You know how the country is kind of falling apart and
everyone feels like they’re going insane? Like how suddenly wrong is right and up
is down? Like how half your family/friends/acquaintances/countrymen literally don't understand what you’re saying anymore? Like how you’re scared
to stop being constantly vigilant but you’re also completely exhausted and just
want to hide under the covers? Like how sometimes screaming at the top of your
lungs feels like the only thing that makes any sense?
Welcome to life under the control of a narcissist.
THIS. This exact feeling of spinning out of control and
never knowing what kind of chaos you’re going to encounter around the next
corner – this is what it feels like to be subject to the control of a
pathological narcissist. THIS is what it’s felt like for 42 years, being my
parents’ child.
I’m not going to link to all the articles in the popular
media lately on this topic – but they’re there. I’m not going to link to all
the peer-reviewed scientific studies of treatment failures for this flavor of
personality disorder – but they’re there. Let me summarize them all for you:
pathological narcissists are incurable and impossible to deal with.
And I don’t
mean “impossible to deal with” as in: “oh, knock it off, you’re being so
difficult.” I mean: there is literally nothing you can do or say that makes the
situation better. Ever. You can’t try reason or logic, you can’t try
mollification, you can’t even try anger. NOTHING WORKS.
I guess in some ways, the last three weeks – despite being
deeply unsettling and not the least bit triggering – have been oddly
validating. For the first time, I could (should I choose to) say to another
rational adult: “Hey, you know how this president is making you feel? That guy
is like my dad’s clone. So I’ve had some struggles.” And that rational adult
might actually, TRULY, understand what I’d felt.
So my parents came for Christmas and it was, predictably,
horrible. Four days of counting the seconds until they left. My father made
oblique references to future visits and I literally did not reply because I’m
not actually sure I can tolerate being around them at this point. After 4 VERY
unpleasant visits in 2016, I’ve reached a point where I’ve pretty much given
up. We don’t have a relationship. I can barely tolerate calls with them at this
point. (See previous statements about nothing working, being impossible, ect)
The argument that began at Christmas has actually dragged
into February and I, quite literally, do NOT have time for this shit. My
husband and I are both trying to navigate very demanding new responsibilities
at our respective jobs while also trying to maintain our health and relationship.
Dealing with added nonsense is well, just that. Nonsense.
You know how everyone just wishes we’d wake up from this
awful national nightmare and we’d literally never have to talk about these terrible people again?
SAME.
