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.
An interesting topic, and there have been all sorts of interesting points in the thread already; I hope no-one minds if I quote where necessary rather than reply individually.
From reading Tom's original post and watching the videos (insightful, thanks for those!), I could identify myself as having the autistic kind of (appearance of?) self-centredness, but with outbreaks of the narcissistic kind during life's darker moments. As I said to Tom in the other thread that he mentioned, my own alcoholic "Dionysian monster" was a pretty vile character, and I know that the monster must represent some part of myself.
One difference which I think is very important is this. In psychology, there is the concept of ego-tonicity; something is ego-tonic if it is a comfortable part of your personality, or ego-dystonic if it's a trait which you find discomfiting yourself. A true narcissist finds their behaviour ego-tonic, so would not ask themself such penetrating questions about their behaviour as in Tom's top post. The very fact that we're worrying about and trying to change these behaviours is a good sign that we're not clinically narcissistic; we're finding this aspect of ourselves ego-dystonic in the extreme!
The idea of these bouts of narcissism being a disorder of self-esteem rings true to me. Constant anxiety about fitting in, and chronic masking, have made much of my life seem like I was trying to follow a script which was being written in real-time by everyone else. Coupled with executive function deficits, it's led to feeling a lack of agency; I'm not just putting others' desires before my own, I lose the ability to even know or have my own desires. Why bother when I'm just the ball in a pinball machine? Maybe the temporary, manic bouts of narcissistic behaviour are an expression of this; a part of my mind desperately seeking a feeling of agency, which occasionally breaks it's chains and goes looking for a fix of "I am damned well going to be me now, and I'm going to have whatever I want for once, by any means possible." In the absence of a particular purpose, any kind of control over something or someone would be the obvious substitute - as is often seen in self-harming behaviour (and doing things which make others dislike us could be considered "self-harm".)
DongFeng5 said: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?
Or maybe, from the perspective of an autistic person with social impairments, poor assertiveness, indifference to trivial social norms, etc., the behaviour of even well-adjusted non-autistic people just seems like it could be narcissism. Relatively speaking, non-autistic people seem more interested in social rank than us. They seem to use secret (to us) forms of communication to get what they want. They seem to prefer transmitting opinions rather than facts. I think that there is some truth in what the videos said about autistic people being attractive targets for narcissists, manipulators and bullies. However, I often see autistic people jumping to the conclusion that there is malicious intent from non-autistic people when it seems more likely that there was a breakdown in communication due to either party misunderstanding the other's behaviour or having misconceptions about their psychology.
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.
The simplest axiom of compassionate behaviour is the old chestnut; "treat others as you would wish to be treated yourself." In the absence of any more nuanced knowledge about a person, that's all we can ever fall back on. However, autistic minds work differently, so this often fails, too; as DongFeng5 said, it becomes just a projection onto the non-autistic person of our autistic needs in the hypothetical situation we're trying to imagine. Had a bad day? OK, I'll not touch you, say nothing, and leave you alone for while; it's what I'd want! If we lack the pragmatic communication channels that other people have, anything else is pure guesswork.
and have given myself a bit of a hard time
Asking ourselves searching questions is always going to be hard work. Try to look on it as an investment in self-improvement, not as punishment.
I'm related to a couple of narcissists - there is no way that an autistic person can do what narcissists do.
They are just horrible. They lie, manipulate, re-invent history to suit their needs, have no conscience, are happy to abuse and bully if it's convenient - just nasty people to deal with.
They are expert at making it look as though you are being unreasonable when they are abusing you. It comes naturally to them.
I haven't spoken to my sister for 18 months - and it's my fault. Apparently.