In narcissistic personalities the experience of emptiness is most intense and almost constant. In these cases, emptiness, restlessness, and boredom constitute…a baseline of pathological narcissistic experience.
— OTTO KERNBERG, M.D.,
Borderline Conditions and Pathological Narcissism1
Who could be luckier? We ask ourselves this question, witnessing the extraordinary ease of the narcissist, privileged in every way. Fame, power, status, and success surround him like a birthright. He is a rarefied creature, an exotic bird, who deserves more than the rest of us. We view him with a twinge of envy. He satisfies his cravings and desires; he has no limitations; he is admired by everyone. It all seems unfair. We wonder: “What’s the matter with me? Why don’t I measure up? Am I so defective or weak or unlucky that I don’t deserve more? Why is his life exciting and full and mine so dull and mediocre? No matter how hard I work I cannot succeed the way he does.”
The narcissist is never at peace. Quiet and contentment evade him. His engines of cunning are always at work. He leads a life of restless, compulsive activity. The narcissist is always in a race that he must win. He competes in every arena—sports, sex, business, social status, material acquisitions. If he is a millionaire, he must become a multimillionaire, even a billionaire. If he is vice-president, he must become president. If he has one lovely home, he needs to make it larger and grander. One house is not enough; he must own several more. His vacations are luxurious jaunts designed for self-indulgence and future elaborate storytelling and name dropping. Beneath the restlessness lies chronic boredom. The narcissist cannot just “be.” He is incapable of quiet reflection or insight. He marches relentlessly forward, doing his special life’s work—demonstrating how wonderful he is.
Hour by hour and minute by minute, the narcissist seeks ways to stave off his emotional thirst. Inside, his well is always dry. He must constantly turn to the external environment to get the life-sustaining water that he needs to survive—praise, recognition, sexual conquests, power. To achieve this, he chooses dependent individuals who continually quench his psychological thirst with compliments, accolades, and blind loyalty. Many narcissists provide themselves with sumptuous lifestyles that convey to everyone that they have “made it.” The narcissist selectively chooses others who will resonate with his vision of self. He devises an ongoing array of rewards that continually feed his ego with the persistence and predictability of an IV drip.
Like a hungry wild animal, the narcissist searches his environment for sustenance. His psychological foods are admiration, wealth, power, fame. Without these ego gratifications, he feels diminished, even dead. He meticulously constructs an entire lifestyle that supports his distorted beliefs. Narcissists are constantly on the hunt, stalking the tall grasses for game that will satisfy their enormous appetites. As soon as he satiates himself with one reward—money, power, luxuries, tributes, honors—he is hungry for the next. The successful narcissist creates an intricate system of positive feedback in the form of friends, associates, partners, spouses—who perpetually fulfill his endless needs. When the sources of these ego rewards become unavailable or fail him, the narcissist experiences intense feelings of emptiness.
The narcissist’s experience of emotional emptiness is beyond longing or sadness. It is a severe and intractable wounding, a pain so savage and deep that it seems intolerable. The psychological landscape of the narcissist is bleak. He has no inner resources to sustain him. He cannot turn to himself or others for real affection or solace. Although he enjoys the transient loyalty of dedicated followers, no one really cares about him. The narcissist feels empty because he is completely alone. Like a house without furniture or a landscape without vegetation, his inner world is devoid of meaningful relationships. All signs of life have disappeared.
Narcissists indulge themselves extravagantly. They have no difficulty taking extended vacations, owning enormous houses, buying the newest private jets. It is almost impossible to imagine the level of excess that these individuals attain. They build immense monuments to themselves that contain more square footage than many public buildings. Narcissists support huge entourages that are on call twenty-four hours a day to respond to their every need—physical, emotional, sexual, spiritual. They host parties that cost in the millions and are given principally to display and demonstrate their exceptional social and financial status.
Narcissists keep score. They watch rivals with microscopic vigilance. A narcissistic billionaire is envious of a multibillionaire. It is difficult to imagine a rivalry among billionaires, but this is the rarefied world of competition among the most successful narcissists. This does not mean that all billionaires or millionaires are narcissistic. Wealth alone or lack of it are not determinants of a diagnosis of narcissistic personality disorder.
The extremes of narcissistic acquisitiveness are startling. Candace had been married to Antoine, a vascular surgeon, for three years. The third of his wives, she was, at thirty-eight, the youngest, and the most beautiful. She enhanced Antoine’s image as a successful, virile, attractive man of sixty-five. The couple led privileged lives. They owned three magnificent houses and several vacation hideaways. They took frequent cruises. Candace’s need for self-care went far beyond that of her friends, social acquaintances, or anyone else. She secretly and compulsively shopped daily in the fanciest stores. She hired private chefs to prepare their daily meals. Terrified of looking older (she told everyone that she was twenty-eight), she built an elaborate home spa and hired a staff of beauticians, personal trainers, dieticians, and masseurs to attend to her beauty needs around the clock. Every month Antoine was deluged with large credit card purchases for luxury items and personal-care services. He became furious with Candace but forgave her quickly. She resumed her excessive spending and her endless cycle of indulgence, satiation, and craving.
Certain professions by their nature (movie, television, and stage actors; models; professional athletes; politicians) offer a continual supply of ego food. With their emphasis on the outward image and performance (beauty, handsomeness, youth, sexiness, athleticism, desirability), these occupations attract narcissistic personalities. The exhibitionistic nature of their work provides narcissists with unending opportunities to reinforce their vanity and activate their grandiosity. They are surrounded by a built-in audience, always clapping and smiling. Entertainers (stage, screen, television) are the recipients of a constant stream of adulation. The audience sitting in the dark identifies with the actor in the spotlight. We idealize entertainers as we watch them perform. We fantasize about their personal lives. We put our wishes and desires into them. Some entertainers are worshiped. Our narcissistic society encourages the veneration of entertainers by raising them to the status of cultural royalty.
There are actors who feel truly alive only when they are onstage. They believe their press clippings, adoring fans, and glowing reviews. When the applause stops, particularly when they are old and the best roles are no longer forthcoming, the sense of emptiness becomes overwhelming. As the external attractiveness drops away and he is no longer sought after, the narcissistic actor recedes and withers into a dying shell.
Politicians are entertainers. Their stage is the political arena, their audience, the voters. They perform in Washington, in their districts, while campaigning and during the twenty-four-hour news cycle. Politicians are constantly activating their egos. With the emergence of a ubiquitous media, the temptation for politicians to perform rather than serve has become too great to resist. In front of the cameras and on the campaign trail, the narcissistic politician feels energized and inflated. He is stage center, the person everyone comes to see. His emptiness is continually filled by the approving attention of his constituents and the mass audience.
The narcissist manufactures elaborate escapes designed to obliterate his feelings of emptiness. One method of flight is the sexual affair, a shallow relationship that creates instant diversion. Many narcissists are compulsive womanizers who use sex as a drug to keep themselves feeling both physically and psychologically potent. Male narcissists often have a series of mistresses and girlfriends. When life with their wives becomes boring, they turn to other women to fill the void. What better way to distract oneself than to be in the arms of an always available adoring lover. Narcissists are often sexual thrill seekers. They keep several women (or men) on the string at a time, expertly dodging jealous husbands and wives. The possibility of getting caught heightens their sexual arousal.
“Her outburst took my breath away. I felt my adrenaline pumping all day long after her screaming fit. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Stacy is describing her experience as an employee of Nadine, the owner of a wedding consultant service. Nadine had a reputation for putting on idyllic weddings. Stacy had been offered an apprenticeship with Nadine’s company. Stacy revered Nadine from a distance; she had been reading about her mentor for years. She knew that the opportunity to learn from an expert would further her professional career. At first Stacy thought she was blessed. Nadine was bright, confident, and talented. Stacy shared all of her creative ideas with Nadine and found her new teacher to be very receptive. Within a short time their working relationship changed. Nadine became very demanding. A minor mistake was met with vicious attacks. Nadine saw Stacy as a potential rival and did everything she could to block her progress. She criticized Stacy at every opportunity. These events resulted in screaming matches. Nadine picked away at Stacy. Her voice grew louder and louder as she found greater fault with the quality of her student’s work. It was not unusual for Nadine to call Stacy “ignorant” and “stupid” in the presence of others. Nadine told Stacy that she “would never be able to make it in the business,” that she “simply lacked the talent and drive.” Nadine’s rage escalated. It bubbled over like an underground volcano, spewing to the surface in great fiery bursts.
The force of narcissistic rage is cataclysmic, designed to leave no survivors. The timing of its eruptions is unpredictable. There is no chance to escape and run for cover. The victim feels invaded, even assaulted. The aftermath causes emotional pain and devastation. The victim rises slowly and cautiously, checking himself for injuries. Expressing gratefulness for having lived through the ordeal, he anxiously wonders when the next violent jolt will occur and if he will survive it.
Rage is not anger. Anger is focused on righting wrongs and satisfying needs. Anger has a beginning and an end. When the goal is reached, the wrong adjudicated, the need satisfied, anger ceases. Long after the injustice has been rectified, the injury healed, the apology made—rage continues. Rage is primal; it is born and grows out of the core of the self. Rage promises chaos and destruction. Narcissistic rage propagates in the earliest years of childhood. It is the psychological remnant of a lack of parental empathy. Bottomless rage emerges from the severe psychological wounding of not being loved and cherished for one’s true nature. The child who must forfeit his authenticity to survive is the adult filled with rage. As a childhood victim, the narcissist unconsciously cries: “You didn’t love me for myself but for my gifts, my brilliance, my attractiveness. I could never be myself. You never gave me a chance. I became the child who reflected your self-importance and attempted to fulfill your ego needs. I hate you and want to destroy you.”
Bottomless rage begins with self-hatred. Narcissists harbor a contempt for themselves that is projected onto all of those who share their lives—spouses, girlfriends (boyfriends), children, business partners, friends, acquaintances, even strangers. No one is spared their wrath. The recipient of narcissistic rage feels embattled. He is caught off guard by the unpredictability and force of the attack. The narcissist is capable of rapid oscillations in his attitude toward you. In a single day he can be your best friend or an archenemy. No one is prepared for his abrupt mood shifts. These individuals perpetuate an atmosphere of apprehension and anxiety. Witnessing these shifting emotional weather fronts, one feels helpless, fearful, and inadequate. Narcissistic rage is fierce and relentless. Like the flow of lava to the sea, it offers no dispensations and shows no mercy.
With rage constantly riding on the narcissist’s shoulder, there are certain circumstances that produce major explosions in him. A classic case involves real or perceived betrayals by close associates and confidants. Josh, a twenty-five-year-old boy wonder, was hired by William to run one of the divisions of his elite publishing empire. Early on, William turned to Josh to both solve problems and share the creation of a new vision for the company. William gravitated toward the young man’s intellect, drive, and self-confidence. In the beginning, Josh idealized his boss, viewing him as a man of considerable acumen and savvy in the publishing world. After a few years, Josh held a powerful position as co-partner and confidant to William. Although William took all the credit for their accomplishments, he depended on Josh for professional advice. Josh had become William’s alter ego. Quietly and secretly, Josh used his quick rise in the company to springboard into a more challenging and prestigious professional move. When William discovered that Josh was leaving, he felt as if his arm had been amputated. How could Josh do this to him? His sense of betrayal quickly transformed into a seething rage. He wanted to reach out and kill Josh with his bare hands. William became obsessed with revenge. His vindictiveness had no limits. He vowed to smear Josh and obstruct his meteoric career one way or another. William continues the war. He will not stop until he has mortally wounded his former partner and confidant.
Narcissistic rage is fueled by intense self-loathing. The narcissist unconsciously despises those qualities in himself that he views as dependent and weak. Rage overflows in the narcissist when:
• his image is besmirched (threat of loss of attractiveness or loss of social or financial standing)
• others view him as imperfect
• he loses absolute control
• he is forced to admit he made a mistake
• he discovers a betrayal by a loyal lieutenant
• a rival shows him up
• he is publicly humiliated
Envy is a secret, taboo emotion. People don’t talk about their envies. Being envious makes us look bad. It is unseemly and embarrassing to openly admit that we want what someone else has. Envy is a strong, forbidden emotion, one of the seven deadly sins. There is no one more envious than a narcissist. They covet the beauty, youth, sexual prowess, and worldly power of competitors. They plot to get what they are determined to have, which belongs to someone else. Their envy is venomous.
Envy in the narcissist is skillfully hidden. Yet it burns in his gut. The narcissist conceals his envy from himself. After all, he knows he is the best. Why should he be envious of someone who is his inferior? This envy arises from a deep self-hatred. He hates those who love one another, knowing that he can never attain their state of commitment and devotion. He is confounded by human warmth, mutual dedication, and affection. Unconsciously the narcissist knows that he doesn’t lead a meaningful life, that beneath it all he is a fraud.
Jason and Fred became friends in art school. In the intervening years, Jason experienced great success as a commercial artist. He opened his own gallery and was influential in the art market. Fred struggled throughout his young adulthood to hone his skills and develop as a fine artist. Monetary compensation had eluded him until later in his career. After a series of critically acclaimed one-man shows, his work took off and he began to make a great deal of money. Jason and Fred became reacquainted. On a superficial level, Jason congratulated Fred on his recent triumphs. Secretly, he was envious and hated Fred for his success and in particular for his artistic talent, which was now being recognized. Jason had always told himself that Fred was a small operator who painted solely out of personal indulgence and assumed that he would never be noticed, let alone receive critical reviews and have his paintings sell out at every show. While Jason treated Fred as if the old relationship had resumed, he did everything in his power to block the showing of Fred’s work in prominent galleries. Secretly he used his contacts in the art community to undermine Fred’s future efforts to display his work. Jason’s envy was dark and blind, containing a malevolent quality.
The narcissist has many enemies, real and imagined. He spends a lot of time and energy planning elaborate attacks against those who would destroy him. Beneath it all, he trusts no one. He functions in an atmosphere of constant siege. He is suspicious even of his chosen few, a coterie of loyalists who are willing to fall on their swords for him.
Paranoia is a pervasive fear that others will harm or even destroy us. The narcissist lives in an unfriendly and dangerous inner world, despite the power and glamour of his external life. Inside, he is paranoid, tormented by anticipated attacks of perceived enemies. These core suspicions are the remnants of hidden, cold, aggressive internal parental images that he experiences as persecutors. All of this is concealed by the narcissist, who gives an impression of feeling secure. Dwayne, the CEO of a commercial real estate company, insists on elaborate security measures. He routinely tapes telephone conversations without permission from the other party. Dwayne listens to the tape repeatedly, dissecting every nuance of the conversation, looking for potentially incriminating information. This secret procedure is used to marginalize and destroy enemies and as ammunition for future battles. Dwayne demands that his staff call him from “safe” phones or see him in person to ensure that their conversations can’t be surreptitiously overheard or traced. In addition, he works closely with a favorite investigator to obtain secret, embarrassing details of the private lives of his perceived enemies and close associates. He lives in constant fear that others will destroy him. Although he courts envy with his flamboyant lifestyle and many luxurious perks, he is fully aware that there are dangerous forces in the shadows that can annihilate him. This justifies his use of invasive, illegal tactics. Beneath these elaborate security rituals, Dwayne is deeply paranoid.
The narcissist assumes the role of saboteur as a way of fending off real and imagined enemies. He is an expert at setting others up. The dance begins with his pursuit of the prospective victim. He quickly becomes the avid listener and confidant. He meticulously collects the intimate details of his new friend’s life, searching for and teasing out areas of vulnerability. He is masterful here, intuitively understanding the exact formula of personal secrets and weaknesses that will destroy his target.
Lisbeth, who after college used her drive and important contacts to work her way up the studio ladder, was in line to become an assistant director for a major film project. She found out through her sources that another woman with directorial experience, Paula, was her chief competitor for the coveted position. Lisbeth saw her rival as an archenemy and decided to do some detective work. She discovered that Paula had suffered from some past psychological problems and had been hospitalized after an attempted suicide. Lisbeth maliciously spread this personal information to all of her associates. She purposely met with Paula’s supervisor, and in a feigned sympathetic tone, expressed her concern that Paula was too mentally unstable to cope with the stress of an assistant director’s role. It might cause her to have another breakdown. Lisbeth’s detective work paid off. She secured the position, while Paula was left without a job or an explanation. Exhilarated by her triumph, Lisbeth went about her business. When others asked if she knew what had happened to Paula, Lisbeth shrugged and said, “Poor thing—it’s a mystery to me.”
The narcissist expects others to mirror him perfectly. He permanently casts you in the role of yes man. When a narcissist looks into your eyes, not only does he see his reflection but he expects you, in your words, gestures, and actions, to feed back to him his flawless vision of himself. Doing less than this enrages the narcissist and causes him to feel emotionally injured. The smallest criticism or oversight is a source of wounding. The narcissist has a brittle ego that doesn’t bend to the minor blows and indignities that we all must endure. Narcissistic egos are rigid, vulnerable to the subtlest slight. It is ironic that those who are so comfortable inflicting body blows on others cannot tolerate even the mildest criticism or affront. The flicker of an eyelash, a dismissive hand gesture, silence itself, can mean disapproval.
Russell, the president of a business management company, attended a dinner meeting with two prospective clients. The newest partner in the firm, Vanessa, was invited to lend support to a campaign that would attract prospective clients to the firm. Russell gave a long detailed presentation, highlighting the advantages of becoming associated with his company. Near the end of the meeting, Vanessa added a subsidiary point to the talk. Russell immediately interpreted her contribution as a criticism. He was wounded by what he perceived as a negative critique of his comments. After dinner, he attacked Vanessa for interrupting and interfering with his presentation. He threatened to fire her if this ever happened again. She hadn’t followed Russell’s script religiously, and now she would be punished. In reality, Vanessa’s comments were necessary, since Russell had given an inaccurate impression. His over-reaction was based on the emotional sting of being judged. The fact that this had occurred in public was doubly humiliating. Regardless of her superb performance as a partner, Russell will always feel sensitive to any comment that Vanessa makes. He reminds himself that he can fire her at a moment’s notice and dispose of his problem. Like the princess in the story “The Princess and the Pea,” the narcissist is vulnerable to the most infinitesimal criticism or slight.
Behind a mask of bravado, the narcissist suffers from deep despair. Unconsciously, he knows that he is a fraud. He has played roles all his life in exchange for love. He deludes himself and others into believing that these performances are real. From childhood, he mastered the parts that most pleased his audience and ensured endless applause.
There are unspoken words between the future narcissist and his mother or father. “Be what I expect of you—brilliant, confident, attractive, talented, strong—and you will be crowned with adulation and specialness; be your true self and you will be devalued and discarded.” For purposes of survival, the child cast away his real feelings—sadness, fear, loss, longing, tenderness—any sign of weakness that didn’t fit the narrow role dictated by his parents. But there are consequences to leading a false life. When life is performed rather than lived, it is hollow inside. The emotional residue of acting at life rather than living it is despair.
Aging for the narcissist is a special horror. As middle age winds down into old age, the meticulously erected illusions crumble. Physical attractiveness diminishes. Sexual vigor and potency decrease, fueling feelings of helplessness. It is during these crises that narcissists often turn to much younger partners as lovers, boyfriends, husbands, or wives. In some instances, men start new families with young wives to reconstitute a sense of lost potency and desirability. These are measures that appear to work. They are actually signs of desperation and disintegration. Terence enjoyed celebrity as a director of science fiction thrillers. Although his films never reached a high artistic level, he was an icon of the genre. He began his career as a film editor and was soon directing low-budget features. He had a gift for marketing mass-produced films, one right after the other. His success was repeated many times over, and he became very wealthy. He deluded himself into believing that he was a cinematic artist. Throughout his life, Terence treated people brutally, always pushing his own agenda. All of his relationships, both personal and professional, were tainted, bearing the mark of repeated intentional cruelties. His personal life was very complex. He had been married four times and had five children (one of them by a previous mistress). Terence used up the goodwill of his wives and children, as well as his friends and business associates. All his energies and motivations over his long life were narrowly focused: there wasn’t an act, opinion, feeling, or perception that wasn’t self-referential. Self was the touchstone of his being. Nothing else mattered. At the age of seventy-five Terence enjoyed every possible material luxury. He had traveled extensively throughout the world. He had achieved great fame. But a vital piece was missing. He had won the whole world and lost his soul. Terence died alone, enraged that he had not been treated with the deference he deserved. In the end he was overwhelmed by a hopelessness that wore him down until nothing was left.
A life of illusion, selfishness, and callousness catches up with the narcissist. He has incurred countless enemies. He has injured so many. Like candy wrappers strewn along a long road, he has used people up over the years. Everyone crossing his path was disposable. Victims of his treacheries, malignant lies, and broken promises continue to suffer. He has exploited and thrown away the lives of hundreds, even thousands, of people. The fateful accumulation of ill will has tipped; the act is worn and tawdry—old age has come to call. The narcissist knows that his life is over. His despair deepens to meet death.
Ultimately, the narcissist is burdened with a cold undeveloped heart that cannot be warmed or penetrated. Calling upon his familiar role as a magnetic individual with smooth social graces, he effects a convincing pseudo-empathy. Beneath this beguiling mask, he is a merciless fraud.