The Narcissist's Crazy Projections

Most narcissists are morons. Living in the land of delusion, lacking the ability to introspect, and going through life with their heads stuck dangerously far up their asses makes them incredibly clueless. So, it’s no surprise when they blurt out the most blatantly obvious projections.

Being surrounded by a countless array of oblivious narcissists has put me at the receiving end of some really obnoxious projections. I thought I would share some of them:

The Diabetic Cookie Monster N: This N lives alone; his kitchen is always stocked with cakes, cookies, pecan tarts, doughnuts, cinnamon rolls, and sweet, syrupy port wines. He shoots insulin just so he can continue eating sugar.  There is a brand new box of cookies on the counter and I take one. A few days later, I open the box and it’s empty. I shake the box and look inside and the N says to me; “You sure do love your sweets.”

The Financial Failure N: This N has no steady work, lousy credit, a ton of debt, and a very personal relationship with the Mob - a.k.a Visa. I’ve got a decent job, was just approved for a mortgage and am shopping for a condo. I’m driving with the N in my car. A driver in a BMW is tailgating me. I remark that I don’t like BMW drivers because they are arrogant; they always speed; run reds and go a thousand miles an hour through school zones. The N says to me; “You’re jealous of wealth.”

The Chubby N: This N is actually on the obese side. His addiction is food. He loves to eat. We order our meals at a restaurant, and before the food arrives he asks for another plate of garlic bread - just in case. The Chubby N manages to inhale a huge dinner, including the extra plate of garlic bread. We go to a park to walk off the meal. The N is feeling the effects of his excessive gorging.  He rubs his protruding belly and looks over at me and says; "You look bloated."   

The Sleepwalker N: This N has sleepwalked through her entire life. As long as I have known her – 20 years – she has the done the same thing day in and day out. She’s lived in the same apartment for over 30 years and has not once rearranged her furniture. Her family offered to buy her a condo but she couldn’t exert the energy needed to move and didn’t want to endure the “stress” of moving. She is often referred to as a “dead-beat” because she is so lifeless and bland. She speaks in a monotone voice. She is never really happy or angry, or sad, but she is an infernal whiner.

Her primary relationship is with her narcissist mother. She is clueless, dense and completely out of it. She is NOT present at all. For example; one time she was over at my place and we were getting ready to leave, and I couldn’t find my keys. I always put them in the same spot on the counter, so I was baffled. I searched everywhere. For about 20 minutes, I racked my brain and turned my place upside down. The dozy headed N just stood there, in the same spot, lost in her own world. I noticed that she was clutching something and I asked, “What’s in your hand?” Sure enough, the whole time I was looking for my keys, she was holding them. Her keys were in her purse but I guess she thought she was in her own apartment so when I said, “let’s go” she grabbed the only set of keys in sight.

I move into a new apartment and it’s an adjustment. I tell The Sleepwalker N that going from the top - 12th floor - of a building to living on the the second floor is really different; they are so many new sounds to get used to. The Sleepwalker N says in a condescending tone; "Aw, you're such a delicate flower." 

I tell the Sleepwalker N that I went out on a date with a guy who talked about himself the entire time. I tell the Sleepwalker N that I was polite, asked questions, and stayed interested in what he had to say. Then I told the N that when I tried telling my date some things about myself, he looked at the ceiling or right past me, or at his watch and he actually yawned. The Sleepwalker N Dead-Beat says smugly; “Well, maybe when you’re "excited" about your life, someone else will be.”
This was also projection in the sense that like all narcissists, she had absolutely no interest in my life. It's so refreshing to break the narc food chain and have relationships with people that actually give a shit about you and show an interest in your life!

The Socially Bizarre N: This N is on the wrong side of 40 and has never worked a day in her life. Other than a few narcissistic fantasy projects, she has never held a job – she’s too entitled to work. Besides; she’s a pathological control freak, who must always be in charge, and doesn’t have the social skills to work well with others. She’s also a compulsive hoarder and has not let anyone into her home for over a decade. She’s also a hermit who doesn’t leave her home, unless of course, it’s to see a doctor for one of her imaginary illnesses. She’s also a hypochondriac. She has one friend – another N – who is kept safely at a distance. She has a flying monkey and a MN Mother (yep it’s MN Sister). If people are kind enough to lend her things, or even drop of Christmas dinners, they are to be left at the gate of her building by the street.  The Socially Bizarre N is always pathologizing people and speculating on who is “low-functioning.”

I'm working at a very busy job that involves a lot of socializing at industry parties. During one telephone conversation, I tell the N that I think an actress on a TV show is really good at the character she plays. The Socially Bizarre N says in a condescending tone; “Oh, that character reminds me of you. YOU just don’t fit in anywhere.”

The Demonic N:  My entire childhood, this MN screams at me: “Who the hell do you think you are!?”  “I’m going to annihilate you!!” “I’m going to annihilate you!!” “I’m going to wring your bloody neck!”

She also screams:  “Your brother is afraid of you!!” “You’ve got the devil in you!!”

Those examples are just a drop-in-the-bucket of N projections that I have experienced over the years. On a positive note, the only remaining N in my life is The Cookie Monster.