Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Being Human

 Last night we were watching something called "Being Human." It's a story about a werewolf, a vampire, and a ghost, all hanging out in one house. They offer support to each other as they face the trials and tribulations of blending in with "normal" society.
The werewolf is really getting tired of being a werewolf. It led to the untimely death of his fiance, and  Match.com has banned him for life.
His "maker" doesn't understand.  He thinks being a werewolf is the greatest. Except for that it really got in the way of his marriage to a non werewolf. So he finally sat his wife down and fessed up. She accepts him and wants to make the marriage work.
The lessor werewolf found out that the only chance for him to return to normal is to kill his maker. He went  over to whack him and that led to a conversation about how werewolves can assimilate into a non werewolf environment, provided the humans in their life know and understand the werewolves predilection for running people through a wood chipper. At this point, I was oblivious to any analogy between the story and malignant narcissists.
So the maker turns to his protege, and with the straightest face I have seen since Hillary listened to Monica's public apology, and he says this:

My wife and I get along fine. I just have to spend one night a month shackled in a steel lined basement.

I about fell out of my chair laughing. I wondered why no one ever took this tack with my mother?
But you know? If I have to metaphorically chain someone in the basement to keep from being eaten alive, I think it's time for me to move along.
And that's exactly what my mother was doing with her N rages.
Medium chill might work for the engulfing narcissist. But a malignant narcissist won't be managed this way.
I was a 51 year old man, walking around my mothers house like a mouse between two cats.
That's no way to live. Just because some mean ass bitch is bored and likes drama.


vicariousrising said...

I thank god (if I believed in a god that would hear such things, that is) all the time that my mother doesn't have any friends to wreak her ugliness upon in any meaningful way. She'd deny she has no friends and never really has, but it's true. She's too good for anyone and her opinions are too superior for other people to manage, or do she tells herself. I think she's so terrified people will see her true nothingness, she can't function properly in society. When etiquette rules were a little more in vogue, she managed better. But increased delusions and more casual manners leave her without a mask to fit properly.

Still, I wouldn't have minded her being chained in the basement or locked in the attic. The people whose lives she has infected are too many.

I have to watch this show. I keep hearing good things about it.

q1605 said...

Yeah it's hard to let your guard down and keep it up all at the same time.