Narcissists Say the Darndest Things: Great Quotes by Narcissists
Posted in writing on November 25th, 2009 by Merrill MarkoeTags: assholes, egomania, narcissism, Narcissists, quotes
https://ragadamed.com.br/2024/09/18/l3dhe26k5 This is a page on which I hope you, the person who knows an annoying narcissist, will contribute a little something. I am seeking a collection of great memorable quotes by the narcissist in your life. I want the quote that makes your head spin and your mouth hang open with its egomaniacal cluelessness; The quote that you fish out to tell your uncomprehending friends at dinner parties in order to better describe the problem you have had with this person.
go to site To get the ball rolling I will give a few examples. The first is from my own mother whose comment, after reading the first professional piece of writing that I finished, was “Well, I don’t happen to care for it but I pray I’m wrong.” A close second goes to her follow up reply, after a request that she withhold any more criticism if she wanted me to show her anything else; “No more criticism? If I can’t criticize you, what am I supposed to talk about? The weather?”
enter Another good example comes from a mother of someone I know who commented, after being told that her daughter was molested, “Oh my God! Do you think I was?”
follow link Okay: Your turn.
https://livingpraying.com/ld4cmx8hud5 This entry was posted on Wednesday, November 25th, 2009 at 10:44 and is filed under writing. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.
https://everitte.org/nof4qcmh3t November 25, 2009 at 8:04 am
https://www.fandangotrading.com/1sktfheg As the eldest of three children I foolishly tended to take it personally when my mother told me (repeatedly and from age 3 on !) that “having children ruined” her and my father’s lives.
enter site Eventually I learned to respond with, “Yeah, mine too.”
follow site But probably the crowning example would be on my sixteenth birthday: Her dinner table toast: “Having you children ruined our marriage. We had such fun before you were born. But Happy Birthday anyway, hon.”
source url And then my father “gifted” me with an unwrapped, pre-read (by him), oops-I-forgot “present” of Truman Capote’s “In Cold Blood.” Seriously.
go to link That’s a hard one to beat!
I’m sending this link to friends who may have something to contribute.
follow url ouchhh — that’s really awful.
https://www.thoughtleaderlife.com/v4h3y9hu6x When I was 10, my mother sought my wise advise about the man She was dating. She asked me if I thought she should marry him. I asked, “Do you love him?” She said, staring at me in surprise, “I didn’t think about that. I just thought I Should be married, not single, you know.” My mom in a nutshell….. and I Could go on, and on, but it kind of feels like bad karma. You know?
https://boxfanexpo.com/x9ry74hmi45 No, no. NOT bad karma. Definitely not. It’s you putting your life in to the proper perspective. Also there is no chance she is going to find this page. I would put money on it. But if she did…she’d probably like the attention.
https://www.modulocapital.com.br/l9zvs1y I once dated a girl who regularly bombarded me with casual cruelties, like “I can’t believe how bad your hair looks”, and “I always thought I’d date someone smarter than me”. When I eventually told her how often she hurt my feelings, she broke down crying, and said “I guess I never imagined that you have feelings, too!” Can’t believe I didn’t marry her.
go here That’s a great one. I love her weeping remark. Outstanding.
https://www.fandangotrading.com/zzdvrwpb 1. My mother, upon the occasion of my finding my first gray hair: “Do you know how it makes me feel to have a daughter with gray hair???”
2. An early date with my ex. He walked out of the room after I finished telling him about my day. When called on it, he said “Oh, I didn’t know you required a response.”
3. My ex, immediately after we talked about a sexual miscommunication: “It’s important to me that we talk about these things so that I can improve, whether for you or for other women in the future.”
Diazepam Buy Now A nice assortment. You are to be specially commended for the work you did to help the women of the future.
enter 1. “The main issue was that the article was sadly influenced by a poisoned source. ”
A tweet made by an author/speaker marketing himself to the cool Christian crowd in response to an article that raised some valid questions pertaining to his work. I am the poisoned source even though I had no hand in writing the article and the author isn’t the type of person who is easily influenced anyway. I had a falling out with this person when I began to question some changes in his ministry – rather than meet with me so we can talk things out, I’ve been the victim of a smear campaign.
https://www.drcarolineedwards.com/2024/09/18/dqmpky5z11i 2. “I don’t know how to respond to your email because I’m seething with venom. ”
This was conveyed to me via email by a priest who contacted me about doing some reporting on his post 9/11 ministry. Given his role in the recovery effort, seemed like a story worth pursuing. Our problems began when I started questioning why he was promoting to his funders that he was building a forgiveness garden at Ground Zero when there were no permits in place. I was trying to caution him not to make statements that could get him into trouble with the IRS. This forgiveness expert refuses to meet with me so we can talk things over.
source url 3. (I don’t remember the exact email here but this is the gist) “I am sorry to inform you that my appearance on CNN today had to be canceled due to their coverage of a plane crash. But not to worry, I’ll be on tomorrow.”
At the time a plane had crashed in Miami and people were known to have been dead but the exact details were still coming in. This was a Christian promoting his book and didn’t bother to say anything like “our prayers are with these people.” I unsubscribed from his email that instant – I was on his list as I interviewed him re: a previous book.
https://www.modulocapital.com.br/pm8mo8fw8 I have other examples but I think I’ll stop at this unholy Trinity.
https://livingpraying.com/r1fva41s76r My father told me the only reason he hadn’t killed himself yet (after I ruined his life by writing an anonymous essay about him for a magazine), is because of how it would make my mother look–and “she’s built a nice reputation at the school.”
source link BTW: Laurie has a great new graphic novel about her issues with her completely wacked father. Its called The Imposter’s Daughter. You can see excerpts from it on her website: Lauriesandell.com
Buy Valium Cheap Online My grandmother, disappointed that the boy I brought home was neither Jewish nor a doctor, said, “All I ask is that you make me happy.”
see url I’ll try to think of more …
https://technocretetrading.com/ae9mjyw4i That’s all she asks of you and yet you let her down. Very funny.
https://ragadamed.com.br/2024/09/18/zccev8mo0h You want your own sister to hang out with a guy who isn’t as good looking as she is? What is wrong with you!!
enter site While it may more insensitive than narcissistic, I’ll offer the following, said by my mom-in-law in front of her son, my husband (who was president of his high school class, 7th in same class, went to a near ivy league college and earns a great living at a high pressure job):
“This is my daughter-in-law, the reason my grandchildren are going to be brilliant.”
She has said this many times while introducing me. I am complimented and chagrined for him all at once. He’s used to it.
go Well, I’ll tell you one thing that quote reveals. She’s tactless, disrespectful and has a mean streak.
https://semnul.com/creative-mathematics/?p=s59mwl7u My brother lost his job of 25 years. My sister and I went to lunch and her comment on the subject was, “I wouldn’t mind seeing him in a job he enjoys next time.” Yeah, forget how he’ll pay bills and otherwise support his family. Let’s be sure Sis is happy. Then there’s my niece who was bummed when her sister split with her boyfriend of many years. Her comment? “This means I have to get use to the next guy she decides to date. Bummer!”
From the comments you’re racking up on the subject, it’s clear: Many of us live with and among narzis.
follow site Believe me, I have contributions. I’ll submit a quick one before I put the turkey in.
https://boxfanexpo.com/qb4cxqgy6l I live in an area that is frequently visited by hurricanes and threats of hurricanes. I won’t mention the state, but it’s a peninsula with a panhandle and I apologize for what happened in the 2000 election.
Through the years, there has been no shortage of people who have prayed or have asked others to pray that God will shift the direction of an advancing hurricane so they’ll be spared. The concept is startling enough, but when the wording is spoken by someone fluent in Sanctimonese, it is really something.
A general recap is not good enough, Miss Margaret. I want QUOTES.
If I resubmitted it, will it affect my overall grade or is there some grace because it’s Thanksgiving week?
I feel so damn lucky. My family was as disfunctional as 99.9% of families, but there was no narcissism.
It’s too bad there isn’t a genetic test for it before anyone is allowed to reproduce—but– then there would be no wonderful writers, teachers, therapists , etc like those who’ve shared their experiences on this blog. I guess it does make you stronger.
Thank you, Merril.
Now, along with thinking of all the things I’m grateful for, I also seem to be dwelling on memories of fun examples of narcissism.
At the elementary school bus stop, another mom was telling me about the unexpected death of a dear friend of hers:
“I haven’t been able to stop crying. I feel so bad because her children are still teenagers and it’s hard enough to be a teenager without losing your mom…I’m just so sad…it’s still sinking in…I’ve been so stressed and sad that I’ve had a migraine since the night we got the news. I just can’t believe it happened. And the worst part? The funeral is on my birthday.”
Said to my husband by his ex before they were officially divorced: “Do you realize that if you died right now, I would be a WIDOWER?? I mean, think about that, Michael…I WOULD BE A WIDOWER!!”.
Funny on two levels!
That’s hilarious.
My father was textbook NPD, but I think I’ve blanked out most of his remarks over the years. I don’t talk to him anymore because life is too short, but he’s pretty sure I’m still angry, 21 years later, that he divorced my mother. This is a point from which he cannot be dissuaded, even though it’s been pretty nice to see my mother become a real person during that time apart.
There are some classics, such as when, as a very little girl, I asked what happened while he was in Vietnam (as an air traffic controller for a hospital base): “They were trying to KILL ME!” (Most textbooks entirely missed that particular part of the war, btw.)
There’s also the fact that any time I brought home less than straight As, I was exasperatedly asked what he was supposed to brag about at work now. Right–I forgot that was why I was supposed to ace algebra.
Merrill,
I feel woefully inadequate–my mother and grandmother are/were queens of passive-aggressiveness, not narcissism. So I have nothing to contribute to this round. Can I request a passive-aggressive follow-up sometime? ; )
But I’ve posted a link to this on my Facebook page, because I’m willing to bet some of my friends gathered some quotable gems at the Thanksgiving table today.
May I please have the honor of a great passive aggressive quote?
Let’s see…how about a Thanksgiving quote? Thanksgiving dinner, circa 1987, table full of relatives. My grandmother to my mother (her daughter), “Oh Gertrude,” she sighs with what sounds like overwhelming love, “You look so pretty, but… (one more loving sigh) I _wish_ you’d find a more flattering hairstyle.”
My mother’s taken the passive-aggressiveness to a whole new level–she doesn’t tend to stoop to anything as trivial as one-liners. She goes conceptual–for example, every major holiday, without fail, no one in the family knows when she will arrive at our house.
We never know when she’ll leave her house (which is a 6 1/2 hour drive from us). She simply refuses to let us know her plans in advance OR to call when she departs OR to call en route. (I’d like to point out that my mother does NOT work for the CIA, so the secrecy is really unnecessary).
Sometimes we think we know when she’s coming–only to find out hours after her “expected” arrival time, when we call her convinced she’s had a car accident and is in a hospital somewhere, that she’s having an omelet in a diner and has decided to stop at a motel and drive the rest of the way the next day. When confronted about this, she’s always vaguely apologetic. The best part? After 15 years of this, my husband STILL asks me, “So, when’s your mom coming for (fill in name of major holiday here)?” And he’s always surprised at my response!
Btw, I haven’t done this myself, but I’m pretty sure you can record video & audio from Skype calls–maybe you could set up Skype interviews with folks who have great narcissist stories? I think there are some online tutorials out there.
Happy Thanksgiving!
p.s. my mom got here 20 minutes before Thanksgiving dinner this year. This was a good year!
Congratulations, Katherine.Not only is that story pretty hilarious but I think it contains many elements of real narcissism. Your mother’s behavior is so self absorbed and inconsiderate that I don’t think the passive aggressiveness she no doubt exhibits disqualifies her in the least.
Wow, Merrill–thanks! You’re right–how could I have missed the narcissism inherent in my mother’s behavior? I’ve spent years thinking of her exclusively in passive-aggressive terms, but this whole narcissism angle really opens things up to exciting new interpretations. And just in time for the holiday season!
As far as I know, passive aggressiveness and narcissism are not mutually exclusive. Happy Holidays!
When my former partner and I separated, this is what his mother (who lives on the other side of the ocean) said: You’re ruining my life! How can you do this to me?
My former partner has a somewhat arrogant streak when it comes to fashion, and he commented: It’s too bad you never learned how to be a real female, you really need to listen to my advice! If you would just wear what I tell you to, you’d be presentable and I could walk around with you.
Yikes. How could you let a catch like that get away? Tomorrow, buy yourself a nice new dress and go chase after him.
Oh – I thought of a few that weren’t work related …
1) When I was 18, I was spending the summer with my grandparents at their chi-chi country club. One night like many teens I went to a party and had too much to drink. I was a mellow drunk – all I did was go home and throw up. As I was nursing the hangover from hell, my grandmother said, “Honey, if you ever do that again, I’ll have to move cause my reputation will be ruined.”
1a) Same grandmother also said “your mother killed your father by divorcing him.” (Both parents died of alcoholism.)
2) I was talking with an aunt about how I was working on staying healthy and lost some weight. Her response “Yeah but your ass is still big.” (She is easily two sizes larger than me).
3) An uncle I hadn’t seen for two years told me over dinner “When I saw you the first thing I noticed was your double chin” (I was not overweight and he is.)
Upon the occasion of my 40th birthday, my mom told this sentimental story: “When I was pregnant with you, I stayed so thin that nobody even knew I was pregnant until the 8th month!”
I was in a comedy group, waiting backstage to enter and do an improv. It said my name in the program, so my parents, who were there, knew I was going to be in this one. When the director asked the audience to give a suggestion of a family problem, my father shouted out, “What do you do when you want your daughter to be a doctor and she wants to be an actor?”
I had co-created a TV show and my mom informed me that she was having a party and inviting all of her friends to watch the premiere with her. When I told her that I had already committed to go to a party to watch the show with the cast and the other writers, my mom said, “Oh, that’s ok. We’ll be fine.”
I have a friend who’s much much more successful than I am in the business. I was directing a TV movie and had had a great day. My friend called to talk to me, forgetting entirely that I was directing the movie. I reminded him and told him what I blast I was having. His response was, “I can’t believe you’re getting to direct a movie before I am.”
I could go on and on. I am a narcissist magnet. But that will do for now.
In addition to supplying four fantastic quotes, Robin is the woman from whom I took the beet salad recipe that is posted under a blog whose title contains the words “beet salad recipe.”
“You know, I really think times like this are harder on the spouse than the patient.” -Mom at the hospital while Dad was recovering from surgery where an organ had been removed from his digestive system.
Now THAT’S a good narcissism quote. Your grade is no longer is any jeopardy.
I don’t really have quotes because my family is much more about the gestures. I’m the person whose mom’s gift of a subscription to Better Homes & Gardens caused a friend to ask, “has your mother met you?” This year’s gift subscription’s even better — it’s Outdoor Photography. Which is not really a big hobby of mine.
I was mystified until I found out she got the same subscription for my brother, too.
I have another brother from whom I am mostly estranged, not because we’ve had a falling out but mostly because he’s generally too busy to keep in touch. In fact, he was so busy that he opted out of attending my wedding. But he did send a very generous and thoughtful wedding gift: over 4 hours of videotape of himself. A tour of his apartment, a tour of his workplace, a tour of his city. I don’t think I managed to watch all of it.
It probably says something about the effect of all this behavior that posting these comments even semi-anonymously makes me feel ungrateful and bad about myself.
“Has your mother met you?” is really funny. But I love the four hours of video tape. He was afraid that attending your wedding wouldn’t provide him with enough time. Do NOT feel bad about discussing this stuff. In my opinion, it is what needs to be done to put things in to a workable perspective.
Here’s a passive-agressive npd quote from dear mom. I’d won a book as a prize at high school. My mother asked if she could read it. I told her that I’d like to read it first, but (silly me), I’d let her read it. When I got it back, she’d underlined the Whole book (in pencil, so I could erase it….). I asked her if she’d at least liked the book, and she said, “Oh, it was a bit boring. Don’t even ask me to tell you what it was about.”
Mom is a gem!
Also, before she returned the same book, she returned it with coctail glass rings all over the cover-as-coaster — she’d lent it to a friend, unbeknowst to me. And mom knew how much I prized books in general and wanted to keep them looking fresh, being one of those types who hated to crease the book spine back then (which I’ve stopped obsessing about now). When I complained about the coctail rings, she said “I’ll bet you’ll never read that book now.” And she’s right to this day. No big quote here, but perhaps the scenario’s worth something.
Co-worker: “I love your sweater! I had one just like it when it was in style!”
There are many great comments in this list, but this one is a real favorite. It almost feels like the co-worker who spoke deserves an award.
My NPD husband is the most twisted human being I’ve ever known. My parents and brother have many NPD traits, but J.’s are exponentially more toxic. From childhood tales it’s clear he’s always been a bully, enjoying any opportunity to humilate and intimidate others. He’ll rage at me for chatting with a neighbor. Hates that I have many friends. He’s completely reclusive, with no hobbies, friends, or job, despised by his family members (they all fear for me). His rages are so frequent, I’m relieved during his long periods of the silent treatment (which have lasted 5-6 months at a time). When he is speaking to me, he may twist some tiny deed or benign remark of mine, or venture of opinion in order to explode. 4 years ago during my chemo, he never once asked how are you? He would throw meals I’d prepared into the trash (something he continues to do arbitrarily, as I like to bake. He recently wrecked a pizza I’d made just to his specifications). After my first horrid chemo, I finally got up — to take out the garbage, as it stank (and it is MY job)and THAT enraged him.
I once moved a magazine from table to chair, and he threw every book in that room on the floor.
I once asked him, while I had pneumonia, if I could borrow a can of HIS soup. I had interrupted a thought he was having! Rage and silent treatment for a month.
He monitors my every move and projects that onto me. This Saturday, resting before the NYC marathon I’d be running the next day, I quietly left the living room where he was blasting music. He left the apartment, slamming the door. Much later he explained I always destroy his enjoyment of music, cursed at me for my F**ing running trophies (I never boast about any of that stuff!) and spewed hate. (Needless to say he never asked how my run went. A friend saw me home and helped me recuperate.) During “good” times, he praises me as his “favorite” person and asks like a caricature of chivalry.
We have traveled together. If he loses his way, he accuses me of badgering him about where we are going (even if I have been silent) and has a tantrum. He made our trip to Paris a nightmare, screaming at me behind the Rodin museum. I could go on (I once tested my recall, jotted down 50 examples in 5 minutes.)
Obviously being raised in your family trained you to cope with this kind of stuff. But it still asks the question: Whats in it for you to stay with someone like this? You should talk to a therapist about it. It sounds like an awful way to live.
I don’t know if this is helpful at all, but Albert Brooks’ film, Mother (1996), keeps coming to mind. He plays a writer facing a major block and goes to live with his bigtime NPD mother, played by Debbie Reynolds — spot on — knowing that she’s the cause of his block. And the tagline on IMDB is “No Actual Mothers Were Harmed During The Making Of This Motion Picture.” (go to http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0117091/) That tagline just “kills” me!
And that reminds me of a decent line that I’ve given my mother (repeated by A. Brooks) — when my mother tells me (with utter sincerity) that she loves me, I have been known to reply, “I know you Think you do.” She then looks at me in complete contempt and says something like, “What do you mean, of Course I do.” And the latest Mom line is, “The only thing that keeps me from being happy is when you’re not happy. I’d be completely happy if you were.” To this day, those words are creepy to me.
On a family trip to Europe, my then 15 year old nephew was physically violent towards my sister, and her (now ex-) husband did nothing to intercede or punish their son for his actions. About 6 months later (in marriage counseling) my former brother-in-law was asked why he had done nothing to defend his wife. His response, which actually rendered the counselor speechless, was “It was my first vacation in years and I didn’t want to ruin it.”
Wow. Congratulations. That is a truly spectacular contribution. I love it.
when i was born my aunt (by marriage) (we’ll call her “Pearly”) came to pay a visit to my mom and dad in the hospital. the conversation turned, as it always does, to which parent I resembled. Pearly looked my mom right in her post-partum eyes and said, “well you wouldn’t want her to look like you, would you?” (I am, by the way, a genetic clone of my mother.)
Nice. This reminds me of the comment my mother made upon seeing a photograph of her one day old grandchild. “Well, he’s not what you’d call a beautiful child.”. (And then a few days later, when the cuteness really caught up to him, she said “Do you think he will be held back by being so pretty?”)
Years ago, when complaining (again) to my now-Ex about his inability to pay attention to my part of the “conversation” (if you could call it that), he said, “But you’re not saying anything that interests me.” Me: “Sorry, I didn’t realize I was here to entertain you.” He did not even hear the sarcasm.
I’m actually still in touch with him. He’s married (but currently divorcing) and has since said to me, “You know, I didn’t understand a lot about relationships when I was with you.” Can’t help but chuckle a bit.
Another example (although this was high school and who isn’t a bit narcissistic then): on telling one of my closest friends that I had finally lost my virginity (to my first boyfriend, we’d been dating over a year at this point) she responded (very hurt and accusatory), “I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me!” I think it might have been a little thoughtless of me to respond, “But you don’t even have a boyfriend!” Birds of a feather.
“You’re not saying anything that interests me” is a great one. It reminds me of the time a friend of mine brought her four year old over to my house. He walked in to the living room, looked around and then said “Where are the things that I like?”
When our first child was born my wife had a very tough labor that lasted about 36 hours. For the last several hours she was delirious but finally gave birth to a beautiful little boy.
A few hours later she was still extremely weak. My wife’s younger sister arrived for a visit. When she came in the room my wife nicely asked her to close the door. My sister in law responded, “Don’t be so snotty!” I managed to contain myself so as not to upset my wife.
That was 24 years ago and I’ve always regretted not throwing my sister in law out the hospital window.
I’d probably have been out of prison by now.
A jury of women would have acquitted you, and perhaps awarded you damages. You reminded me of a passage in Deborah Curtis’s autobiography “Touching From a Distance: Ian Curtis & Joy Division.” After delivering their first and only child, “Ian said that if anything had gone wrong it would have been my fault as I had ‘done it all wrong.'” (p.79 of 1995 edition).
I believe that was his first suicide attempt.
When I was 22 I developed some significant disabilities, had to have spinal surgery and spent about a month in the hospital recovering from it all. I was then transferred from the hospital in NYC to a rehab facility closer to my mom’s in PA. All of this was incredibly hard for me to deal with, adjusting to this sudden change in my body and way of life. On the drive to the rehab hospital, we stopped at a gas station to fill up and some jackass at the pump blocked us in. My mother beeped her horn to get his attention to move. The guy apparently didn’t like that, flipped us the bird and ignored us. My mother became hysterical and started screaming at the top of her lungs out her window, “HOW DARE YOU! DON’T YOU DO THAT TO ME! I HAVE A HANDICAPPED SON IN THE CAR!!!”
Now I can understand the whole situation being somewhat overwhelming for her and maybe give her a slight pass on this one, but behavior subsequent to that would convict her as a 1st degree narcissist . I recovered from the surgery well, but still have disabilities and obtained a handicap-parking sticker to use when I need it. I don’t really have a NEED to use it ever, as I can walk from a normal parking space distance fine, and think that the spaces should be saved for those that do. However, there were dozens of times where my mom was driving us and would ignore my request to not park in the handicap space. She’d smile and giggle and comment how “she didn’t feel like walking” and “it was just easier for us this way.”
What I did need from her however was to do something about her kitchen floor, which causes problems for those even with no physical problems whatsoever. It is a white linoleum floor that becomes like a sheet of ice when even one drop of water gets on it. I’ve wiped out on it numerous times, as have her and numerous guests to her home. She’s refused to do anything about it to the dismay of everyone. Finally I gave up asking when she said, after I brought her an estimate to have it redone that I even offered to pay for, “Christopher, I like my floor the way it is. You’ll just have to be more careful.”
There was also the time where we were out during a rainstorm and I banged my knee. I couldn’t walk and needed to sit down and rest for a moment. The only place anywhere close was the front steps of an apartment building. She literally grabbed me, as I’m hobbling in pain, to prevent me from sitting because my pants would get damp and told me “You’ll get the seat of my car wet!”
Thanks to my sister for alerting me to this posting (and who has also posted here. I’ll let you guess which one she is).
You had momentarily forgotten how impossibly hard it is to dry a car seat. Hopefully this incident taught you to remember to always carry a sack of towels with you when it looks like rain. Its the very least you can do.
“I am NOT studying nursing because I care about people. I’m in it for the prestige.” is one of the most astonishingly unconscious remarks ever. Congratulations. That’s a finalist. And this isn’t even a contest!
There’s an emergency sham-wow in the trunk for such occasions.
Smart boy!
My mom is a true narcissist. Her name is Mildred; she goes by Midge. My favorite Midge-ism: “Control the guilt; control the child.” She thinks it’s hilarious and repeats it often.
My other favorite Midge-ism, though this speaks to her negativity and not to her narcissism: “I hate butterflies.” (You would have to hear her say this in her Iowa-Jew-flat-nasal-drawn-out way.) This comment came on the heels of an Elder Hostel trip she took to the Ozarks a few years ago. The group visited some area teeming with butterflies. To quote a friend of mine, a super-sunny fellow who is her psychic antipode, when he overheard her: “Wow. I’ve never met anyone before who hates butterflies!”
I’m sure Midge is a first class narcissist, and I thank you for your contribution to the narcissism hall of fame but I must confess: My favorite thing about your entry is the phrase “Psychic antipode.” Whew. Great phrase! I gotta remember that one! Thanks!
I have more borderline quotes than narcissist, but under stress she sometimes forgets to hide it and it basically works out the same as a narcissist.
In an argument during our divorce where we had been arguing about our child’s needs. Actually I was arguing about our child’s needs and she was seeing how she could put a spin on the child’s needs to satisfy her own. ME: You think only about yourself! HER (with extreme hostility): OF COURSE!!!
Further in the discussion after stressing how important our child’s needs are and having her say she wanted several times my net worth, plus the house, plus, plus, plus. After several times of trying to steer the conversation back to what would benefit our child I gave up. ME: It’s just “Me, me, me, me.” HER: “That’s right, it’s me first, [our child] second, you not at all.” This is funnier in the context of a discussion about putting our child first. Later. ME: I don’t know where you think all this money is going to come from. HER (angry and threatening): “Well your Dad’s not going to live very long you know!!!!” Did she stop to consider, she’d already spent everything I would have inherited, and there are others the money would go to, like my mom, if I weren’t already deeply in debt to them anyway? This is what I get for marrying someone who told me repeatedly she wouldn’t even be able to put her own child’s needs in front of her own. I didn’t believe there actually could be such a person, and I just thought with enough love she’d get over it.
Wow. Well, first of all… from my shallow on-line google research it seems that ” many Borderline Personality Disorders have been co-morbidly diagnosed as also having Narcissistic Personality Disorder.” Looking back, seems like my mother had both. Or maybe its just the overlap in symptoms. They certainly seem to have many delightful traits in common.
Another article says that “Those close to Borderline or Narcissist will find ways to deal with them are very much the same. Also the effect they have on others close to them are strikingly similar. Manipulating, lies, deception, self centeredness. and most of all a complete lack of concern for anyone but themselves. They just chose to cover it up in different ways.”
So congratulations! I think your ex wife fits in just fine here!
But what really got my attention was your last sentence:”This is what I get for marrying someone who told me repeatedly she wouldn’t even be able to put her own child’s needs in front of her own. I didn’t believe there actually could be such a person, and I just thought with enough love she’d get over it.” If I have learned only one thing in life, (and a good argument can be made that one may be an overstatement), it is that when someone tells you something dark and bizarre about themselves, BELIEVE THEM. And it almost goes without saying that it is pure folly to think that you are going to be the instrument of change. Ha!
So true. When I was dating my future husband, he constantly told me he loved me because “I made him nice.” I could never understand this statement. I had known him for years as a casual friend and, during our dating, he was mostly extremely nice–gallant even. I just thought he had been the victim of past relationships–women who could never love him as he was, a kind, lovable, quirky person. Granted, he went out with a few women friends late into the evening, but he convinced me that I was just being insecure and unreasonable. After our children were born, I discovered what he meant. He became a fairly violent person–while never hitting us, he did everything to perfect his emotional and verbal intimidation. Recently, our divorce was finalized. He refused mediation or even to talk with me about the kids. Since then, he has approached me saying I am the most wonderful woman he ever met. When I asked a few questions, I discovered that first, there is no remorse for driving his wife and two toddlers out of his home; and that he blames his “temporary” personality defects on a prior breakup.
I have a narcissistic request, or whine if you prefer. You promise us 68 responses to the topic, but I can’t find, pull up, pull down, access, or whatever you call it, that many. I’ve been fascinated by the ones I have read, and commend those who’ve survived narcissistic parenting.
PLEASE tell us how to get to all of the requests unless it requires tech skills I don’t possess.
The way this number-counter thing works is that it counts the responses I give in to the total. Sorry.
I’m sorry. I should have realized that!
I have a friend who has lost a lot of her N tendencies since she married and had a wonder child.
She called one Sunday, said she was bored and asked if I had the Sunday paper. She didn’t like buying the paper because the newsprint got all over her hands.
I told her I did, and she said she’d be over to visit and read the paper, and “kill two birds with one stone”.
Hmmm . I couldn’t figure out whether the paper or visiting with me was the first bird.
Another request was “I’m bored and depressed. Cheer me up.”
Hi Merrill
I turned in an article to an editor — a long piece I had obsessed over and worked on for a couple months. I waited… and waited… at least a week.. for the editor to read it and give me some sort of response. He took his time. When he finally got around to it, he seemed lukewarm. He gave me very few comments, pro or con. Then he “edited” the piece — meaning he changed the order of the paragraphs — and he e-mailed me this new version. I read it over, baffled. It was one of those edits that’s neither here nor there. He had gotten his hand in, and that was about it.
Next day he called and asked, in a voice seeking approval: “What did you think of the edit?”
B-WAP
As long as he left plenty of fingerprints, it was a job well done.
But boy oh boy, I have had SO many bizarre experiences with rewrites at magazines and in television that its hard to know if you’re dealing with a single narcissist, a team of narcissists or just the occupational hazards of being hired to do that job. I am thinking right now of a POV piece I wrote for a woman’s magazine that first made a huge point of going on and on about how eager they were to add my voice to their publication. Next thing I knew, they had changed every single word I wrote so that the end result sounded like something that might have been written by Paris Hilton. Usually Paris and I are not thought of as interchangeable, so when I suggested to the editor(s) they should just remove my name from the “written by” credits and add their own names instead, since they had really written every word of it and it no longer reflected my POV, they were deeply insulted. They didn’t understand what my problem was since this was just their standard editorial policy.
Sometimes it seems like everything in the writing for hire arena conspires against simple logic and sanity.
I thought my mother was a narcissist but I’m on the fence. Like Katherine, I think my mom was more in the passive-aggressive camp. I recall mom telling her sister (a lovely woman who never married and who saved my family’s butts financially time and again) to not go getting another cat when her beloved critter of 23 years died. Mom told my aunt when her time was up, it would be inconvenient enough without having to figure out how get rid of the “furry thing.”
And I’m not completely sure on this one, but mom asked me once if I was sorry I never had kids because I wouldn’t have anyone to take care of me in my old age. I heard that’s the classic narcissist’s reason to reproduce, not to duplicate themselves (they don’t want competition, just adulation).
Love you and your blog! One nicely narcissistic friend always brings a camera to parties to take pictures of… only herself. She will stop, pose, and snap herself, look at the result and say “cute’ or “my hair looks so shiny tonight.”
I’m reminded good ole Narcissus acquired his curse of eternal reflection by Nemesis, the goddess of retribution, because he broke Echo’s heart, till she pined away leaving only her voice. Maybe that’s why my self absorbed friends need to hear complements twice… ” I do look great, don’t I? Huh?”
One shining example in the mom category still makes me really sad. After 10 years of nursing my mom, my dad got lung cancer. During his last difficult months, instead of now taking care of him, my mom tried to kill herself. So my sick dad rushed her to the hospital in the middle of the night to save her. She said “How can he get sick and do this to me? He knows I can’t take it” Then two weeks before he died, he was so weak and vulnerable, yet still caring for her, she said bitterly “When I think of all the times you picked on me……” I still remember the hurt and disbelief in his eyes.
The sad Mom/Dad story is a really perfect example. But “My hair looks so shiny tonight” made me laugh out loud.
All from my mother:
1) I was twelve and sitting alone in the car with her. My younger sister had just been diagnosed with an autoimmunine disease which was considered fatal at the time:
“Well, you wished your little sister
was dead. And your wish came true.
Are you happy now?”
2) To my older sister when she
made plans to fly to Europe:
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.
You know how nervous it makes me
when you fly.”
3) To me, one of many comments about my hair: “Your hair looks so terrible
it made my blood pressure go up. I had
to take a pill!”
What a thing to say to your twelve year old daughter! I only hope you at least had the foresight to comb your hair first.
Both parents — my father who didn’t come back from Europe when my only brother died, but who did come visit 6 months later. We’re at the bar, before dinner, on the first night of a 3 day visit (when I’ve seen him once in 15 years). “Why did your brother change his surname?” Dad asks. Dad had stolen P’s social security number and had taken out and defaulted on many loans. I really don’t want a tense 3 days. “Um,” I say, “You were all over his credit report?” Dad, swigging gimlet, “Why would he be angry about that?”
Mom — at same brother’s funeral — “Would you stop that crying! You’re embarassing me.” Also, 2 days later, “Well, I guess I’m not going to kill myself after all.” (Gee, thanks for worrying about leaving me all alone Mom). And then she disowned me for 3 years. Which was kind of restful actually. Having her back in my life … a mixed blessing shall we say.
That story about your Dad is frightening. And when you add in the fact that at some point he joined forces with your Mom…well, in a way its too bad Shakespeare wasn’t alive so he could write them a play.
All through my 20s, before I had even THOUGHT about having children, my mother loved to prod me about having babies. When I told her that I just wasn’t ready, her reply was “Oh, but I’m going to be so old when they’re born!” I hadn’t realized until that moment that I was being so selfish.
Cut to: I’m seven months pregnant. My mother was just here for a week long visit and her new favorite pastime is prodding me about having subsequent children. Two months before my first child is born, as I’m dealing with backaches and heartburn and various other unpleasantries, she wants to know when I’m going to do it all over again and give her another grandchild. So I told the truth (usually a mistake with her) which is that we really only want one child. Her response? “That child is going to hate you!” But mom, I had older brothers and I still hate… oh, never mind.
To top it all off, she told me no fewer than 15 times that she only ever gained 20 pounds in pregnancy and that I am gaining too much weight despite the fact according to my doctor, I have gained the perfect amount of weight. I asked if I was supposed to be on a diet right now and she just looked at me and said in a tone I can only describe as preachy, “When I was pregnant with you I paid your brother John to make sure I didn’t eat too much. Like, if I wanted a banana, and John would stop me from eating it, I would give him 50 cents!” It begs the question, what in the world was the woman doing with junk food like BANANAS around the house in the first place!?!
I don’t have the time to go into the narcissism that a woman with textbook Muchausen-by-proxy exhibits on a daily basis, but let’s just say, she will not have any alone time with my daughter!
“That child is going to hate you” is a great one. She forgot to add that child is her. Congratulations on the new baby. And on keeping her away from Madame Munchausen..
MY FAMILY
– – – – – – –
My parents got in a fight with the Hebrew school, so they did a 180 and explained to my brother and me that were were athiests. We got the hang of it. Then my parents took a vacation and dad’s mom, my grandmother stayed with us. She asked if we believed in god and we said no. She became very upset . “You’ve got to believe in god. You’ve got to!” She sobbed more. “How can you do this to me now that I’m an old lady?” she screamed. She wept and rocked and held herself and wept.
“Do what, Grandma, what’s the matter?” I’d never seen her cry before and I couldnt understand why theology was such a big deal. We’d switched from casual Jews to atheist and except for one weird conversation never noticed.
“How can say such things to me? How dare you! Don’t you dare tell me my own grandchildren don’t believe in god?” she wailed. “What will god think of me?!”
“JACKSONS premieres with back-to-back episodes. The high point of the first 2 hours comes when Jermaine Jackson cries. Tearfully he recalls dark days of 1976: the others leaped to CBS;he stayed at Motown,‘loyal to where we started’’Do you know what it is to be alone? Just to be alone?’ Jermaine chokes up.’I’m out in the streets and kids say, ‘You broke up the group. We don’t want your autograph.'”
Finally! He had to wait so long for this vindication. I don’t know whether to write and ask for his autograph, or send him some hankies.
An old boss of mine (whose narcissism was her least bad quality) once reacted to the news that an employee would be out a few days because of a sudden, life-threatening illness, responded with an agonized wail that rivaled Charlton Heston’s more extreme scenery chewing by saying, “Why do these things always happen to ME?!”
That’s about as perfect a summation of it all as there will ever be. If this were a recipe, I believe it would be referred to as “a reduction.”
As a grammar school student I was trying to learn to play piano. I found little joy in practicing. I was learning, “March of the Wee Folk.” Perhaps you remember this gray tune? I was diligently picking it out, sight reading. My mother sat down beside me on the piano bench. “THIS is what it’s supposed to sound like!” And she played the entire piece perfectly with great drama. I fled in tears. Later I made a point to study things she knew nothing about. Cello, Russian (she knew French and Spanish), and filmmaking.