Week 4: What does narcissism have to do with me?
To get inspired for this topic, I decided to read the first 30 or so entries. It turns out that several of them did such a good job at summing me up that I had to include them in my own entry this week...
Because while the guy I knew wasn't a champion vagina shaver, he sure did think he was God's gift to the world. Quite literally. He took such exaggerated offense to my decline of a lunch date, he accused me of being rude, unspiritual, and viewing him as "some kind of religious prick." (Well, that last part was actually kind of right on.)
--
Because I literally had the exact same freakout at Facebook a few days ago. Nobody commented on the pictures I'd posted, and I don't have a caffinated-privacy-setting-lockdown to blame. (Though maybe I should check them, just in case...)
--
Because I can relate to this pain. On a physical level. And even more deeply, having dealt with depression. It grabbed my heartstrings and wouldn't let go. And while I wouldn't wish these feelings on anyone, I think it is at least in part why the empty, the dark, and the achingly beautiful speak to me on such a core level.
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What does narcissism have to do with me? Well, I'm a writer. Writers are narcissists. We view ourselves as the center of our world, real or imagined. We extract the funny, the ridiculous, the painful, the brilliant pieces of ourselves, and we share them. We sit back, breathless, and we can't believe we actually shared this bit of information or that huge secret. And in our vulnerability, someone else is able to find understanding. Peace. Laughter. And maybe that someone else tells us how our writing made them feel.
It is in that moment when we realize that we are not alone in our world. We are, in fact, more connected than we ever knew.
(Many thanks to elionwyr sonarvampress, monkeysugarmama, imafarmgirl, n-maranda-coy, miintikwa and banyangirl1832 for connecting with me this week. To the rest of you, rest assured you will connect with someone through your work this week. Never stop sharing.)
Because while the guy I knew wasn't a champion vagina shaver, he sure did think he was God's gift to the world. Quite literally. He took such exaggerated offense to my decline of a lunch date, he accused me of being rude, unspiritual, and viewing him as "some kind of religious prick." (Well, that last part was actually kind of right on.)
--
Because I literally had the exact same freakout at Facebook a few days ago. Nobody commented on the pictures I'd posted, and I don't have a caffinated-privacy-setting-lockdown to blame. (Though maybe I should check them, just in case...)
--
Because I can relate to this pain. On a physical level. And even more deeply, having dealt with depression. It grabbed my heartstrings and wouldn't let go. And while I wouldn't wish these feelings on anyone, I think it is at least in part why the empty, the dark, and the achingly beautiful speak to me on such a core level.
--
What does narcissism have to do with me? Well, I'm a writer. Writers are narcissists. We view ourselves as the center of our world, real or imagined. We extract the funny, the ridiculous, the painful, the brilliant pieces of ourselves, and we share them. We sit back, breathless, and we can't believe we actually shared this bit of information or that huge secret. And in our vulnerability, someone else is able to find understanding. Peace. Laughter. And maybe that someone else tells us how our writing made them feel.
It is in that moment when we realize that we are not alone in our world. We are, in fact, more connected than we ever knew.
(Many thanks to elionwyr sonarvampress, monkeysugarmama, imafarmgirl, n-maranda-coy, miintikwa and banyangirl1832 for connecting with me this week. To the rest of you, rest assured you will connect with someone through your work this week. Never stop sharing.)