It is difficult
to explain the nature of a lie in a sociopath’s and Narcissist’s mind. It is
hard to explain how lying, to them, is only secondarily a matter of amorality
or immorality, or a middle-finger to the dupe (or to the world), or a
stratagem, or an angry offense, or a brain injury, or an amusement. Its primary
nature is to be an absolute, critical,
unavoidable need – a heart pacemaker – in his life. He must, that is, lie.
This is hard to explain because the cause of the disturbance lies in the fuzzy
and theory-heavy psychology of identity formation, a process secretly
crystallizing through birth and infancy.
For the
sociopath (psychopath) and Narcissist, identity formation failed. The person we
see is a shell containing a synaptic network of escapes from an identity crater.
Truth, factuality, reveals the real world, and in the real world he is a baby
on fire, a fire that no one can put out; a little boy gutted by anxiety and
lost in the moment, every moment; the infant who couldn’t bond with his mother
owing to birth trauma or mother’s character defect, and is therefore alone
forever. I’m suggesting that to him, any
truth – any unspun reality itself, whether it’s material, personal or remote –
will pull him out of his mind and into a disturbing place that he will not
identify but senses he must avoid.
How does truth gut
the sociopath or Narcissist? To be, to simply exist in the real world is to
have to feel, to feel the body self with its history, without holding onto the buoy
of thought. Either of the Heartless Pathologies is constantly – from waking to
unconsciousness – bathed in the ether of attitudinal thought whose theme is Ego,
a place beneath which he can never descend. To simply feel would be to become the muteness, deadness, lostness who
never left the starting gate of the crib, the circle of mother’s inept caregiving.
Do people grasp
that the “narcissopath” is living on this plane? No (most people don’t see what
a proctologist sees). They believe he is showing high or sinister vital emotion and
drive. But it’s all “holistic” escapism, running from hell. Try
to picture such an individual simply living, “smelling the roses” without a
cognitive hitchhiker on board: just sensing, experiencing, pleasuring in simple
silence. It should be impossible to picture what he cannot do. He will necessarily be thinking: “I need roses like this in my
garden,” or “They smell wonderful – who owns them?”, or “The scent brings back
my lonely childhood; I’m so much better now,” or he’ll be in a detached “head
place” that dims the redolence, decapitates it through dissociation. Thought is
the desert island beneath his feet that protects him from his deeper self.
One reason we
don’t see this false existence in others is that most of us live in the default of thought or attitudinal feeling. Most
of us have grown a cerebral layer over pain in our childhood. The difference between
us and the Radical Deformation will consist of how much loss of our real self we
have suffered, and how painful was the cause of it. A solider person might, for
example, acknowledge his or his son’s averageness with some pain, but will be
able to face it clearly or with a bit of finessing. A psychopath, whose heart was engulfed in flames at birth, will be able to face no flaw in himself, no emotional truth. The Narcissist, with less egregious birth trauma, may experience pockets of regressive maudlin sentiment. But to not be unique and apart from humanity
will be to feel the hole of his life: to be extinguished.
Not all escapist thought is Ego
There are many cognitive
escapes from identity pain; not all of them are narcissistic. For the child in
Levenkron’s book* who requested a vacuum cleaner for his tenth birthday and
spent his days ensuring the cleanliness of floor and walls, the ideal – or idea
– of purity staved off identity collapse, kept his nihilistic wisdom at bay. He could not accept the truth of a dirty floor, the impossibility
of a perfectly clean one. Reality was unacceptable because it made him feel the
descending spiral – anxiety, lack of a security-making bond with a parent, lack
of separation, and ultimately the absence of a self. Others
with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (or Obsessive-Compulsive Personality
Disorder) may need the rigid purity of morals – no messiness – or the ordering
of reality by counting, color coordinating, symmetry, thinking magical thoughts.
To touch reality, even one flaw or wrinkle, would be the touched water droplet: opening to formlessness.
The Narcissist became,
in early childhood, an absence that may have been filled by his parent’s
idealization. “Our perfect boy.” “He’ll play in Carnegie Hall one day.” He may
have been pampered as a prince pauper: always offered the last of the entrée or dessert,
though there were other people at the table; given no chores, no critical
correction, no consequences. Unable to grow in the vacuum of benign neglect, during
the adolescent crisis of maturity he would fall upward to the lifesaving
plateau of narcissism.
In summary: Being a lie makes lying necessary. An identity-hollow person,
who must still function in the world, can never let himself visit the truth.
Narcissists are understood to be delusional people: They “know” they are uniquely
special, perfect, entitled. Though they speak and walk and gesticulate with
aggressive confidence, and seem to be connected powerfully to our real world, they are
entirely insular, in a cave of dreams, living solely on the urge of self-beatification. Though you
vote for them, they do not feel you, see you, or care.
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* Steven Levenkron,
Obsessive-Compulsive Disorders,
Warner Books, 1991.
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Comments are welcome, but I'd suggest you first read "Feeling-centered therapy" and "Ocean and boat" for a basic introduction to my kind of theory and therapy.