The Divided Self

In complete stylistic and theoretical contrast to Vacant Vaknin I have just read ‘The Divided Self’ by R.D. Laing. What I really liked about his writing was that he avoids some of the negative terminology and the castigating tone that we associate with Sam and his forums. I felt he was far less ‘alienating’ than some of the other theoretical texts I have read because rather than positioning mental illness/disorders as a ‘bad’ facet of someone’s personality he attempts to make the reader appreciate that it is a ‘way of life’ or ‘way of thinking’ and that to understand the individual you must therefore understand their ‘world’.

He uses an analogy about ‘delusional statements’ to make his point, arguing that these are literally true within the terms of reference of the individual who makes them. To illustrate he relates the anecdote of the patient who took a lie-detector test and when asked if he was Napoleon, he replied ‘No’. The lie-detector recorded that he was lying.

I found Laing’s discussion of 'primary ontological security' interesting. He argues that the inner core of a person is his 'self'. The self is in the world and relates to the world by means of its body. Most people — most of the time — feel basically safe in the world. Some persons, however, become ontologically insecure, i.e., they feel persecuted by life and seek desperately to protect themselves.

The man who becomes ill is therefore preoccupied with preserving rather than satisfying himself; life itself and interactions with others threaten his low threshold of security and his ideas about his ‘true self’. Eventually his fear of being ‘taken over’ by the other becomes so great that he retreats into a world of his own making – a world of grandiosity and fantasy and perfection, because it is here that he feels safe. However he is also precluded from having a direct relationship with real things and real people and relates instead to objects of its own imagination. Even his own bodily experiences become alien — part of a false-self system. Laing relates one patient who believes ‘he’ has never slept with his wife because whilst doing so it is not his own ‘body’ but someone else’s – as if he is watching himself from the outside and is completely detached.

Thus, the self becomes 'a relationship which relates only to itself' if you will. This relationship sustains an illusion of omnipotence and freedom within (and only within) the world of fantasy. Not only are the experiences – the body – of others disregarded, but even the self’s physical reality too.

I got to thinking about the relationship between the Narcissist and the Schizoid or Paranoid Personality. The Diagnostic Criteria for the latter is:

A pervasive distrust and suspiciousness of others such that their motives are interpreted as malevolent, beginning by early adulthood and present in a variety of contexts, as indicated by four (or more) of the following:

suspects, without sufficient basis, that others are exploiting, harming, or deceiving him or her
is preoccupied with unjustified doubts about the loyalty or trustworthiness of friends or associates

is reluctant to confide in others because of unwarranted fear that the information will be used maliciously against him or her

reads hidden demeaning or threatening meanings into benign remarks or events

persistently bears grudges, i.e., is unforgiving of insults, injuries, or slights

perceives attacks on his or her character or reputation that are not apparent to others and is quick to react angrily or to counterattack

has recurrent suspicions, without justification, regarding fidelity of spouse or sexual partner

I wondered how likely or common it is for the Narcissist – in later life, to become MORE paranoid, more alienated from the self and more accustomed to living as Laing describes. Do any of you feel this is likely? In some regards it seems a natural progression.

^ nice, i'm going to have to get that book. I could deal with the "life-syle" approach as I'm growing weary of the typical pod-shots throughout most texts. What you posted hits home with me, since I'm mal.N/Schizoid. The therapy thus far has gotten me "in my body" so to speak so I'm curious as how this continuum works out.

jake8 wrote:nice, i'm going to have to get that book. I could deal with the "life-syle" approach as I'm growing weary of the typical pod-shots throughout most texts. What you posted hits home with me, since I'm mal.N/Schizoid. The therapy thus far has gotten me "in my body" so to speak so I'm curious as how this continuum works out.

Hey Jake

I would highly recommend the book and although it is old a lot of what Laing is saying seems very pertinent. What I especially liked is the way he encourages the reader to UNDERSTAND the perspective of the patient - rather than seeing things from the outside as "normals" are prone to do (in terms of what is wrong and right - morally or otherwise). I think it is probably impossible to understand someone with a PD unless you walk around in their shoes and adopt their outlook for a while - or at least appreciate their 'thought-processes' if you will.

He explains quite clearly how the Schizoid's character develops and in particular, the idea of the 'false self' who engages with the world, but remains aloof emotionally, until eventually all dealings are between the false self and reality and the 'real self' remains untouched. If that makes sense? In his schema the false self has developed because the individual has never known who their true self is:- due to insufficient or detrimental responses from his care-giver or to never being given the chance to develop (often because they were lured or forced to adopt a persona). This made complete sense to me and described exactly what I have seen first-hand.

He almost makes the withdrawal from society an inevitable consequence of the 'split' within the self because it leads to such anxiety that the individual will prefer to shun interaction with others since the hostility and lack of trust that these interactions engender are often thought best avoided. For the individual the world is a dangerous and unwelcoming place and it will more than likely hurt him. Again I have seen more Narcissistic traits evolve into this withdrawal from society with my own eyes and now I understand it a little better I realise it is a form of self-protection.

Hope it is helpful Jake!

The question of what I would do if I, by choice or circumstance (ie. will I tire of the people in my life or vice versa?), more fully withdrew is always in the back of my mind. It would probably be easy for me to slip into a solitary fantasy world if I could reach a level of self-sufficiency.

I can relate to many of the paranoid traits, but that's also natural for the subculture I'm in. I also work at a place with rampant backstabbing, so that probably doesn't help either. As the years have gone on, I've tried to avoid the drama and keep my mouth shut around all but a few people. With them, I'll say what I think about this or that person, much of it negative. I guess I assume people are badmouthing me. Just like I figure co-workers are jealous of me, because I'm certainly jealous of some of them.

Sorting through the same mess over and over.

BarrierReef wrote:The question of what I would do if I, by choice or circumstance (ie. will I tire of the people in my life or vice versa?), more fully withdrew is always in the back of my mind. It would probably be easy for me to slip into a solitary fantasy world if I could reach a level of self-sufficiency.

Hey Barrier Reef - what a beautiful photo!

Yes - it would seem contradictory wouldn't it for an individual with Narcissistic traits to withdraw from the world but it may make sense? It is understandable that hyper-sensitivity and feelings of persecution could lead to avoiding all contact with people and it would appeal to someone who finds the world hostile and dangerous.

There is a cycle at work at think:- the NPD almost 'forces' others to behave in a way that confirms their suspicions about the human race. No-one is perfect and if a NPD is denying their own behaviour it is, most of the time, projected back onto the 'other'. Like a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy, everyone lets them down no matter what.

Maybe it's the (failed) writer in me, but I could create enough characters and story lines to maintain a fantasy world. It does offer the control and safety that real life doesn't. As much as I love the adoration of others, it's still all about me, and a part of me still resents the need for supply.

I have to force myself to just engage in life. The past few years I've been playing my favorite sport competitively to force myself into social interaction, as well as learn some humility and constancy and to set goals and so on. Deep down, it's also a way of seeking supply, but hopefully in a good way, through merit and diligence.

BarrierReef wrote:Maybe it's the (failed) writer in me, but I could create enough characters and story lines to maintain a fantasy world. It does offer the control and safety that real life doesn't.

Hey BarrierReef

Do you play Computer Games?

No, but I used to do RPGs all the time. Mostly as Dungeon Master. Go figure.

Ha! Dungeon Master eh!

I have read some academic papers that compare the effects of Computer Games (fantasy games) with those of narcotics. Both alleviate anxiety. Both allow the individual to live in a world of fantasy where their grandiose self-image is not criticised and in which they are able to exercise a degree of control over others. Both also allow for the passage of time without boredom taking hold and facillitate a withdrawal from the outside world - 'reality' is diminished if you will and almost ceases to exist.

There is an argument that what human beings most crave from contact with others is the exchange of narratives. We need other people - but we need their stories more, and if there is no story then we will make one up, develop a narrative from 2 or 3 seemingly unconnected events (we do this all the time and instinctively). So when our partner comes home from work we wait for them to give us a narrative (if you will) of their day, in which there will be embedded other mini-stories too.

I wonder if the Computer Game (for me, books themselves) provide us with an alternative to the narratives of other people. Maybe that's why games like Dungeons and Dragons (in which the narrative is really strong) is so compulsive for those with NPD. It fills the gap left in the story bank? And it fills it with stories to which there is no emotional attachment and no risk of being damaged?

Back in the day, I spent a lot of time parked in front of the TV playing Atari, Intellivision, Nintendo, and got into all kinds of board games, puzzles, word games, etc. in addition to RPGs. Anything to outsmart/outplay someone else, I guess. So goes the competitive nature within, which in my case is counterbalanced with an equal degree of laziness. My trouble is that I used to sabotage myself and then shift the blame if I lost. Like cramming all night for an exam and blaming lack of sleep if you fail instead of lack of preparation.

More recently, I had started creating imaginary opponents for the sport I play and would compete against them in the type of narrative you describe. Kind of like Bill Murray in Caddyshack ("Cinderella story..."). That gave me the control I craved and I wouldn't always let myself win, but mostly. All part of being a self-contained unit, which is what I thought I had to be because I was toxic. Just my way of being a coward.

That's why I've tried to devote myself and entered into real competition. I'm still seeking supply, but hopefully in a healthier way through changes to diet and exercise, and practice and persistence (never my strong suits). I've managed to improve, but the mental part of the game is where I still struggle.

The games, writing, movies, all of that was trying to create a narrative other than my life. Escapism is my biggest compulsion.