Are you still unsure of the magnitude of crazy you receive from the disordered person in your life? Cluster-B's possess an instinctive ability to gas light the people around them with such varying intensities that it will keep you off balance forever. I was never sure if she was the crazy one, or if it was me. She would get me to the point of being convinced that she was crazy as a shit house rat, and then turn on the charm and make me feel horrible for ever thinking she was anything less than a saint.
What really separates a malignant narcissist from the garden variety ass hole, is their pathological inability to forget the smallest slight. No matter how relentless the battering from them that pushes us over the edge, confronting a cluster-B on their childish behavior is to have your actions thrown back in your face forever.
Their actions are minimized away and soon forgotten. You're defense from them is reinforced and hyper-inflated. That you finally stood your ground is something they must punish you for. It changes the dynamic between you and the narcissist for all times. They will never forget. They will never forgive. The insult is in the eye of the narcissist. And the eye of the narcissist is critical and jaundiced.
Once a person begins to establish a healthy boundary between themselves and the narc, they are insulted merely because you exist.
For me, the one time I stood my ground with my mother was the beginning of the end. My words corrected nothing. She was back to her her same old self as soon as the conversation was over. I just gave her rages justification, and I gave her an all purpose excuse to become difficult.
My mother still swims bitter creek over HER mother giving away one of her dresses to the family of a girl that lived on a farm down the road. A family that was just this side of starving.
That was over 70 years ago.
A home made dress sewed from cheap fabric. She still works herself into a frenzy about it. It would be entertaining in small doses. Hearing about the old days. But she is not recounting old times. She would rant about the conspiracy she endured and how her parents took what was hers without asking. She would smack the arm of her sofa over and over about how they stole her dress.
Any situation in which she has to give the slightest concession infuriates her. Because the barbarian doesn't concede. She only takes what she wants. If she ever gave something away, it was because someone stood over her and forced her to be gracious.