Kimera wrote:It may have been your anecdotal experience, but it clearly struck a chord with me. There's probably more I can, and should, say on that topic - let me have a think on it.
The context of this quote was a response to Quoth relating his experience on another thread about sex with pwPD (not NPD specifically), and he found the experience extraordinarily “empty”. I had a 2-day meltdown after I read that. I said I’d come back to this, so here it is. Kimera running her vulnerability up the flag pole again.
My therapist has said on more than one occasion that I am “heavily defended”. He’s been trying for the past year to get me to lower those defenses a bit; and articulate what it is I’m protecting so strongly. I’ve had a vague sense of the answer but not many words to put around it. It feels like death, is about all I’ve been able to tell him. Total obliteration. He swears that won’t happen, but I think he’s wrong. I know he’s wrong. At an impasse, I’ve ditched therapy for the present. And in anticipation of someone saying that’s what therapy is supposed to feel like and there will be rainbows, unicorns and a choir singing on the other side – seriously, piss off. It’s not helpful.
So here’s how I know my therapist is wrong. To the rest of you who read the confession about my meltdown, that probably looked like progress; for me it was a death of sorts. Now that I see how I was glorifying my own disordered behavior, I can’t glorify it anymore. That bell can’t be unrung. But for me there is nothing to replace it – that glorified behavior was all I had. I don’t have the non-disordered alternative to fill in this new hole. There’s just emptiness and glaring evidence of my own shortcomings. Loss. Obliteration. If you wonder why pwNPD defend their beliefs so violently, this is why.
Most of my defenses are not conscious, but I’ve always been aware that I’m hiding something. Until the last few years I wasn’t sure what that was. Now I know that the thing I try to keep from others is that I can’t connect like a non. I can manufacture connection (it works, at least in the short term), and I can fake empathy (although sometimes it’s real). Initially that’s what struck me so hard about Quoth’s post: the realization that people may experience the emptiness I work so hard to conceal.
I think it’s hard for others to understand the lack of depth:
Quoth wrote:You get no positive internal feedback from doing something for someone or something else?
*reaches for crossbow* Sadly, no. And in real life you’d not know that about me.
My therapist tells me that my ability to connect is there – it’s just being too heavily guarded. If he’s mistaken, I fear I’m headed for the wrong side of the dungeon:
Kimera wrote:Akuma wrote:With this then comes great depression, sadness, fear, emptiness; a real danger to exit out of the wrong side of the dungeon, too, down into the nothingness of psychosis. But also a chance to exit into the world of external relationships.
A rather haunting image, no? The potential to exit out the wrong side has been, and continues to be, very real to me. Not so much into psychosis, but darkness, depression and suicidal ideation. The other door....that one is less clear to me.
Fire away.