have not accused you of anything, we have not labelled you in some way but the conversation is flat. It is as if our personality, whether golden or dark has vanished and left almost an automaton in its place. We function, we talk about our day but with little detail and certainly no enthusiasm. We ask questions of you but they are polite and perfunctory as if we are just going through the motions. There is no nastiness, no backbiting or sneering. It is difficult to process because it is not nothing, that cannot be the case because we are talking to you, but it feels like nothing.

We may call around to see you but it feels like an inspector has called around. We sit, we decline a drink that you offer us and we answer your questions without offering you anything much in return. Where has the charmer gone? Where has the monster gone? Who is this stranger that looks like us, sounds like us but is not behaving like us? You cannot accuse us of being unpleasant but it feels unpleasant because you are dealing with someone you do not recognise. Any questions about what is wrong with us are politely answered and you are assured there is not a problem, but we seem lifeless. You flatter us, compliment us and whilst we accept them there is no spark of interest, there is no response.

Why are we like this? Why is this being done? Why do we seem like someone else? It is as if we have been abducted by aliens in the night and replaced with a robot which is neither wonderful nor savage but is frustratingly something else. This third setting occurs during the devaluation period. It is not a respite from devaluation as that is the golden setting once more. It is clearly not the dark setting as that is the rolling out of nastiness and abuse. This third setting is an indicator of the calm before the storm. Whilst there are occasions where we might switch from golden to dark setting in the blink of an eye, this third setting is used when we wish to conserve energy in readiness for unleashing a particular savage next stage in the devaluation as we will move to the dark setting and crank it up to eleven. You are not cruising along being driven by fair winds, nor are you being thrown up and down buffeted by a storm, instead you are becalmed or moved along by a weak breeze. This is the time we are girding our loins, gathering information and plotting. The switch of functions to the organisation and scheming of what is to come, along with the intense outpouring of energy required to sustain the vicious intensifying of this devaluation means we adopt this near automatic state. You may not ever see this happen dependent on the nature of the narcissist you have become entangled with, but when you do, you should be aware that a storm is brewing and not just any old storm but a supercell storm of savage and damaging proportions. This is a warning.

Chained

chained1

Are you or somebody you know chained to the narcissist? Are you a co-dependent? What does this mean? How did you become this way? How does the narcissist know what you are? How does the narcissist exploit this condition and how might you escape him? These questions and more are posed and answered in this fascinating book. Delivered direct from the dark-hearted master, the narcissist provides his unique observations on those who are co-dependent and find themselves chained to the narcissist.

US https://www.amazon.com/Chained-Narcissists-Co-Dependent-H-Tudor-ebook/dp/B018MP1BMA

UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Chained-Narcissists-Co-Dependent-H-Tudor-ebook/dp/B018MP1BMA

CAN https://www.amazon.ca/Chained-Narcissists-Co-Dependent-H-Tudor-ebook/dp/B018MP1BMA

AUS https://www.amazon.com.au/Chained-Narcissists-Co-Dependent-H-G-Tudor/dp/B018MP1BMA

On Trial

ON TRIAL

 

“Bring forth the next defendant,” my booming baritone declares from my elevated position. You find yourself being hauled and pushed by two of my lieutenants as the drag you up some stairs. The noise of a raucous crowd grows as you emerge blinking and anxious into the dock. Your eyes dart about the crowded courtroom as you look for recognisable faces but none are apparent. You see elements of familiarity, are those our friends and family, but they seem different in some way? You cannot quite work it out. You just see stroppy wax-like faces, mouths agape, a torrent of bilious noise raining down towards you, fingers jabbing the air, arms being waved frenetically. A seething mass of anticipation and disapproval. The crack of a gavel being wielded cuts through the cacophony and all eyes turn, including your own to me as I sit across and above from you. Attired in judicial robes in accordance with my status, I stare at you, eyes narrowed and you shrink back under this unwavering gaze.

“Well,” I announce, “What have you got to say for yourself?”

You frown, puzzled by this question. You do not even know why you are here. You cannot think straight as there is a throbbing sensation in the middle of your brow and a sickness rising and falling in your stomach. Your shaking hands grasp the rail of the dock but you remain silent.

“I said,” I declare in a louder voice, “what have you got to say for yourself?”

The assembled crowd begin to chant.

“What? What? What? What?”

The noise increases as those who have crammed into the courtroom lean forward creating walls of sneering and sardonic faces all around you. The galleries are packed with eager voyeurs and the noise cascades down on to you. The gavel once again interrupts the crowd and a hush descends. There is an air of expectancy as I and the crowd wait for you to speak. You feel a jab in your side as one of the lieutenants elbows you, a savage prompt for you to talk.

“I don’t understand why I am here,” you say. Your voice sounds weak and quiet but it is apparent that everyone has heard you as there is a collective intake of breath and then you hear the intermittent remarks thrown towards you.

“Idiot!”

“Shameful!”

“So disrespectful!”

“Fool!”

Your eyes go back to me and you see me draw myself up bristling with indignity.

“You don’t understand?” I boom. The crowd start to jabber.

“She doesn’t understand!” “She doesn’t understand!”

“Such impertinence, you should know why you are here,” I declare pointing the gavel at you. The noise of the crowd subsides a they crane forward to hear what you have to say.

“No, I don’t understand.”

“Well you ought to understand and you ought to be addressing me properly,” I continue.

“Sorry?”

“Ah you are sorry are you? What are you sorry for?” I ask seizing on your reply.

“Er I meant I didn’t understand what you meant.”

“Ah, yet another lack of understanding,” I announce to the sound of tutting from the crowd. You can see heads shaking all around you.

“Are you an idiot? A fool? A simpleton?” I ask.

“Certainly not.”

“Certainly not, my lord,” I reply with a smile which bears no warmth.

You frown still unsure what on earth you are doing in this place and who all these people are and most of all why is it that I am sat as a judge presiding over you. I give you an encouraging look. You look left and right feeling uncertain before you speak again.

“Certainly not, my lord.”

“At last some progress,” I say. The crowd nod in approval.

“So, I shall ask you again, what have you got to say for yourself?”

“I do not understand why I am here,” I raise my eyebrows in expectation, “my lord.”

“Well you should!” I explode in a sudden rage.

“Yes you should, yes you should,” repeats the crowd.

“Why am I here?” you say but your question is drowned out by the noise.

“A week of silent treatment,” I announce and slam the gavel down with a loud crack.

“What for?” you cry puzzled and alarmed. There is gasp from the crowd at your question.

“Two weeks for such impertinence,” I add.

“This is not fair.”

“Three weeks for challenging our authority,” I announce.

“You cannot judge me, this is ridiculous, I don’t even know why I am here, I do not know what I am accused of.”

“Three weeks of silent treatment and a dose of triangulation with a replacement of our choosing,” I cry with a gleeful look in my eyes.

“You cannot do this,” you assert.

“What?” I roar, “I can do as I please.”

“This must be against the law; this is not right.”

“I am the law!” I roar.

“Surely you should tell me what I have done?”

“I should not have to do anything that you say, I am the judge.”

“Then what about the jury, surely they should decide whether I am guilty or not, whatever it is I am accused of.”

I look reflective for a moment.

“Yes, you have a point, very well, I shall allow it,” I decree in a magnanimous tone, “never let it be said that this court is unfair. Ask the jury.”

I point towards the jurors sat on the right hand side and you notice them for the first time. They are all staring at you. In actual fact you see my face twelve times staring at you.

“Guilty!” announces the first juror.

“Wait, I haven’t even asked you what I am guilty of yet!” you protest.

“Guilty!” cries the second juror.

“Guilty!” shouts the third.

You shake your heard utterly bewildered by the announcement of these verdicts.

“This is preposterous, no charge has been read out to me, I have not entered a plea and there should be a trial. This is a joke!” you cry.

“Six months of gas lighting to run consecutively to the earlier sentence!” I holler above the braying of the crowd.

“This isn’t fair.”

The pronouncements of guilt continue to ring out as the crowd chant “Guilty, guilty, guilty!” at you.

A man leans into the dock from behind you, he thrusts a microphone under your nose.

“Hello, Ian Sim from the Daily Smear, how do you feel?”

“What?” you reply backing away as another microphone appears.

“Hello, Mark Mywords from the Global Liar, what’s it like to be such a horrible person?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Hi, Ivor Stain from Channel Bias, do you think you can cope with this sentence?”

“May Day from Bad News, did your family make you do it?”

More faces lean into the dock, jostling with one another as questions are hurled at you. The crowd’s noisiness continues as its members drive one another into a frenzy. You see my face times twelve as the jurors leap up and down, hooting and laughing as they point and continue to yell “guilty” in your direction. Through it all you can hear my baritone as more and more punishments are added to the already burgeoning list and your head swims with the barrage of sounds. Faces blur, nausea sweeps across you and your heart hammers in your chest. You feel hot, you feel faint and arms grab you from either side and pull you along the dock.

“What’s happening, I don’t understand, what I am supposed to have done?” you murmur.

“Don’t worry,” says a calm voice and you turn your head to see an elegant lady stood next to you, the lieutenants who were once there having disappeared. Who is this woman? Where has she come from? You have never seen her before.

“Don’t worry,” she repeats, “I will take care of him for you,” she smiles and promptly lets you go. She strides from the dock towards me as you teeter at the top of the stairs, the darkness of the cells somewhere beneath you and then you topple forward and crash into the chasm below.

The Errors of the Ignorant – No 1

JUST LOVE HIM

A series based on the comments made by people who fail to understand the true nature of narcissists and the narcissistic dynamic. Whilst these comments may be well-intentioned, they are incorrect, perpetuate misunderstandings and in many cases create false hope, dashed expectations and perilous outcomes.

It is a common response by those who fail to recognise our kind and also have no understanding of what we are and how we operate to tell the bewildered victim that the cure to our odd and unpleasant behaviour is to shower us with love.

Note that here the timing is important. We are devaluing you and therefore you are already on that slippery slope towards dis – engagement.

If, as someone who has been ensnared by one of our kind, you turn to somebody who is empathic for advice to understand what is going on, you will fall foul of their empathic trait of being a love devotee. This belief in the power of love, whilst a good trait in itself, is corrupted to become a burden when it is added to the equation with our kind. This near slavish belief in the fact that love will conquer all ills and overcome all problems results in an understandable, albeit misguided, injunction to apply more love to the problem with the narcissist.

It is not going to work. It is too late.

This is suggested most often with regard to the romantic dynamic between victim and narcissist. The advisor fails to recognise that the temper tantrums, the silent treatments and the name-calling, amongst so much else, are manifestations of the ignited fury of a wounded narcissist and instead attribute them to something else – it does not matter what the chosen descriptions might be because they are wrong. This means that the advisor fails to identify that the victim is in the grip of a narcissist in this romantic entitlement. They also fail to recognise what this means in terms of behaviour and as a consequence they see the application of love as a panacea which will cure all ills. This does not work with our kind.

There is no issue in providing us with more and more love during the golden period. Indeed, this is what we want and as a consequence of that approach you provide us with plenty of positive fuel. All is well. Of course, your confusion and bewilderment begins when we start to devalue you and you cannot understand why it is happening. Thus, you turn to someone else, some advisor, to try to gain answers for these unfathomable behaviours, volte faces and about turns.

The devaluation may occur for several reasons, when in the romantic dynamic between narcissist and Intimate Partner Primary Source (“IPPS”) but in the majority of cases it is because of the failure by the IPPS to maintain fuel at the right level of frequency, quantity and potency.

If you love us more and therefore provide us with more positive fuel during devaluation then there are several outcomes which can occur, but ultimately they all arrive at the same place; failure.

  1. If the problem was that your positive fuel was not stale but you were not providing it as often and as in the quantities we wanted, then an extra push of loving behaviour from you will remedy the problem BUT only for a short while. You will be granted a Respite Period by the narcissist as your positive fuel shines once again and the golden period returns. This may last for a few weeks, perhaps months, but it will ultimately result in your finding yourself in the place detailed at point three below;
  2. If the drop off in your positive fuel was caused by quantity and frequency issues, then devaluation has begun and there is a risk that we have begun the process of engaging with finding your replacement. Dependent on how advanced those searches are and how effective the prospective replacements are responding, even though you increase the frequency and quantity it may not be enough to save you from continuing devaluation, because of the interaction with one or more Candidate Intimate Partner Secondary Sources. Thus, loving us all the more does not work and your devaluation continues;
  3. The problem may not be the frequency and/or quantity but the level of potency. We have, in essence, had too much of a good thing and our familiarity to your potent positive fuel means it has lost its allure. Consequently, by trying to give us more of something we have become ‘sickened’ to, is not going to work. It is like someone becoming tired of strawberry ice cream and you turning up with a huge tub of strawberry ice cream. You will not stop the devaluation. Even if you managed to secure a Respite Period (see one above) eventually the familiarity issue will appear and you will find yourself in a situation where the potency no longer is effective, no matter how hard you try to love us and show that that love and devaluation will continue.

The consequences of this is that advising somebody to continue to love and to show even more love for us are:-

  1. The creation of a false hope that the perplexing behaviour we engage in will end;
  2. Victims will remain in an abusive and misery-inducing relationship for longer than they need to;
  3. Exposure to potential harm – whether it is the physically explosive response of a Lesser Narcissist through to the enduring mind games and psychological torture of coupling with a Greater Narcissist. The risk is increased of some form of harm – sexual, physical, psychological and/or financial arising;
  4. A complete erosion of the victim as they keep giving and giving of themselves, spurred on by this apparent authority that love will provide them with the answer to the issue and make it all good;
  5. A further false hope whereby if a Respite Period has arisen, the victim is conned into thinking that this increased loving has been successful, when in actual fact all it has done is secure a stay of execution and most likely made the eventual resumption of the devaluation all the harder to endure;
  6. The pollution of the victim. At some point the victim will be dis – engaged with and the failure of this apparent panacea of applying increased loving runs the risk of creating cynicism so that the victim feels unable to and/or unwilling to ever try to love anybody else again in a romantic sense.

This advice provided by somebody who is ignorant about what we are is tantamount to saying to somebody, “Stay in the burning house because eventually the fire will stop and you will then be okay.”

If you are in the romantic dynamic with our kind, all the continued provision of your love when the devaluation has already commenced will achieve is to cause you to be bound to us and it signals to us that there is more negative fuel to be drawn from you because of your desperation to remain with us and to try to apply love to cure a situation which has now become one which cannot be cured.

Mother Knows Best

 

 

MOTHER-2

 

“I love you.”

“I have heard this is a good one for getting a reaction from you because this is what you always want to hear.”

 

“You won’t ever amount to anything.”

“Not while I am interfering in every facet of your life, controlling you and making your childhood and your adult life one long battle.”

 

I just thought I would call you and see how you are.”

“You do not give me enough fuel. You are an ungrateful son/daughter and I regret the day I gave birth to you.”

 

“It is my birthday next week and I just wondered if you had anything planned.”

“I expect something lavish and spectacular so I can be centre stage. If you haven’t planned such an event you are cruel and uncaring, just as I always thought.”

 

“I am proud of you.”

“For once you have done something I approve of and now I can take all the credit for it.”

 

 

“You were quite a challenge when you were younger.”

“I thought you might resist my cold-hearted manipulation of you, but I broke you in the end.”

 

“I suppose you have heard the sad news about your Uncle Paul dying?”

“A death! A funeral! Such a wonderful stage for me to dominate and all those relatives to suck fuel from.”

 

“I am trying to help you,you know?”

“I am trying to control you, stop resisting me.”

 

I have done so much for you. All I want is some thanks.”

“I think I have done so much for you. I need some fuel.”

 

“It was a joke. You take yourself so seriously.”

“It was not a joke. Damn you for seeing through it. I need to back track quickly so I am not accountable.”

 

“You were an accident.”

“Go on cry and make me feel powerful.”

 

“Your father and I have discussed this as we think…”

“I have decided….”

 

“Your father agrees with me so there is no point running to him.”

“Your father knows better than to contradict me.”

 

“I had such high hopes for you.”

“You aren’t doing what I want.”

 

“That never happened.”

“It did but you are not allowed to hold that against me.”

 

“We never thought you would leave home.”

“You were not meant to move out of my control.”

 

“We hardly ever see you these days.”

“You should be providing me with fuel more often.”

 

“You weren’t like this when you were little.”

“You were so much easier to control back then.”

 

“I don’t love you.”

“I don’t love you. I never have.”

Here He Comes Again

HERE HE COMES-2

 

The hoover. A tried and trusted method of gaining fuel and exerting control over a victim once again. Whether they are benign or malign the hoover is an integral part of our repertoire. They are often part of a concerted action which is designed to break down your defences and suck you back in so we are able to exert control over you once again. Sometimes it is to con you into resuming the relationship again, sometimes it is purely to hurt you further and draw negative fuel. We may devise a particular scenario, use other people to effect the hoover by proxy and plan an effective way of establishing contact and then unleashing the hoover. For the hoover to be effective it must have two constituent parts: –

  1. A method of contact;
  2. A method of causing a reaction (positive or negative)

We may have devised a delightful scenario which will cause you to come running back to us oozing sympathy-based fuel but if we cannot establish contact with you it is pointless. This is why I often mention how it may seem that we have left you alone but all it is, is that we are waiting for a moment to establish contact so we can then cause the reaction. We are of course mindful that if you escaped us you have no doubt instigated no contact and that your defences remain high, you are on a state of alert and wary about what we are doing. Sometimes sheer force of the hoover and our magnetic personalities prove enough to surmount these defences but this can take time and in particular energy and as you know we prefer to conserve our energy. There is a particular hoover which I call the Seduction Shuffle. It is invariably a benign hoover and relies on you thinking we will do something and you are wrong-footed when we do not, only for us to then make our move.

The circumstances are such that we allow you to know that we are in the vicinity. This may be through somebody else. It might be by walking past where you live or work. We do not make any approach to you. We do not look towards where you might be watching us from, we do not reach out. All we do is want you to know that we are nearby and then we do nothing.

          You have been expecting us to get in touch. When we first re-appear or you get news of us being nearby you will raise your defences again expecting an approach but then when it does not happen you are taken aback and confused. Why has he not tried to get in touch? He walked past your window the other day but did not even look towards you? He passed the office but acted as if he did not realise? Perhaps he is interested in me anymore? Why would that be the case? You almost feel insulted by the fact that we are back in town and have not looked you up. You wonder what is wrong and in that usual way of yours you start to question yourself. This failure to act when we show up leaves you somewhat bewildered, possibly relieved and your defences come down. Maybe we have moved on, perhaps we are no longer interested in you although you cannot help but want to know why this is. Your curiosity is piqued and you are torn between knowing you should stay away but also wanting to find out why we have not approached you. Is it the case that we are no longer interested? Could this really be true? You need to know. Part of you wants the confirmation that it is over, part of you wants to know why you are not good enough for us to approach again and your desire to know proves difficult to control. Words reaches you from a third party that they were talking to us, but no, we did not mention you or ask about you. This troubles you although you know you should not care, but you do. Admittedly, there may be some of you who will not react to this method but they are in the minority. The desire to achieve some kind of understanding as to what happened, some kind of closure, perhaps the chance to get a few things off your chest still churns inside of you. The fact we looked well has drawn your interest again, rekindling thoughts and feelings from that first seduction, but overall you want to know why the shark is swimming nearby again but has not come hunting for you. We know these thoughts will be going through your head. We know you saw us. We know that you showed disappointment when a member of our coterie said they had spoken to us and not mentioned you. Already you have begun to provide fuel to us and we are content to wait for that delicious hoover fuel. Hoover fuel is always enjoyable, whether relief, joy, loving or upset, it all empowers us but it is especially rewarding when you come into our sphere of influence again. With defences lowered as you think that you are abler to handle our machinations and manipulations now you decide that you want to find out what we are doing back, who we are with and most of all the reason why we have not been in touch with you. The temptation proves too great and after all, one text message or a telephone conversation cannot do any harm can it? Once we see that message from you or your name appears on the mobile ‘phone screen, or we don’t recognise the number but recognise your voice when we answer we can scent even more fuel. You have made the contact and this tells us that you have opened yourself up to provide us with the sought after reaction and this waiting game has once again proven successful. We can now strike and finish the hoover.

Read and understand all about narcissists from the best source possible. A narcissist himself.

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