Published on 12, July, 2020
These three weeks I've spent at home - 2 on leave, 1 on sick leave - have been pretty stressful and intense. Lots of stuff going on, both in my head and in my life. Problems to figure out. Small things some of them. Like I said somewhere else, though - these things are all small drops of water, but taken together they're a tidal wave. I've had a huge backwash from mum's death. Things have caught up. I've gotten myself into a bit of a state - as evidenced in the 'Goodnight, and Good Luck' thread - and worried a lot of people. I've felt guilt, shame, remorse. I've felt fluctuating senses of doom, then optimism. The booze has fueled a lot of this.
I've also done a lot of self-analysis, and have given myself a bit of a hard time - and perhaps I've deserved to. I've tried to look at myself from the outside.
I was watching some interesting videos earlier: interviews with Dr Ravani Durvasula, a prominent US Psychology Professor. Interesting to watch if you've never seen her before. She was talking in one interview about narcissism (her pet subject), and explaining about the four different basic types of narcissist. I sat up and took notice when she spoke about the 'covert narcissist': the one who thinks the world hasn't given them what it should; who thinks they deserve more. She talks about the basic elements in all narcissists - someone who is grandiose, who lacks empathy, who has a high sense of entitlement, is constantly seeking validation, is arrogant - and how it's a disorder of self-esteem. It seriously got me to wondering about myself.
Am I a narcissist? Or is it that, as a result of my autism, I demonstrate traits that could be mistaken for narcissism?
I don't think I'm grandiose. But I've been told I can come across as pompous and high-minded. I realise this. I looked back over some of the things I've said - on here and on Facebook - and have found myself saying to myself "You pompous, arrogant p***k!" I've upset people on here and on other social media - but usually when I've been drunk, and the Dionysian side is rampant: the side I've always held inside for fear of reprisals. I think of it as a manifestation of years of being put down and ignored, and not speaking up for myself - and the booze lets it flow. At last, I get to say what I think - and you're all gonna hear me! Basically, then, that's self-esteem that's been repressed suddenly asserting itself. Or over-asserting itself, as is often the case. And maybe it's grandiosity, too. Posturing.
Sometimes, again usually after drinking, I've posted status updates on Facebook.that can easily be read as passive-aggressive - as making indirect digs at people. The social distance, of course, makes it easier to do. Except most of the people on my friends list are people I work with. So, they're seeing one side of me at work - and then another side of me on Facebook. Maybe a little spiteful. Maybe a little pompous. Maybe not quite so 'nice' after all. And I really wonder - because people never tell you what they really think - whether I actually come across as quite arrogant, emotionally manipulative, self-centred.... basically, narcissistic.
As Robbie Burns wrote: 'Wud some pow'r the giftie gi'e us, to see ourselves as others see us.'
Be interested to read others thoughts on this issue.
PS Incidentally, I found Facebook too toxic for me in the end, so I've disengaged from it. It's a good move, I think.
I think you might be onto something.
I don't think I'm grandiose or entitled - I keep trying to explain to people that none of us are entitled to anything - but like you I can see parallels between autism and narcissism w.r.t. the other traits.
There have been previous comments on the forum about encountering narcissists, and I did wonder at the time whether it was a case of "collective projection". It didn't really seem feasible that there were narcissists everywhere, seemingly hunting us down. Far more likely that, lacking empathy, we see ourselves in others?
Interesting. The difference is that one is a personality disorder and the other is a result of neurological wiring - but who would be able to distinguish the difference, necessarily, except a trained psychologist?
The 'empathy' issue is more contentious. I don't think we are unempathetic. It reveals itself, though, in ways that don't seem so obvious. An Aspie friend believes that because we often experience a lot of trauma in our lives because of our 'differences', we develop a response to it that can make us seem detached and cold. People say that I can't be autistic because I work in care. But that's not the case. I can care about someone and for someone. But I can't put myself in their shoes. And if someone's deeply upset, I really don't always know how to respond.