Treatment/Success/Hope

I would like to hear any stories or experiences that people can share that show that the disorder is not untreatable.
I am new to this forum but it is full full of hopelessness and negativity. Of course many Narcs have no problem with their condition and don't want to be treated.

This post is not for them

This is the place for optimism and hope and for those who don't want to hurt their loved ones anymore. Those that seek to change and have seen through to the light.
This post is to encourage people to come forward with their success stories.

Look at the progress that Borderline Personality Disorder has made in recent years. Surely this disorder is not unique and other personality disorders can make the same strides forward.

Please be kind and give those that are new to the condition and scared to their wit ends peace of mind instead of all the intellectual, pessimistic drivel that is greeted on most forum pages.

Dan - I see narcissism as a style of personality that is (expect in its most extreme form) culturally defined. Most of us on this forum will have mild to high narcissism. The malignant types usually haven't got a clue what they are; or that they are anything but normal! Ego defence mechanisms are at work. Since we are self aware we are usually able to control ourselves. Because we can never get enough attention and affirmation, we invariably suffer from mild depression, anxiety and mood disorders. Those and abandonment issues can be treated in therapy and with medication.

Well, I do treat my partner (strong n traits.... kind of a less nice version of gordon ramsey , well was).
As in treat him differently since I found what on earth was the problem.
I still am nice to him, but use different ways of showing love.
Its only taken 2 months for a transformation to take place, family member asked "what on earth has happened to him... is it like in the Bodysnatcher's movie?"
So yeah, there is always hope.
He has done nothing as in becoming 'aware' etc, I've simply changed the way I treat him.
The first change I noticed was things were peaceful. Then small conflicts ended in moments with both of us fine.... peaceful but no romance.
Recently I am getting little gifts, proper kisses.... when he's not busy laughing, telling jokes etc...
Will write a blog post on something about this soon.

Even at its worst, I feel strongly that NPD can be treated. Admitting the need to change is the huge hurdle that many NPDs never get across. So making it to that stage is a giant step forward.

Sam Vaknin thinks that some kind of anti-social or non-social personality seems to underlie most NPDs, and I've seen that in my experience too. I work with very young children who all have anti-social or asocial tendencies of some kind. I've discovered over the years that these kids all have strong negative reactions to the intentions of others, in their different ways.

Some can look at a smiling face approaching them and see a "mean" kid who wants to hurt them. So they rush out to power over the other child. These are the kids who see all people as having hostile intentions and use their power to control all the enemies all around them. A more typical kid sees a smiling face approach, and assumes that this other child is a friend. It's the basic "friend or foe" judgment call that even the most primitive animals have to make every time another creature approaches them, and for some reason, certain kids always see hostility, danger, someone trying to con them, trick them, one-up them, or hurt them. So I work on teaching a child like this to have a relationship with me first - to see my good intentions, play with me, learn to trust me, realize that it's fun to trust and play with another person. Once they feel super comfortable with me, I bring in one other really nice child, and we go through the process with this new nice child. For an adult trying to learn to deal with this kind of issue, trusting a therapist is a good start, and learning to completely trust one other, special person in a genuine, fun, open, vulnerable way would be a huge step forward.

Some of my non-social kids just feel a total sensory overload when faced with the task of dealing with other people. These are the kids who use anger to drive people away from them so they can be left alone. These kids need to be approached softly and carefully, then they need a lot of quiet space to recover from afterwards. So 10 minutes of sheltered play together, then 20 minutes to be by themselves and regroup. Over time, the playtime increases and the regrouping time decreases, but these kids will always need more regrouping time than a typical kid.

Some non-social kids already at the age of 2 or 3 feel inferior to other kids, jealous of them, and already feel the need to put other kids down in order to make themselves feel better, superior, more special. These are the kids who will grow up to live with chronic, toxic jealousy. This was my very malignant NPD mother. In my opinion it stems from deep-seated self hatred that takes time, patience, genuine love, and work to turn around. As a teacher, I have to use a combination of flooding the kids with intense love and encouragement for every genuine moment and act, and disciplining them consistently and very strictly on every mean, manipulative act. Basically I try to help them see what is genuine and what is mean and manipulative by being very, very clear with my reactions to their actions. But love is the key. They HAVE to learn to love that genuine self that they think they hate so much. I think BPDs have this whole cycle in common with NPDs and I'm guessing that most children of NPD parents grow up with some level of this.

As an adult, for myself, I HAVE to identify and face those times when I'm feeling jealous or insecure, be completely truthful with myself, and STOP those behaviors immediately. But then I don't get to beat up on myself for it. I have to reach into myself and find the scared child behind the jealousy and insecurity, and then try to give that child the love she never got so that she can feel secure and OK without the need to put others down. It will be a lifelong process for me, but it is working.

These are oversimplified concepts, of course, and a very severe NPD could have all 3 of these issues, but most of my kids with social issues fall mainly into one of these 3 groups. Helping change their outlook is of course much easier when kids are really little! But basically all of us are "little kids who grew up through no fault of our own" as my very wise therapist tells me. Often we're just stuck in some very young, childish, immature warped world that we first saw as a small child. Shifting that view can make a big difference.

I'll say that while I'm not a success story in terms of a cure yet, as I just started this journey after recent diagnosis, I'm radically owning my problem, and throwing myself at the policing of its manifestations in a way that has already started having profound benefit, and I anticipate much more as I keep 'showing up' to address it over time.

To reiterate what pajaro said, I think anyone using the flawed software of NPD coping is already reaping success to a significant degree merely by being self-aware, and wanting to change. (S)He's right that that's a huge hurdle that stymies benefit in many with this ego defense. So just getting beyond that is virtually half the battle. Stubbornly and consistently policing our own faulty social programming, but being accepting of our vulnerable and flawed selves represents a significant move away from habitual use of the wrong coping mechanisms.

The tools I'm implementing now are a radical affront to pathological narcissistic routine, and I'm already starting to see their benefit in my life. If they have any novelty or utility, I'm contemplating writing a thread sharing these steps I use every day.

I firmly believe books and information go a long way in informing and empowering us and the people around us as well. The vast tide of online material, and a deluge of general self-help books aside, three books standing out in this particular arena that I just picked up--and would tentatively recommend with caveats--are (*full disclosure: I'm only halfway through one of these books currently, but combing their reviews and gauging their popularity, they seem to have emerged as quasi-bibles on this subject. So while I can't properly attest to form, I still feel comfortable recommending):

- Why Do I Do That?: Psychological Defense Mechanisms and the Hidden Ways They Shape Our Lives by Joseph Burgo Ph.D.

- The Restoration of the Self by Heinz Kohut

- Thoughts Without A Thinker: Psychotherapy from a Buddhist Perspective by Mark Epstein M.D.

pajaro wrote:Sam Vaknin thinks that some kind of anti-social or non-social personality seems to underlie most NPDs, and I've seen that in my experience too. I work with very young children who all have anti-social or asocial tendencies of some kind. I've discovered over the years that these kids all have strong negative reactions to the intentions of others, in their different ways.

That's exactly the initial benefit I got from Sam's 9-part essay "The Mind of the Narcissist." I had no idea how my raging thoughts affected my interaction with others. As you said, I would size people up and imagine their motives, what they see in me. That determined *everything* about how I related to them at that moment.

When I read Sam describing it, I knew exactly what he was talking about. I just thought it was normal. It didn't take much to recognize it. I simply never realized I was wrong -- that I was putting too much into "first impressions" -- that I could be vulnerable and ride the interaction without losing myself; I could go with it and still have boundaries.

It was liberating the first few times I put it into practice (his advice to face outward, not dwell in the "narrative"). I got real feedback, not constructed feedback to my narrative. Satisfaction for meeting someone else's innate human needs (the analogy to monkey's grooming each other. A meaningless exercise, but a symbolic value for membership in the group.

That was the first breaking of mirrors and trying to see reality.

Your working with kids and being able to make the analogy to childhood development is powerful. I've felt like I'm nurturing a child. Through meditation and things Sam wrote about the true, false selves (and "dialogue") I'm better at encouraging more constructive, safe environment for all.

Sometimes I think my cast-iron skillet (my keeping firmly in mind what I'm capable of) is counterproductive to that safe environment. That it could be my hyper-critical false-self shaming myself into being something I'm not.

I think of that skillet wielder as Brad Pitt's psychopathic character in the movie Inglorious Bastards. "I imagine when the war's over, and you're back at that home in the Hamptons you negotiated for yourself, you'll take that uniform off. I can't abide that." (He begins carving a swastika into the prisoner's forehead so the scar will be a permanent reminder of what I'm capable of, what I did.).

I don't know if keeping my personal Lt. Aldo is healthy. But, I have decades of being hard-headed. And, I've hurt people tremendously. I don't want to forget that. I know it wasn't my fault. But, that didn't matter to the people I've hurt. My main concern is to not let it get out of control like that again. As hard-headed (self-centered) as I can be, it seems necessary to keep that had-assed part of me just for that purpose only.

That might be a difference between kids and mature adults. I don't have as much time left in my life. The legacy is more of a reality than it would be for someone younger?

Stubbornly and consistently policing our own faulty social programming, but being accepting of our vulnerable and flawed selves represents a significant move away from habitual use of the wrong coping mechanisms.

I've felt like I'm nurturing a child. Through meditation and things Sam wrote about the true, false selves (and "dialogue") I'm better at encouraging more constructive, safe environment for all.

Sometimes I think my cast-iron skillet (my keeping firmly in mind what I'm capable of) is counterproductive to that safe environment. That it could be my hyper-critical false-self shaming myself into being something I'm not.

I look at the kids I work with and wonder if maybe the most hypercritical person in their world is themselves. To look out at other humans and assume that others are going to hate or dislike or want to hurt or use them, it seems just logical that this is the way they treat themselves - with hostile intentions. I think both of you are onto something really important - being tough and honest with yourselves, but giving yourselves the kind of genuine acceptance, encouragement, and unconditional love that you've never been able to really believe exists. I watched my mother make this discovery in the last 2 years of her life. My sister and I cared for her with unconditional love. Despite how horrible she had always been to us, we loved her deeply (yes, I was a total doormat and trapped victim and that's another whole story and my own mental health journey!). But still as our mother became more helpless and sick, she finally had to believe that we loved her, that actual unconditional love does exist, and she actually started treating us differently, gently, in ways I had never seen before from her. It wasn't fake for once. It was the real thing. And it was just our steady love that did it - something she could never do for herself. So learning to give yourselves that kind of steady love HAS to be important.

I've read a gazillion books on psychology trying to understand my life with my mother, as well as for my career with kids. In one book (sadly I can't remember which one! Sorry!) the psychotherapist came to the conclusion that narcissism is the ultimate expression of pain. This was his analogy: if your leg gets cut off and you're bleeding in the hospital, you will be completely self-absorbed, screaming for someone to come and take care of you, ignoring the pain of everyone else around you. It's not possible to give to others, notice or care about others when you are at a critical level of pain. After many years of working with NPDs, he slowly realized that NPDs had this kind of psychic pain and were simply unable to see beyond it. I'm guessing that that kind of psychic pain can only come from intense self-hatred, harsh and vicious self-judgment that makes everyone else feel threatening and superior to an intolerable extent, pushing the person to the extreme NPD coping strategies. It's just a guess, but I can tell you that when I can flood my kids at the age of 3 or 4 with genuine love and intense encouragement while strictly controlling their aggressive and anti-social behaviors, it does work! The kids I've tracked still have issues as they grow up, but much, much milder than they looked like they were going to be when I first got them. Love and boundaries are just the basics that all kids need, and if you don't get both, it really messes you up as a kid, I think.

pajaro wrote:This was his analogy: if your leg gets cut off and you're bleeding in the hospital, you will be completely self-absorbed, screaming for someone to come and take care of you, ignoring the pain of everyone else around you. It's not possible to give to others, notice or care about others when you are at a critical level of pain. After many years of working with NPDs, he slowly realized that NPDs had this kind of psychic pain and were simply unable to see beyond it.

I can relate to that. I think the emotions I recently lost (the "making connections" thread) was that. Somehow my realization of what I did to my ex, the narcissistic injury I suffered from realizing how wrong (delusional) I had been got entangled with the pain you're describing. I always had emotions close to the surface. They ruled everything I did. What's gone now isn't just the 2-years of narcissistic injury, but that underlying simmering emotional level just below the skin. It's very different now.

The one thing which is a little different than the analogy you describe is that I thought I could feel for people. But, that was my amplified emotions. I was feeling for myself. I only felt for people to the extent they generated a desirable feeling (not necessarily a positive one) in me.

That's what's been hard about this process. It's literally like standing in a room full of mirrors and not knowing what's real. I think the past 3 weeks have been the most real "thinking" I've been able to do (absent the whole-body emotional bruise I was carrying). But, I find myself analyzing my motives even more, and I'm even less certain what's not narcissistic in nature. (Ultimately, normal people make choices based upon what's good for them. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." I get hung up on if I'm letting the "unto me" part be too much of a driver.).

Someone posted awhile ago that they felt like the guy in the movie Memento when they were unraveling. I could totally relate to that. Narcissism develops from being unable to trust anyone else. The only person we can trust is ourselves. And then we learn we can't even trust ourselves. It really was like that movie (and still is a little). He only has a 5-minute memory. He has to write notes to himself so he can continue on his crusade to identify his wife's murderer.

The ending is poignant. He finds himself with 5 minutes to choose whether to write a note to himself about who his wife's murder is, or to forget it so he can continue living in his world of notes written to himself, pursuing his single-minded goal which has defined his existence. It's a lot like the choice to face your narcissism or, conveniently continue to do what works.

That's why I am stirred by the emphasis to practice better behaviors. I don't think an N can know what "better" is until they've appreciated their core. Maybe other people get to their core pretty easily. It took a 2-ton wrecking ball passing through mine. Without that, I'd just be a better narcissist. Better at pretending to be normal.

That's what's been hard about this process. It's literally like standing in a room full of mirrors and not knowing what's real...... I find myself analyzing my motives even more, and I'm even less certain what's not narcissistic in nature. (Ultimately, normal people make choices based upon what's good for them. "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." I get hung up on if I'm letting the "unto me" part be too much of a driver.).

I can totally relate. I've always felt this way to such a huge degree that it has paralyzed me much of my life. I can never feel secure in the knowledge that my motives were really good. I worry and worry that I'm ultimately being completely selfish. So I made myself a doormat to others in order to constantly feel certain that I wasn't being "selfish." But yet it takes a certain level of selfishness to take care of yourself, and it has taken me all my life to learn to set enough boundaries to take care of myself in even some of the most basic ways. Somewhere between the N and the doormat, there is a healthy happy medium with this, where we question our motives in a healthy way that hones our judgment and gives us a realistic idea of who we are and how our actions affect others. Both Ns and doormats seem to need to see our reflection in the reactions of others because we just can't figure out who we are by looking at ourselves - we're so lost in our warped perceptions, like one of those houses of weird, warped mirrors in a carnival.

Narcissism develops from being unable to trust anyone else. The only person we can trust is ourselves. And then we learn we can't even trust ourselves.

I think having an abusive, all-controlling, terrorizing N parent causes extreme reactions in children, and we split off in different extreme ways. You learned that you could trust no one but yourself, and I learned that I absolutely could NOT trust myself, and tried to trust everyone else instead of myself. Both are extreme and dysfunctional. The reality is that sometimes we can trust ourselves, and sometimes we mess up and can't trust ourselves. Sometimes we can trust others, and sometimes we can't. A healthy child with love and guidance from a parent learns to hone that judgment. A tortured child raised with rage and manipulation tries to retreat into a bubble somewhere to protect him/herself, and that bubble becomes all they think they can be. Doormats need to learn to have some of the healthy aspects of narcissism, and Ns need to learn to have some of the healthy aspects of the doormat's self-doubt. There's a middle place that is the elusive "normal," and it seems like we're all working our way to that place.

Maybe other people get to their core pretty easily. It took a 2-ton wrecking ball passing through mine.

My reaction to my N mother's abuse was to open up my core and wear it completely outside of me in the hopes that if I never hid anything from her ever she would see that she could believe and trust me and stop torturing me to get at the truth in me. So yes, my core has always been easily accessible by me - and everyone else. It has been way too accessible! No one wants someone's insides spilled out for the whole world to see all the time! There's no human dignity whatsoever in that. That's the doormat. Your reaction was to bury your core deeper and deeper, hide it away even from yourself so your mother could NOT hurt it, hating yourself for even having a weak and vulnerable core, and trying to pretend it didn't even exist. You tried your hardest to make that part of you go away forever. Both are just coping strategies to a very extreme and horrifying childhood. The N has more dignity in their strategy. The doormat has more honesty. Which is better? There's no better. The better is learning to find that middle place, and we're GOING to do that!

pajaro wrote:The N has more dignity in their strategy. The doormat has more honesty. Which is better? There's no better. The better is learning to find that middle place, and we're GOING to do that!

Wow, that's a really good way to put it. Thanks.