NPD: Delusions of grandeur

Narcissistic Personality Disorder

I might have shared my experience with certain character types that I absolutely hated. One of whom, I have the pleasure of calling dad. Going through this post by Dr.Perry, I was sad and delighted to learn that all the fights weren’t tough situations one had to grow out of.

Some people have it rough, to go through various emotions without any support or love. But, we make it through just in time to save face and pose as a fully functional human being.

The reality of it is NPD is nothing but a medical lingo for professional assholes, who are better off dead.

Lowering your levels

While many likened the unique character of Jack Sparrow, his carefree attitude and complete disregard for rules – it helped build a movie franchise, but ‘The Joker’ killed Heath Ledger and poisoned many youths.

When it grows beyond just fandom, it’s chaos. And, what’s that got to do with Narcissism and lowering your standards?

While NPD people try and compete with you regardless of your age and relationship, they poke you and drag to their levels of mediocrity. At times there won’t be enough choices but to seek to their level of meanness, just to survive.

Fighting back is an option

Many articles suggest cutting off the relationship completely is the best option, some of us don’t have that choice. A friend of mine broke down and cried in the middle of the road, she had an abusive father who would take advantage of her. Now, she’s left alone staying with the maniac while the siblings washed hands off the subject. She has to move away, that was my best advice. But, why is she staying with him still? She said in a funny tone ‘what can I do, can I have my friends beat him ?’

Fighting back in a manner that isn’t violent and definitely not lowering one’s perspective on life is a necessity in most cases. Removing all thoughts of vindictiveness is easier said than done, but all the attempts to help them realize their evil ways might turn futile.

Fightback still

Please read on the traits of a narcissistic asshole, point a finger and put him to shame. All they seek is attention and respect from the society, while they disregard the emotions of their family members, and take them for a ride. Please keep yourself informed, and lay a helping hand to people who are under the spell of bad chemicals in their brains.

shame
Point finger to shame

This could save someone from being abused by professional assholes.

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A Lesson On Human Behaviour

This post is going to be about:

  1. Self definition / lying to oneself
  2. Confrontation & Conflict
  3.  Distancing oneself from the negators

Here’s a chapter from everyday life, often enough people lie to themselves; like Leonard in Memento. But, the lies of the others seldom bother the common men, for they decide to march on ignoring the tales. In the face of a conflict however, things go awry of there is an imposition of self definition rooted on self delusion and narcissistic self indulgence – there is a whole lotta trouble.

Self definition like delusion

As Nolan says in the aforementioned movie, we all lie to ourselves in one point of time in the minuscule period of our life. But, that shouldn’t be the cause of a meaningless conflict which could drag people apart. Time and again, I’ve faced people who thrust false definitions of themselves onto me. I usually turn my cheek to such behavior, but when my peace is shattered – especially my sleep! There are repercussions to the causer of anxiety!!

Conflict could be catastrophic says Vision in Civil War

Alfred Hitchcock is known to cause silly troubles at the sets of his films. Tormenting poor actresses with practical jokes which could in the end pay off well with their performances. If you could or couldn’t see Hitch playing such pranks is an another matter, but here my point is – even such a jovial person takes conflicts so seriously.

Take a look at this interview, where he confesses his hate for any sharp word.

Is there a solution besides running away?

I have called BS on the negators who’d rather shy away pointing the finger instead of accepting their own. I find it best to say it to them, that their behaviour is of ill thought. I even went far ahead and said that the flaw is deep rooted and you can’t change it even if you try. Then, I distance myself from them.

It is best to point out their narcissistic characteristic trait and  walk away with a stern face. There is no room for emotions, sympathy or empathy in such scenarios. These people constantly way in if they can dig in any flaw to punch on it; or scounder to pull you down. These people can’t be rid off the face of the earth. They feed on anxiety and any creative & philosophical difference they can find.

Bullies can’t be banished. “This isn’t reality TV” Instead, we can opt to stand our ground and go on going on.

Cheers

Altruistic pub journey

So, there I was having a smoke. Looking at an African guy trying to haul autos, I thought I should help the poor chap. Asked where he wanted to go, Pasha his friend said. I guided them to a nearer bar thats easy to get…

The dance

As soon as they drove away, I thought deeply. This could be my chance to hang out with a couple of Africans, and darn I missed it.

But, I made up my mind. Changed my shoes and went to the place – Big Bang Theory, spoke to the guy at the entrance to let me off this once to seem them Africans (as I led them here, and I was wearing shorts, dress code prfff).

I wound up meeting my actor friend Lachu with a girl. And, met them strangers from a foreign land trying to fit in. I learned one of them was curious to meet a girl, and took them soon after a drink to The Vault.

The vault was almost sealed

As it was late, after some ATM attempts, we creeped into the mild crowded Vault. They weren’t pretty happy with the light crowd, and I sensed they preferred the Bing Bang Theory more. But, I explained the timeliness and the tardiness with the Visa card.

A little bit of leather

As a last resort, I urged them to accompany me to The Park; the precursor was that we’d go in only if there was decent crowd. Enquiring, I figured out Sunday is low crowd even in Pasha. So, took them to The Leather Bar.

Have I never ever

There was a minimal crowd, and promise of a crowd after 2 am. We waited with the beers and a single gang of mostly girls and few boys playing ‘I have never ever’.

My guests were getting impatient, until one drunk girl approached one of my friend and started having a conversation. I thought, ufff finally. And, he carried it of from there splendidly. I was worried if he’d cause a scene, but it ended up pretty slick.

I met Sam & Daniel from London. Desmond or Dameon – Brandon…(his name is Brandon, I remembered after the first draft) from a start-up. As I was full on worried about the business, I tried using the opportunity to meet people and push them my Business card.

The Drunk Dame

Annie was with Sam from Bristol and Daniel who found a way to settle in London besides having a Thirunelveli background.

Dan was pretty pissed that one of my friends hitted on her, but we had a smoke and chilled a bit. Discussing my writing career, he suggested Canada is far more welcome to the likes of me than UK.

Hardly ever did Annie seems to be a person to have a go at. She was pretty & drunk, but she was already with two guys. I didn’t want to bother her, or get between my friend who’s trying to get lucky.

My concern was that I’m playing a host and I be better at it. Thus, I showed them around, moving from one pub to the other – as I was once guided.

All in all, it was a good choice to jump up and meet them in Big Bang Theory, instead of sleep-watching ‘Two and a half men’ as I ended up doing anyways.

Hopefully, I’d have more such encounters and have a spine to not miss them. And, I push you to do the same.

The game of courting

She reeked of sexual energy. So the predator approached, aiming for the kill; subtly hiding.

She has to notice

But, couldn’t flee. She pretended to ignore. Tried to put the hunter off.

A distraction

Wandered to the loo. Maybe her special days. Easy prey, mustered the animal.

But why seek attention

To show, and yet pretend coy. If the attacker backs off, the eye of the prey lingers. The joy of being in the middle of the cross hairs…

The sideways

Hunter couldn’t stay on a single thing, for fear of failure. That moment a gizzle with silvery legs and impressive structure – quite danced to show off her prime.

I’m ready, she announces – to the world and its predators.

The pain of settling

Not for fear, not for lack of love. The ring on her toe – a mark of ownership, like branded cattle, pushed him afar; admiring, but hesitating to think of hitting.

So, the thoughtlessness

In all the drama, he reversed back to be audience to a story that revolves around his self. Physical more than mental, all the more reason to step back. Let things roll… But is this fear? Of doubt, on reality?

The parting

As he tries to walk away, she’s impressed. As the screens close, times nigh. She freezes him, roles reversed. Hunter’s hunted. Captured with lust, want and more.

Will it have happened if one moved another?

Would it be prettier if one of them dared to speak?

Could it make for a better tale?

A post? An encounter to brag?

It’s out there… Go get it…

The Hard Truths

If you have a good memory for inane details from books & movies instead of essentials, you are like me. And, might know the line from George RR Martin…

Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it.

A little bit of brew helps a long way in revealing the truths, even to yourself. All we have to do is to stay immobile, reflect on our thoughts and breathe.

The trite with entrepreneurship

I dallied with the idea of a startup where I would be the king. It’s not roses and wine here, rather sleepless nights and worrying times. To make things worse I dragged my friends into this, to help me worry more on the way of things. I thought it would be easier to have them on my side, but we’re not in Stand By Me – age anymore.

Adulthood is sucky I wanna be a child again

I want to go back to the times where I’d rather have a tight sleep with a gripping novel in a cold night. No women or drink in my mind to tease with sleeplessness.

Where are the cartoons and wrestling videos that felt like heaven? Why can’t time twist backwards?

Sorry to be me

In a long while, I repent my sins as an introvert. A loner who seeks out peace, rather than a crowd to please. It’s all a beauty contest, not to steal from my favourite movie – Little Miss Sunshine. But, it’s all there is… superficial, most are not just plain stupid, also jailed to their own little realities unaware of the cosmos.

The BellCurve

Incidentally, trying to name the startup – I came up with the name BellCurve, which lead me to a book that discusses why intelligent men move away from the un-gifted. Also, the book had a touchy idea about differences in racial intelligence, which crossed my mind long ago. Why can’t intelligence be backtracked to the DNA of your ancestors? Science doesn’t care about any petty feelings.

Blog walking again

In a way, just like autofiction and diaries, blog walking helps curb anxties.I agree, this isn’t journalism or any art form that literary bookworms would appreciate. Just a space to vent – good enough for any writer.

A house divided – more movie references

Just like the characters in Prestige, I’m having a difference of opinion by the days. A part of me is suggesting to stick to what I know. Another part of me just wants to dive wide and reach the arts in the modernity.

Memories play trick

You get old enough having enough troubles to attend to. Memory is one such which you can’t afford to lose. Who you are is what you remember. And, the list of dejavus, the characters in life that remind you of you from years older won’t be any help in your growing up…

Beer’s running out…let me catch you after a wee. . .

Love vs attachment, wisdom from a Buddhist

Most of my adulthood is spent on quenching my ego and searching a partner.

I’m trying to fill a deep void, through stimulants and accolade. It never dawned on me, that I must better myself as a person before searching for someone.

Beyond gender and age, I was just searching for – a loving embrace.

But, since I’m denying myself that, I settle for the cravings.

Lonesome nights, where a sudden hiccup gives me a nightmare of dying alone. The neighbors finding my decaying corpse, that’s naturally decomposing in a steady and odourful manner.

I’m not being morbid, it’s a sad and lonely affair. To try and break the parts of me to give life to fiction. Trying to make a whole with just parts. Of me. That’s how it is.

I’ve got a lot to learn. A lot of behavioral changes yet to be implemented. My attachment to idiocy is lessening.

My cowardice is apparent, that I can’t shy away into denial.

Can’t find no paradise at the bottom of a bottle.

I’m growing a pair. To step out. Face failure on a regular basis.

I’m a writer aren’t I. I have a thick skin for rejection. My whole life revolves around the fact that people don’t get my ideas.

It’s pretty damn soon that I start speaking my heart out.

And,

For a change,

Live!!

The difficulty to emote: an observation

Caution: not for the faint of heart

With this post, I’m going to discuss the difficulty to emote; especially with small minds. Please try to follow my line of thought, if this has a direct connection with you – your usual defenses might spike up involuntarily.

The Problem

I have noticed that some people tend to act in a certain way. The behavior of continual insistence on what one wants (unlike Steven J’s Reality Diffusion) is an act of stupidity. I’ve encountered plentiful people who inhabit this behavior, the following is the usual tactics which are followed by their like.

Characteristic one: The Special

Some people with low intelligence believe that they are really special. The very belief gives them a license to behave in any certain way they want. ‘The exception’ ideology gives them the confidence to approach anyone at any time for any help.

They boast their capability to be flexible and connect with everyone. But, in truth, they are specialists in emotionally convincing someone or making one feel guilty of not helping. Usually, these kinds of small minds have high egos and superficial and unbreakable self-images.

Characteristic two: The Autists

A few of these personalities who possess Autistic spectrum disorder aren’t really to blame. It is rather hard for one to satisfy them, be it emotionally or personally.

You need to be very careful in identifying the autists, and if you do – must act diligently. For the autistic personalities are incapable to connect and emote with society. So, asking them to be in line with the society is ridiculous.

There you go, as far as I know, the selfish gene is apparent in these two characteristic types. You must take caution in identifying the autists from others, so that you don’t give the special treatment to those who think they’re ‘Special’.

A little bit deeper

In a closer observation, I did find the nagging behavior in people who are practicing abstinence. They probably didn’t ‘get any’, which makes them angry – just like with apes and elephants. So, they disguise their anger with repeated discontent with society and act in hostile manners.

The solution

The discussion here may not be based on scientific evidence, but they’re built on my keen observation. To add on to it, I was acting in this ‘small minded’ way. But, I took measure in understanding that intelligence doesn’t simply come from the ability to change; rather, to be able to emote.

I’d suggest you consult those who harass or make you uncomfortable with these silly behaviors. And, offer them the solution – get some or get real!

In search of copy

So whatever happens to you is fuel for writing.

~ Dave Trott

I believe in this. Whatever life throws at you, whichever grit you be a part of, its going to help. As a tale in a pub perhaps, or a blog post like this one, or check my previous.

Dave + Dave = Dave

Predatory Thinking is still in my reading list, but his blog turned out to be a riveting collection of anectodes. He marrys the tales and news in a fine narrative and sends you off with wise and sage advice.

Boggled by Maria with brainpickings, Dave seems a lot easier to engulp the similar life learnings in a much easier manner.

Krishnamurti’s “observe without judging ” comes to mind. As the writers discussed above just does that. And, I’m trying to apply the same.

One must start to observe and reflect upon things. So that, momentary peace may be at your grasp.

What you observe – you can enhance.

Recently I’ve been doubting and hesitating to write. Often enough I’ve scrapped my words, scrutinising the tone and angles in which it twists and turns (probably randomly).

Dave’s blog changed all that, I muster yet again to wordsmithing. With courage and rekindled enthusiasm to tie words and stories together. In search of copy…

We live.

Even a tea master knows what he’s doing

Yeah, even a tea master, who makes 100s of teas and less coffees knows what he’s doing.

I’m more than a little intoxicated. There’s no editor or proof reader to suggest me otherwise.

I’ve wasted a good time on being someone who I’m not. Since childhood I’ve had my eyes on words. And, till now my fascination with them hasn’t dwindled.

I could be better or worse. But, I’m a writer. I obsess with words. And, fuck the grammar and language and all the BS in between. I’m known for getting my point across. Through these little words of text.

My love for life. Words. Poetry. And beauty hasn’t diminished The love of my life has admired it. More so in the following. That’s saying enough.

I might be sucky at it, depending on your ridiculous and misplaced standards. But I am a wordsmith, minus the editor and the consciousness you have the luxury of.

I’ve wasted time enough. To learn what I am not good at. Be it editing, the visuals. Or, the designs and artistry am obsessed with right now.

I’m a good observer. Teeny details don’t go unnoticed.

But, I remain a foolsy writer. With words that I can muster. Vocab that’s shrinkern towards a puddle.

These words remain a testament. For I’m true voyager. Sailing across the tides of life.

Expecting something more out of a fish. Who’s the fool now?

I do what I do. Because I’m what I am. Not a blogwalker. Not a ranter. But a fellow writer.

Maybe I’m alone. Maybe I’m foolish with my comings. But, I am in the midst of a cluster of things. Trying to fish out clarity.

A purpose.

A life.

That’s beneficial.

To You. Me. And beyond.

Sayononare mediocrity.

I’m known.

For words.

And.

I shall remain.

Beyond criticisms.

And.

Doubt.

A witer.

Waiting to be read.

In the middle of a rock & hard

Kicking a habit is easy, all you need is motivation. But, with the detox comes a cocktail of emotions. With this post, I’m going to share with you readers, where I am at.

The love that every often seems a grasp away, is yet a grasp away. And, with some weird luck, I’m passing off as a non-anxiety ridden person. No thanks to drugs and all hail ‘el musica’. For its been quite some time, that I’ve quit the ‘anxiety pills’. If I’m right, it did more harm than good.

But, one look at the mirror, I’m happy. Tired truly from the work, ready to hit the hay. A lesson learned, from the loss of a gig. A high profile gig, turned sour. Thanks to many, especially that one girl who is all cute and smiley – but when it comes to work she is a tortoise, in a rat race.

How did I mess up?

To be frank, I fucked up the opportunity. Wasn’t prepared to handle the workload. And, all thanks to her no one to guide or coach me through. Damn you gal!!!

It’s just making me Hulky!

I made wrong choices, one of which was self-delusion and medication. Upping the dosage reversed the reaction. Anxiety returned like a monster, in the pretence of a self-confident  – walking tall bloke.

If it were no more regrets

They say, regrets don’t matter. But, let me break it open when I’m sober. Rushing up, without proper gear and army – doomed to die be it Cap America or Bruce the Lee. And, who was I?

One strong one weak?

Speaking in the local language, and occupied in the rat race – I have become distant with English. No time to read, the half-finished Paulo Coelho still staring me silly! I take a look at my words, are they mine? Is this my style? Has it been corrupted from other formats. In the name of SEO, traction and other BS?

Nothing more to complain, there I’ve written more than 300 words, that’s ought to satisfy the bots. Damn scrawlers spoiling my ramblings. Nazis ruining my thought flow with rules.