Sunday, August 31, 2014

What to Do When the Difficult Person is a Narcissist or a Sociopath

Last month, I wrote about dealing with difficult people. Several of you wrote back or spoke to me off-line asking, "What if this person is really disturbed?"

Unfortunately about 4 to 8% of our fellow human beings have a serious personality disorder like narcissistic personality disorder or antisocial personality disorder (also known as psychopaths or sociopaths). When you have to deal with someone who has severe narcissism or antisocial personality disorder you will feel off-balance, anxious, and vaguely (or not so vaguely) threatened. It's not a fun experience.

Lucius Malfoy exemplifies a severe narcissist.
His primary aim is to feel better than others.

Severe Narcissism 

Both narcissists and psychopaths are controlling and manipulative. The narcissist seeks control in order to gain a steady supply of admiration. They need constant validation and support of their grandiose sense of self in order to defend against debilitating shame. Usually they begin by seducing others with charm and flattery. They may seem to understand you deeply. But this is not real. They have no felt sense of empathy.

Inevitably, you will fail them, because everyone does (their need is impossible to fill). Then their manipulation may turn to rage or withdrawal. Some narcissists can become vengeful, trying to turn others against you and moving into a position of grandiose victimhood. The narcissist wants others to see him or her as the best at everything, including being the most unjustly treated when in conflict.


Before he was Voldemort, Tom Riddle, the poster child
for anti-social personality disorder, was already
using people to gain power.

Anti-Social Personality Disorder (ASPD) 

The person with ASPD (also called psychopaths or sociopaths) wants control in order to feel powerful. Like narcissists, they begin relationships pouring on the charm and flattery. A sociopath can make you feel like you are part of a select and special group. They can make you feel special and important in ways that no one else ever has. They are also great at faking empathy. They are natural actors, and they study human behavior in order to manipulate others effectively and efficiently.

Often sociopaths are cult leaders, church leaders, and CEOs. Sociopaths are usually greedy, because money can be used to control or exert power over others. Psychopaths (at the more criminal or dangerous end of the antisocial spectrum) may use violence to control others. The more "high functioning" sociopaths will use vague threats as well as promises of great rewards that usually never materialize or those rewards come with a price tag - usually the feeling that you are betraying yourself.

Both narcissists and people with ASPD will leave you in a state of repetitive, anxious thinking known as rumination. Your thoughts will generally circle around to fantasies in which you teach the other person a lesson. This comes out of feelings of powerlessness and a normal, human a desire to be treated with respect and dignity. It is fueled by an underlying belief that if the other person could just "get it" they would change their ways. Letting go of this belief is the key to YOUR freedom and healing.

It is essential to know that people with these personality disorders almost never change. If they do, it is only with intensive, long-terms psychotherapy and usually only after a devastating experience in which their strategies for maintaining admiration or power completely fail.

Your Best Options 


Your best course of action is to have as little contact with a narcissist or psychopath as possible. Your energy will be far better spent doing other things. If possible, you may choose to cut off relationships with these people entirely. Technology can be a wonderful friend in this endeavor. Calls can be blocked. Emails can be deleted automatically so you never know that they were sent.

If you must interact with a narcissist or a sociopath, your best strategy is to become boring to them. Like cats playing with mice, they will lose interest when you stop being fun - which means when you stop being a source of admiration or wounding for the narcissist or stop being someone that the sociopath can use to feel powerful or gain money or other resources from.

Safety First 

Dealing with a sociopath or psychopath alone can be dangerous. They have no empathy and can't be reasoned with. Your safety is paramount. If these strategies don't work and you feel threatened, don't hesitate to get outside support from understanding friends, neighbors, coworkers, or if necessary, legal support from an attorney or the police.

If you grew up with a parent, sibling, or other influential person who had narcissistic or psychopathic tendencies, you may be more vulnerable to the seductions of these people. If this is true for you, then therapy to heal your own feelings of powerlessness and "not good enough-ness" will be invaluable in helping you to let go of these toxic relationships.

Friday, August 15, 2014

Missing Robin Williams

The thing I'm noticing most now, four days after  he died, is that everyone I've talked to, everyone who has written about him, whether we actually knew him or not, felt a sense of kinship with Robin Williams. I know, logically, I felt a kinship with the characters he played. If anything, I loved the writers who wrote those roles.

Yet he chose them, the roles. And he brought them to life in a way that no one else could. I've been binge-watching his movies. Today it was Good Will Hunting and Dead Poets Society. In both of these movies Robin Williams plays a role model for all of us who need to find a way to survive in a world where our individuality and vitality is shamed, where we are misunderstood, kept small with physical and emotional abuse.

Robin Williams, o captain my captain, grief, misfits, good will hunting, dead poets society
The younger characters in these films learn to follow their own hearts, despite the threat of alienation. The teacher, Mr. Keating and the shrink, Sean Maguire provide a map. And more than even that, they offer themselves as safe havens, where it is okay to just be whoever you are. They offer unconditional love. They offer the understanding of a fellow outsider in a world where conformity is regarded above all else.

I love Robin Williams (and miss him like the father my own could never be) because I am a misfit. Growing up, I was told in so many ways that I did not fit, that my not fitting was wrong, and that I should feel ashamed. Mr. Keating gave me a desk to stand on, so I could see the world from a different perspective. Maybe being a misfit was not a bad thing. Maybe it was a gift. Sean Maguire looked at me with so much love and understanding and told me over and over again that the abuse I suffered was not my fault. It was not my fault. It was never my fault.

I keep finding articles and blogs that have used his death as a platform to raise consciousness about depression. That's a good thing. But it's not what I want right now. I just want to grieve what, for me, is a grave, personal loss. I never met him. But I desperately wish I could tell him how grateful I am for his courage in being the captain of the misfits, a team I am so proud to play on. I'm grateful that he was here for a short time. My heart is broken for his pain. And I already miss him so much.

Thursday, August 07, 2014

Aging, Injuries, and Healing with Mindfulness

Getting older is a fine balance between the wisdom that can only come from experience and the frustration of not remembering what I was about to say or do a moment ago.

Going slowly and being fully in my body, moment by moment, have been among the greatest gifts of aging. I am still working on both of these practices, and I get distracted by busy-ness more than I would like. But the more I stop, and breathe, and feel, the easier it gets - mostly because it feels good.

Somatic Experiencing (SE) - which I mentioned a couple posts ago - has become an invaluable tool for settling in and noticing subtle energies and staying with them, just noticing and nothing more, as they transform just through the process of attending and watching.

Sadness becomes relief, then anger, then power, then excitement, then joy.

Fatigue becomes grounding, then settling, then calm, then alertness, then presence.

This may sound like meditation, but it's more than I've ever learned in meditation classes. There is no effort to stop thinking. Thoughts happen. There is no concentration on a meditative object. Sensation is the meditative object. And maybe that just works really well for me because I am at the super far end of the kinesthetic spectrum.

One of the main reasons I decided to learn SE was to see if it would help reduce physical pain, which I've long suspected my body holds as "emotional trauma in suspended form." In several of my SE experiences, I've noticed the feeling of my shoulders and back melting - as if old armor is gently falling away. It's a delicious feeling, and one that I hope will eventually become a new normal for me. What I didn't expect, is that SE would follow me out of the classroom, and out of my therapy office into my daily life. Specifically, it has shown up in my footsteps.

In March, I twisted my left knee, and it's felt twinge-y and wonky ever since - not painful, but not quite right. I don't think it's a coincidence that I also have bunion on my left big toe, and that my left foot has been growing progressively weaker over the last few years. So I did what we all seem to do these days; I scoured Google for everything ever written about knee injuries and bunions and muscle imbalances. Several articles recommended walking barefoot.

Then, in June, I ran into a friend who was wearing Vibram FiveFingers on her feet. I had a pair once. I got them right after reading Born to Run by Christopher McDougall. But I was much younger then (only 44). And I had only just begun learning about slow and gentle living. I didn't know that in my mid-forties, my body would begin to rebel against being pushed to hard. I didn't know the wear and tear that my earlier traumas, and the resulting tendency to dismiss and deny my body's pain and fatigue signals, was catching up to me. So I put on my new barefoot "shoes," and went for a run, giving myself a muscle spasm (in my left calf, of course) that lasted a month. I blamed the shoes, cursed the book, and went back to supportive, orthotically correct footwear. And I watched my bunion grow. And I felt my foot continue to weaken.

Fast forward to June. Now at the wise and sage age of 49 1/2, I listen to my friend describe the slow, gentle process of moving from shod feet to bare feet. She wore her FiveFingers an hour a day at first, only at home after work. Then on little trips, grocery shopping. Then, adding more time as her body grew accustomed, she eventually started wearing them all day, just walking, sitting, driving. Now, she says, she is "addicted to them."

There is no definitive information about whether barefoot living will fix my knee or my foot. Anecdotal evidence points both ways - it really helps or it really hurts. Though in scouring blogs and message boards, there is one theme that recurs over and over. If you transition to barefoot, go very, very slowly.

aging, going more slowly, healing injuries, knee injury, self care for knee injury
Yesterday my new (and surprisingly cute compared to the last pair) FiveFingers arrived. I wore them for two hours, mostly sitting. Today I wore them for three hours, sitting, sweeping the floor and taking a short trip to the store. When I took them off, the angle of my bunion-y toe was less pronounced. My knee is still wonky, but it also feels like the muscles of my foot, calf and thigh are more activated and more stabilizing.

What's really wonderful though is the mindfulness of each step. As I walk, I am keenly aware of the sensations in my feet and legs and knees and hips and back. I am feeling my gait from inside. I have no idea what this will lead to, if anything. And the blessing of SE and of getting older is that it's soooo okay with me not to know. I am happy watching, waiting, trusting my body's signals and discovering what the next step feels like, and then the next one, and the next.

And I am relishing the loving feelings that come with all of this self-care. The armor continues melting, and as it does, the love and joy that is my birthright (and yours too) grows full and bright, a little sun rising in my chest.