Narcissist Will never Celebrate Your Victories

Timmy heard the door crack and quietly gave the signal. “Everyone” took their places, just as they had rehearsed.

The frequency radiating from their excitement was supernaturally muffled, otherwise it would have been a dead giveaway. Crouched just behind the sofa sleeper, Jill began to panic as she felt a huge sneeze coming on! “oh no, not now", looking up without delay at the bright LEDS staring back into her big chocolate brown eyes and straightway, her sneeze was seized.

Paul was nervous that his man-bun would be visible as he too hunkered down. The entire group was uneasy that the laughing twins would not be able to resist the urge bubbling in their little bellies.

“Surrrppprrriiiizzzze!” in a gruff, arrogant tone all the sudden came forth that tersely broke the deafening silence.

A quick group selfie would surely reveal and attest to the matching horrid look on everyone’s countenance as all the attention panned violently towards Robert. His seductive lust for attention could only be satiated by his perpetual incessant deplorable actions. Because he was family, his cunning delusional behavior was too often tolerated.

There was certainly no lack of instances that Timmy had to be pulled away from him in order to avoid a major brawl.

Once the frequency reset and the molecules began to settle, the celebration resumed. After all, a celebration is what this occasion was all about. Annie had been nominated as MVP of her basketball team, and rightly so, after putting up an average of 30 points per game throughout the season. Everyone loved her and lavished her with gifts, and words of encouragement.

She has such a sweet spirit and one can’t help but gravitate towards her just to be within close proximity of her warm inviting frequency.

Robert made a dash for the door as soon as the spotlights shifted. He was not about to be in the vicinity of all that attention being showered on Annie. The fact that someone else could be receiving praise made him literally want to vomit.

It’s true that as a young boy his two older brothers received all of the academic and athletic accolades. Very seldom were there any bones thrown his way, resulting in the growth of a deep bitterness and animosity towards his mother. Although he wasn’t the brightest color in the box it didn’t take a middle heavyweight to conclude that mom favored his siblings creating a vacuum in his love tank that would plague him later as an adult.

Apparent in his string of failed relationships, a closer examination uncovered the real cause. His deep subconscious need for control, manipulation, deflection, projection, bullying and rejection were only the tip of the iceberg. In his wake lie a pile of dead bodies. Relationships that he knew in his deep he must destroy before they beat him to the punch, leaving him once again all alone without any souls to violate that would appease his appetite.

Although the aforesaid is fictitious, it is certainly not out of range of the stark realities that many are aware of and have fallen prey too. I know this well because I skated on that very thin ice for most of my adult life. Now that I am no longer benumbed to these delusional bouts, I could pen a myriad of personal stories that will most likely trigger the narcissist characteristics in you, as well as confirm the predator that loves you.

For what seemed like a lifetime, I dwelled in a place of perpetual bedlam manufactured by yours truly. Oh, but don’t consider for even one second that I was able to even remotely entertain the idea that it could have been my fault in any way! There was no room for that in my psyche.  Every corner would be swept until I could get a bead on and target someone, anyone, to fabricate and project the story of their devious behavior.

I dreaded every minute, “relishing”, the thought that my bride would be the center of attention receiving kudos, thanks and appreciation for a job well done. Once again, I had to find a way to escape so that I didn’t have to endure the resonance of applaud that elicited my downward spiral as it fed my deepest insecurities.

No matter how well she performed, I could not muster up the words or express in any way or acknowledge and celebrate her smallest victory. If I did so, it would immediately summon the mirror to the scene that quickly reminded me of my own inscrutable deficiencies.

I didn’t find it too terribly challenging to celebrate the victory of others, but it was very infrequent and I knew to circumvent being present in any environment that supported this protocol.

I loathed my life as a result of having an empty chest. One that I had refused to make any deposit in, but yet expected to be able to make a withdrawal from. I despised the fact that she had, on the contrary, been very diligent in plowing and sowing generously into her fertile fields.

I also detested the fact that she had an audience that would celebrate her victories, so I was on a quest to do everything I could, to sabotage any and all future possible triumphs.

As I began to learn to take ownership of this ever-present malady that was bankrupting my life, it was far less challenging to pay homage as often as the opportunities presented themselves.

Small steps of progress were made over a period of time. My gracious helpmate was relentless in supporting and helping me along the way and became my best coach. Through her patience and my grace infused diligence , I learned to become proactive and genuinely celebrate the accomplishments, serendipities and victories of all those around me.

I cannot ever take for granted that because the power supply was disconnected that I had the luxury to kick back in my lounge chair with a fat Cuban cigar and sip mai-tais.

I must remain prudent, vigilant and guarded at all times to not allow the prowling enemy of my soul to get a foothold again in this area or any other area of my life.

I am so grateful for God's intervention in my life particularly with my fierce battle against narcissism. At the end of the day I have to believe that there are similarities when it comes to addictions in general, with regards to the strategy that is employed to get and stay free.

Like the prodigal son, there is a part of his story that I often refer to when coaching others.

 “And when he came to his senses”. Luke 15:17

For me, that was the turning point but I deny taking credit for when that moment actually occurred in my life. I do believe that one of the ingredients is when I said “yes”, to the initial nudges from Holy Spirit as He attempted to awaken me from the delusion.

Here’s to continually saying YES, as we sojourn so that we can scale the mountains of freedom that he paid the price for.