As an adult child of narcissistic parents, I am vomitously sick of that word narcissist.
No One Knows What It Means
1. For starters, no one knows what it means. Is it your everyday air-glossed Facebook or Instagram preening? Twenty-something navel-gazing? Self-centered vanities reflected back constantly by the media? Is it the girl you broke up with (or are unfortunately still dating or, worse, married to) who turned every topic back to her and never said sorry for anything? Is it that mythical pretty boy, Narcissus, who fell in love with his own reflection? Or is it something clinical, a serious pathology?
You Hear the Word All the Time
2. Although nobody knows what it means or what anyone else means when they say it, you hear the word all the time. A continuously erupting informational flow tells us how to tell if we are dating a narcissist, raising one, or awash in a sicko culture of them, the most prominent one being our president. Self-helpers advise us how to handle them (“How to Confront a Violent Narcissist”—don’t); amateur videographers capture them behaving badly; members of chat groups grope for support (“Help, my NF [narcissist father] tried to drown my dog”); and websites trade in jargon: flying monkey, hoovering, gaslighting, scapegoat, golden child.
Resisting the Word Is Next to Impossible
3. The word is loathsome because, as with an actual narcissist, resisting it is next to impossible. Against your seasoned better judgment, seeing or hearing narcissist triggers your interest, and like a drooling dog waiting for a pizza slice you hope for mouthfuls of insight and understanding that are rarely delivered. Like the child of the narcissist who craves authentic parenting, you’re lucky to get tossed a hunk of dry crust.
You Worry Maybe You’re One
4. Then there’s the twitchy discomfiting thought the word raises: Am I a narcissist? Even if you know that the fact that you’re asking yourself the question means you’re probably NOT a narcissist AT ALL, it’s still deflating to have the thought, especially if you’ve been wronged, possibly devastatingly, by one.
You might go so far as to take idiotic on-line tests to prove to yourself how very unnarcissistic you are. That you know full well how to answer the test questions to produce a score clear out of narcissist range makes you wonder yet again, Am I a devious narcissist? The answer is still probably NO, but once again your history with a narcissist has contaminated you, insinuated self-doubt, and led you down another rabbit hole wasting time better spent. It’s as if the word itself engenders the trait. And then all the wondering about yourself triggers another trip around the loop: But, really, I am actually a narcissist?
It’s Drag-Ass Depressing
5. Fundamentally, narcissism is drag-ass depressing. It’s the opposite of other words, such as love, compassion, truth, and empathy. Narcissism at its most extreme begets crimes within relationships and families, crimes against humanity and nature. Narcissists are full of rage, often violent, and capable of cruelties from quotidian to epic. The full-blown narcissist is a grandiose tyrant lacking or entirely devoid of empathy. Some believe the narcissist is in love with himself, but in truth s/he is covering a gaping internal void with constant assertions of superiority and entitlement that turns on a dime into rage and attack when s/he feels vulnerable.
If you’re not a narcissist and happen to love one, it’s difficult to avoid getting trapped in the bankrupt business of trying to help or heal him/her. If you have the misfortune, like me, of having narcissistic parents, it’s even harder not to cling to the delusion that you can somehow, finally, win their love.
It’s Hard to Say and Spell
6. It’s the red-dye-40 frosting on the burnt cake that the word narcissist is so blasted hard to say and spell and requires so much attention to get right.
Even if you know how, it taxes the hand and eye to make sure the c, i’s, and s’s are tallied and placed right. Should it end with –ism, -ist, or –istic? Should it, like a country, be capitalized? Even speaking the word can trip the tongue, as if in spite. Saying it, with all its repeated hissing sounds, makes you feel like you will never, ever be done.
Julie L. Hall is the author of The Narcissist in Your Life: Recognizing the Patterns and Learning to Break Free coming December 3, 2019, from Hachette Books. Preorder your copy now.
Need support? Julie provides specialized narcissistic abuse recovery coaching to clients around the world.
Related Articles by Julie L. Hall
- The Overt Versus Covert Narcissist: Both Suck
- Maddening and Bizarre Things About Narcissists Explained
- The Hidden Trauma of Neglect in the Narcissistic Family
- The Narcissism Disease Cluster in Families and How to End the Cycle
- Why Narcissists Will Never Love You and It’s Dangerous to Love Them
- How Narcissists Torture Others and Believe They’re Right to Do It
- The Narcissist’s Disrespect, Envy, and Contempt
- Why Narcissists Play the Shame Game
- How and Why Narcissists Are Highly Skilled Abusers
- The Narcissist Parent’s Psychological Warfare: Parentifying, Idealizing, and Scapegoating
- 7 Defining Traits of the Narcissist
- Raised by a Narcissist? 11 Healing Things to Do for Yourself Right Now
- The Paradox of the Narcissist’s Unrequited Self-Love
- It’s You and Me Baby: Narcissist Head Games
- 7 Things a Narcissist Will Never Do
- The Narcissist as Human Parasite: Are You a Host?
- 4 Insidious Ways That Narcissistic Abuse Isolates the Victim
- Behind the Narcissist Mask: The Bully, Coward, Liar and Fraud
- How to Protect Your Child from Your Narcissist Spouse
- The Challenge of Setting Boundaries with Narcissist Parents
- Understanding Narcissistic Rage and Why It Is Not Your Fault
- The Strength of the Scapegoat in the Narcissistic Family
- Adult Children of Narcissists Face Trauma-Induced Health Risks
- Seven Sure Ways to Spot a Narcissist
- The Dos and Don’ts of CoParenting with a Narcissist
Image courtesy of Damian Gadal.
View Comments (13)
Julia, I thought I'd check out your site today after our conversation, and am glad I did. Loved this post! I am so glad to have met you and made your acquaintance.
Thanks Risé. I just launched this blog, and you are my first commenter. It was a pleasure meeting you too. The scapegoat's redemption is breaking free. Wishing you all good things.
You said that so well, 'the scapegoat's redemption is breaking free' - so true. Wishing you blessings as well.
u r a very excellent writer Julia.
Thank you Liz. Best to you.
This entire blog mirrors exactly what my experience was. Unfortunately I have NVLD, and two narcissistic parents. I was repeatedly gaslighted and abused emotionally and physically. One of my parents was law enforcement, so he got away with some pretty heavy damage that I can't even talk about. They would also use mental hospitals as a form of punishment. Since my NVLD prevented me from being able to speak properly, I was often bullied at school while I was based at home. Getting professional help has been an uphill battle. My side was often ignored, because the doctors would only listen to my parents and ignore my scars... believing I did it to myself. :(
I wish I can find a doctor that won't throw pills at me and lock me away. That is what my parents always wanted when they made it clear how much of a failure I am to them. When I reach out, I am accused of making it up. But I still have nightmares about it all tof the point I can't even function half the time.
Dear Amanda. Thank you for writing. I don't have experience with nonverbal learning disorder, but I can imagine it must be very challenging and a particularly devastating vulnerability in dealing with N parents. I'm so very sorry. Someone very close to me has SPD (sensory processing disorder), and I imagine there are some similarities with NVLD. Nightmares are not surprising at all considering your experience. Take care. My best wishes to you.
Part of the aftermath of abuse is that even survivors have difficulty in describing what our abuser did to us. I believe that may be why so many of us fall back on terms like narcissism. We assume that others will understand what it means, but it can lead to confusion. So if using terms like narcissism is fraught with difficulties, why not just describe the things these abusers have done? Some people just immediately stop listening when jargon is used, such as "my parent is a narcissist who uses triangulation to control others". I'm more likely to be understood when I say that she consistently lies to and about me and has trained my siblings to attack me verbally and emotionally whenever I refuse to do what she wants or to stay silent about how she's hurt me. Truth is a very powerful thing, and describing what was done to us packs a bigger punch than attaching a label to it.
Just call them psychopaths as they were once categorized and be done. Their behavior is well beyond conceited and self-centered. It's psychotic.
I have two "psychotic" sisters, 14 and 6 years older. I call them the "complainer" and the "braggart". They appear to be completely void of self-awareness. I held the scapegoat position with both our parents, who kicked me out at age 18. I was not a bad kid, made good grades, was National Honor Society, and editor of the school paper. None of this made any difference. I was called names, e.g., fat ass and lard ass, and was told I was "none of this and none of that" by my father for years. He thought it was funny. I despised him, still do, and have never grieved that either of them is gone. If I didn't act the right way or say the right thing to my mother, she routinely called me "goony".
Authentic parenting was not anything they could do. Get this, my narcissistic mother told me not to cry at our father's funeral. I only had tears because my niece (who loved her grandpa) was crying so hard. It was not or him. Years of therapy, reading, and support from others (certainly not my family members) has brought me to some awareness.
Bless all the victims of the narcissistic family. They will kill your spirit if they can. Like vampires, they will suck you dry if you let them.
Mary B.
Ha. Totally agree. I love how you mix the humor with the macabre. I really just got complete awareness of the extent of my NarcAbuse and my NAS this week. After 3 1/2 years I escaped a few months ago. Couldn't figure out why I was miserable rather than elated after my escape. Finally found info about my CPTSD online. I've run into the problem of describing it to others.
I would love love love to have words to describe my perp's (I no longer refer to her as my g/f or ex-g/f or former fiance – kinda like I wouldn't refer to a kidnapper as "a guy I used to hang with") psyche and her behavior and my experience.
So far words don't come close.
I've kinda decided that for now no one really needs to know and I'm sick of trying to explain it – trying just makes me feel worse.
But the one thing that has felt amazing is reading everyone's experiences online and knowing that without words, we and we alone understand and acknowledge and affirm each other's recovery.
The single best thing I found online was a co-sur-thriver's piece acknowledging how hard it for people to find the words to describe the experience and it just ends "I believe you".
So that is my new mantra as I go forward and try to give the help to others I have freely been given, "I hear you, I believe you."
Wow, you really nailed how I feel about it too- down to the last point. Thank you for sharing this.
If you hate the word, maybe you should come up with something else. I am old enough to remember when such persons were described as big assholes and avoided. Sometimes they were referred to as "bad seeds". People just knew that they weren't "right in the head" and bad news all around. But then the psychological industry got a hold of these pathologies, claimed a complete understanding of them, and now it's nonstop "narcissism".
These bad seeds are born, not made.