Am I a Monster?

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone. I’ve been struggling really badly once again. Nearly three weeks ago, I had an outburst that caused the second staff so far at this home to request to the team manager that she not be required to support me for a while. This staff used to be one of my three assigned staff. Another was a student and has since left this home to continue her education at the intensive support home I used to live at. The third one is still my assigned staff, but she only works a day or two a week.

With the staff who previously requested to not support me for a while, I’ve since talked things over, though she still refuses to be honest about the thing that got me to be angry with her, ie. her using literally every opportunity to assign me a temp worker. Because of this, I’ve felt like I had to apologize for my anger (which I see is necessary) but she wouldn’t have to apologize for or explain her behavior that upset me. With the current staff, I don’t have this issue, but I do mistrust her for having pretended to have talked it over then decided she couldn’t handle it anymore a few days later.

I realize part of the problem is my attachment anxiety. As a result of this, I mistrust people who try to come close and be there for me, because I know that if they truly knew me, they’d reject me. Which is, of course, true in theory at least: no-one in life is there for anyone else unconditionally. And, given that I sometimes don’t know who I truly am, I worry that I’ll be worse than even I can imagine if I let my guard down.

Of course, it’s also a self-fulfilling prophecy, as you can see from the fact that two staff in the past year have already rejected me. The current one even claimed she wouldn’t.

Even if I’m in the midst of severe self-doubt, I am (almost) certain that I won’t become physically violent if I let my guard down. The problem is that words hurt too, and I can unfortunately say quite nasty things even without meaning them. I mean, there’s been one instance, back at the intensive support home, when I hurt someone’s feelings with a literal personal attack: I said that it was her fault that she got hurt during a fellow client’s outburst. This staff never requested to not support me anymore. With the two who so far did here, my comments weren’t intended as they came across and, while they could literally be seen as hurtful, I didn’t mean them personally and had no bad intentions whatsoever.

I struggle intensely with this knowledge, that I don’t intend to hurt people but that I do it nonetheless. I also struggle to figure out a way to stop this. After all, they are not insults that caused these staff to reject me (though I called them both bad names too). If they were the insults, it’d be doable to erase these from my vocabulary, as I’ve mostly successfully done with certain other words. However, like I said, they were their interpretations of my comments about how they don’t know me that hurt their feelings. This is harder for me to process, as it means being aware of every possible interpretation of something I literally say. This is quite hard for me as an autistic person with virtually no cognitive empathy.

Besides, as I now realize, I probably have low emotional empathy too, as I wasn’t able to predict that the staff was just going through the motions when I thought we’d talked things over. She in fact supported me through an intense movement therapy session and I didn’t pick on her struggling at all. This makes me feel even worse than the fact that I didn’t realize at the time that my words were hurtful.

This low emotional empathy realization makes me feel like I’m a monster. Aren’t autistics supposed to have high emotional empathy? Aren’t psychopaths and narcissists the ones with low emotional empahty? I mentioned possibly being a narcissist to my wife and she denied I am. Then again, aren’t narcissists masters at making their loved ones believe they are the victim? Is all this my attachment anxiety talking, or is there some truth to the idea that I don’t deserve to be supported?

Narcissism, Narcissistic Personality Disorder and “Narcissistic Abuse” #AtoZChallenge

Posted on by Astrid

Hi everyone and welcome to my letter N post in the #AtoZChallenge. Today, I want to talk about narcissism and narcissistic personality disorder. I’ll also talk about the controversial topic of “narcissistic abuse”.

When looking up the definition of narcissism, several different descriptions come up, but an overarching theme is an extreme sense of self-importance. In psychoanalysis, narcissism is thought to be due to a person’s inability to distinguish themself from external objects. This is thought to occur naturally in infants but may also arise as a result of a mental disorder.

Narcissistic personality disorder (NPD) is defined by the American Psychiatric Association as a pattern of exaggerated feelings of self-importance, excessive need for admiration and a reduced capacity for empathy. Symptoms include:


  • A grandiose sense of self-importance.

  • Preoccupation with fantasies of unlimited success, power, beauty or ideal love.

  • Belief that they are special or unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, specific people/institutions, usually those with high status.

  • Requiring excessive admiration.

  • A sense of entitlement, such as expecting especially favorable treatment or automatic compliance with their expectations.

  • Being interpersonally exploitative.

  • Lack of empathy: unwillingness and inability to identify with the feelings of others.

  • Often being envious of others or believing others are envious of them.

  • An arrogant, haughty attitude.


There is also an alternative model of describing personality disorders, which lists NPD as having two main criteria: grandiosity and attention-seeking.

There are two main subtypes of NPD: malignant and vulnerable. The malignant type is how most people see a classic narcissist, whereas those with the vulnerable type display more negative affect and shame.

As I look over the criteria of NPD, I can somewhat see why some people have called me “a little narcissistic”. I, after all, do see myself as unique and feel that I can only be understood by a handful of people. Unlike actual narcissists though, I don’t think of myself as “better” than others and, as a result, the people who will understand me are most certainly not high-status people.

Now on to “narcissistic abuse”. This is a term used to describe abuse, mostly psychological, perpetrated by people with NPD. However, it is more commonly used for any long-standing pattern of psychological abuse. As such, many people have come to call their toxic parents, partners or other abusers “narcs” even when these people don’t have a formal diagnosis of NPD. I’m not sure how I feel about this. On the one hand, it’s stigmatizing a mental disorder and also providing excuses for abusers (after all, they can’t help being a “narc”). On the other hand, well, it’s a major thing in abuse survivor circles and I need support regardless of what my abusers are or are not being identified as. I lean towards not believing in “narcissistic abuse” as its own thing.

I Am Not Alone: Reflections on Being Different As an Enneagram Four

Posted on by Astrid

I have been watching videos about the Enneagram recently. One I watched, talked about the differences between a 5w4 (Enneagram type Five with a strong Four wing) and 4w5. One of the distinctions the YouTuber made was that Fours tend to take pride in their being different, while Fives try to hide their difference. That kind of hit a nerve with me.

I always saw myself as so uniquely different from others that it’s almost impossible to be true. Not just in the “You are unique, just like everybody else” type of sense. In fact, I always thought that I belonged to just a little too many minority groups to be real. I thought that there must not be anyone else in the entire world who could relate to my combination of minority statuses.

At the time, I was about fourteen and just identified as blind and possibly queer. Well, I know quite a lot of blind people who are part of the LGBTQ+ community now.

Then came being autistic, having dissociative identity disorder, my childfree status, etc. My fourteen-year-old self would certainly have believed no-one in the entire world would belong to all of these groups. Well, quite truthfully, I’ve met several people who belong to most if not all of these minority groups. That’s the great thing about the Internet.

About ten years ago, I read something on Tumblr that should’ve struck a chord with me, but didn’t. I read that, if you are white, but belong to a hundred minority groups, you are still white. Of course, the point was to prove that white privilege isn’t negated by other minority statuses. I at the time started writing a list of ways in which I was privileged, but didn’t realize these are also ways in which I am part of the majority. Ways in which I belong to the human mainstream.

Instead, I still focused my attention, aside from that one blog post and acknowledging when I’d reacted out of privilege in safe spaces, on ways in which I’m different from the mainstream. And still I somehow couldn’t believe there were people who genuinely belonged to at least as many minority groups as I did. I still somehow saw myself as the most special person in the world.

Isn’t that a bit grandiose, narcissistic even? In fact, feeling that only a select group of “special” people will understand me, is the only legitimate narcissistic personality disorder trait I have.

The truth is, everyone is special and everyone is unique and everyone has some parts of themselves that ar ordinary at the same time. At the core, no-one is fundamentally different from everyone else. And isn’t that a wonderful thing to realize? After all, it means that, at the core, we all have something in common which connects us to each other. That of course doesn’t mean I need to associate with all seven (eight?) billion people in the world. It just means that there will always be someone out there who can relate to me. Just like there is no-one exactly like me (God created us all individually for a reason, after all), I am not radically different from anyone else (we were all created equal, after all).

Valid? #SoCS

Posted on by Astrid

I’m not sure I’m valid. I joined some groups for highly sensitive people and empaths on Facebook. I relate to literally almost every trait associated with being an HSP/empath. Then again, I’m also autistic and this means I don’t have the cognitive ability to know what’s expected of me in social situations.

I’ve heard there’s some theory about autistics being hyperempathetic where it comes to feeling others’ emotions but less able to know what another person needs. Something with cognitive empathy being lower than emotional empathy. Or was it the other way around? I have no idea and am too lazy to google it now.

I always feel like I want to see myself as a lot more positive than I am. I mean, some people close to me have said I even have some narcissistic traits. Some people think of me as a pretty stereotypical autistic and I’ve always felt good about that, as it validates my feelings of being different and my need for support. Empath/HSP only validates my feeling different.

Yet sometimes I feel that my seeing myself as somehow highly sensitive, is a way of obscuring my negative traits. It’s not that I don’t see them, but that I label them positively in a way. I mean, 90% of empathy traits are worded at least somewhat negatively. For example, have you been told you are “too sensitive?” Do you need alone time a lot? When a friend is distraught, do you feel it too? Heck, I sense negativity a lot, but isn’t that just me being a generally negative person?

I have a feeling that part of the reason I want to see myself as unique somehow, has to do with an external locus of control. I don’t want to see my huge flaws and instead go label them as assets or blame them on my childhood trauma.

And yet most people say I have a negative self-image. My CPN from mental health wants me to do a module of cognitive behavior therapy on helping me get a better self-image. Maybe I need to learn to see myself as just the ordinary person I am without either negative or positive stuff that make me different. After all, when I say I’m a pretty good writer, people close to me often say: “Well, about average for someone with your education.” Apparently I’m quite arrogant in this respect.

So am I allowed to feel different or is that just an excuse to set myself apart from the herd? Remember, feeling like you can only be understood by certain people, usually those with high status, is a narcissism trait in the DSM. I’m not sure. I want to feel okay about myself, but doesn’t that mean seeing my negative traits too? And seeing them as well as the positive ones for what they are: just traits? I guess I’ll learn this in the module.

I’m joining in with #SoCS, for which the prompt today is “val”.

Was I Sometimes Raised as a Golden Child?

Posted on by Astrid

I have been feeling really off lately. I keep having flashbacks. I also keep having what I’d describe as flashforwards, where I imagine my parents’ reaction to the different possible outcomes of the long-term care situation. These then lead to more flashbacks. One particular flashback I keep having is to a phone conversation I had with my mother when I’d just been admitted to the mental hospital in 2007, or maybe it was shortly before then. She yelled at me “You can’t even wipe your butt without your support worker there”. While this was and still is exaggerated, I do have issues with my personal hygiene, including sometimes with toileting.

I have noticed that there’s a lot of shame attached to my needs. Like, there is this constant nagging voice in my mind saying that I really do manipulate everyone into giving me more care. After all, am I not getting by? This part of me is telling me to erase everyone from my life and just go live on my own, since even if I lived with my husband and no support, there was still my husband to be manipulated.

I was discussing all this with my nurse practitioner last Thursday. He said even if I do manipulate people (and I no doubt do, as does everyone else), these people also let themselves be manipulated. Like, if they have an attitude like they’d rather help me with every little thing than endure my frustration, it’s no wonder I become dependent.

There was this show on Dutch television last Sunday about a second grade class. I didn’t see it, but a term used in it that was repeated often throughout the week, was “curling mother”. I have no idea whether that’s the correct English term, but it refers to a parent who helps their child with everything until they’re eighteen and then magically expects them to have learned independence and leave the nest. My nurse practitioner was reminded of this when I described my parents. It feels odd, because even though yes my parents did help me with every little thing, this expectation that I move out at eighteen was made very explicit from an early age on. It wasn’t like my parents were hoovering over me not realizing that they’d not be there for me forever. In fact, I’m pretty sure they couldn’t wait for me to move out. It just ugh, feels so off. Like I was spoiled somehow because my parents did everything for me.

At this point, I remember a discussion in an inner child healing group in which the original poster commented on some author or speaker saying that the golden child of narcissistic parents suffers a lot. This person was confused, because the golden child is the child favorited by the narcissistic parent, the child who doesn’t get abused (or so it seems). Some people said that the golden child suffers a lot because, well, they are only the narcissist’s favorite as long as they live up to their perfect standards.

I was raised in a household where the golden child/scapegoat roles reversed repeatedly. For those not aware, the scapegoat is the main target of obvious abuse in a narcissistic family. As such, I can relate to a lot of golden child attributes. Like, I was often praised excessively, bragged about and let off the hook. Then again, I was, and this was always very clear, expected to livve up to my parents’ perfect-image plan for me. Once I stopped doing this, I was placed in a clearer scapegoat role.

It still feels off to think of myself as having been spoiled. I know Pete Walker says spoiling is a severe kind of trauma too. However, in society, it is often treated like the spoiled child is to blame for being spoiled. And they definitely aren’t. Only as adults can they choose to undo the effects of this trauma, but they have to admit it first. I have to accept this.

Emotional Flashbacks: I Tend to Fight

Posted on by Astrid

I just read up on trauma-related symptoms and was flooded with emotional flashbacks. An emotional flashback is where you are reminded of a past traumatic event but don’t remember it in visual detail. Rather, you feel the emotions associated with the event. You then respond in a usually maladaptive way that is associated with your trauma.

According to Pete Walker, there are four types of trauma responses related to emotional flashbacks: fight, flight, freeze and fawn. I have yet to read up on them all in Walker’s book Complex PTSD: From Surviving to Thriving, but I think I most relate to fight, followed by freeze and fawn. Interestingly, in this book, Walker also discusses specific combinations of responses, such as the fight-fawn hybrid (I think that would be me).

I feel sad, because Walker calls the fight response, which is my most common first reaction, “narcissistic” and on his website relates it to being spoiled. I have yet to read up in his book on whether this is the only trauma that can elicit a fight response, as I was not usually spoiled. Or was I?

When discussing my upbringing with the psychologist who gave me my autism diagnosis back in 2017, after another psychologist had taken it away, I mentioned my parents not letting me develop my independence skills. That is, when I tried to develop independence skills, I was often left to my own resources and not consciously taught. Then as soon as I got frustrated (which I reckon is a natural response), my parents gave up and would do stuff for me. The psychologist called this simultaneous over- and underestimation.

I was rather frustrated with the fact that I was seen as having been underestimated, as this didn’t resonate with my feeling of chornic overwhelm. Also, it somehow feels like it’s a character flaw on my part that I got let off the hook, whereas I consider other forms of bad parenting that I endured to be my parents’ responsibility. Really though, ultimately, it’s my responsibility to heal.

Linking up with RDP #83: Remember.