Here is a topic you probably haven’t thought about very often…
OK- you probably haven’t thought about it at all. But, recently, I’ve had cause to think deeply about this particular topic. What would happen during a zombie apocalypse? Where the hell would I be, if I were with my narcissist when it happened?
I’ll tell you where I’d be… dead. That’s where I’d be.
If you haven’t left your narcissist yet, then let me urge you to do so, if for no other reason than you don’t want to die during a zombie apocalypse, do you?
Ok, so I know this is a bit of a crazy tangent, and a totally random post, at that…but I had the opportunity to really consider this possibility just last week, when my husband was ill, with tonsillitis. If you didn’t know this, some (not sure of the percentage or anything) narcissists are hypochondriacs. Meaning, they don’t ever get sick…they have near-death experiences…Yikes!
So… my husband was dying of tonsillitis (hee hee) and he’s regressed to about 4, or 5, years of age (and I’m probably being generous). He’s, literally whining, and moaning, as though he were enduring the inquisition…and when I try to help him- or take care of him- so that he will feel more comfortable, he reacts as grumpy as a narcissist without supply.
Seriously, I would try to urge him to drink some warm honey and lemon, and he’s trying to lecture me on how he just needs mouthwash. The blue kind. The one that burns. That will fix everything. For sure.
“Yes, but while I’m out getting the damn mouthwash, drink your warm honey and lemon- oh, and add a dash of cayenne pepper, for good measure.” I tell him.
He’s still going on about how he needs the blue mouthwash. I’m warming up the honey and lemon. He sees my activity and starts in on how all that honey (a whole 2 tbsps.!!!) is going to give him a massive sugar headache on top of his, already practically-intolerable, pain. (Poor baby!)
I tell myself that, if I roll my eyes now, they’ll get stuck that way. It’s the only way to motivate myself to not be rude. And, look, I’m not saying that the blue mouthwash won’t help. I’m just saying that honey & lemon has been a trusted sore throat remedy for centuries…but, since, from my husband’s perspective, the honey & lemon is my personal suggestion, it has to be minimized, or his manhood is threatened.
Fine, I think. Let him suffer.
I’m a believer in mind over matter, and hubby is getting so freaked out by a silly sore throat, that he is actually making it a whole lot worse. As he’s is hyping himself up, I can literally SEE his throat, and jaw area start to swell, and even develop a rash. It’s really quite amazing to watch.I think that, if I got hurt in the Zombie Apocalypse, or (God Forbid!) one of the kids, his lack of calm presence would be making every possible injury, or illness, ten times worse! That would definitely NOT be a good thing, in a situation when your medical supplies are presumably limited.
I’m doing my best to keep him calm, while taking care if three other kids, and work, and the entire time, the man is being just a crotchety little shit. Imagine that, huh? After two night of this, I can’t take anymore, and we end up in the ER. Once in the comfort of the ER, I begin to do QE (that’s Quantum Entrainment: The Secret to Instant Healing**) on him again, and this time I can SEE the swelling start to go down! Now that he’s not freaking out, the healing is working quite well.
That is…until the nurse comes in and tells him he is going to need two, HUGE SHOTS, in his ass. One Penicillin, and one steroid…
Aaaaand- the man is 2 years old! There is innocent fear in his eyes. He is almost in tears. The nurse is telling him to lay down on his stomach and expose the butt cheeks. He is whining- LITERALLY WHINING!- “Fuck! This is so against my human instinct! I’m terrified of needles…I HATE needles!”
He lies down, then jumps right back up, pacing around the room. I’m thinking back to the period of time when I was on the Depo Provera birth control shot…and how this is WHY men don’t give birth…and why they can’t be responsible for birth control..seriously?! Once again, my mind flashes to what this would be like, if we were in the middle of a Zombie Apocalypse…This would be soooo bad.
How would we survive? I imagine zombies at the windows and doors, and me- alone with my children, because my valiant husband crying and bemoaning his fate- leaving me alone to deal with the situation, because he got a splinter or something…
In the end, I have to bodily hold him down…I have to lay my entire body, on top of his, in order to get him to stay still enough to get his shots. Really…I had to use ALL MY WEIGHT, to get him to be still. The craziest thing is, when I first met my husband, there was one night, where I was bored, and I took out a black sharpie and drew a “tattoo” on him. It was just a tribal design that covered the right-side of his back, and curled around his right shoulder, over his collarbone. He liked it so much that, the very next day, he went and got my design actually tattooed on him (talk about romantic/love-bombing, huh? Now THAT is dedication! Ha ha ha).
During the NINE HOURS OF TATTOOING, not ONCE…not ONE, SINGLE TIME, did I observe the man so much as FLINCH! And this is over the spine, and along the collarbone. My DID-Radar (that’s my Damsel-in-Distress radar) was off the charts! My ovaries were tingling, and I was thinking that THIS man would be my perfect partner during the Zombie Apocalypse. I was thinking I would be COMPLETELY SAFE. After all it seemed that this man could have limbs missing, and he’d still be running after zombies, screaming (like in the Monty Python movies) “Tis merely a flesh wound!” Apparently, that only applies if is NOT sick! If he has a cold, or sore throat, or something…well, apparently the kids and I, would be on our own!
So what’s the lesson?
If there is ever a zombie apocalypse, DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, team up with a sick narcissist. YOU WILL BE LEFT TO DIE!
On the upside…you could probably use a narcissist as good bait…I mean, since he’s dying anyway, you might as well shove him out the door, and while the zombie are busy with him… you can get the kids- and run! Incidentally, if your narc was really sick at that moment in time, you’d more than likely be more than eager to feed him to the zombies. That is, if he’s anything like my husband, when it comes to handling illness.
(I’m just kidding….sort of.)
What happened the last time YOUR narcissist got sick? Got any funny stories? I’d love to hear them!
Also, the author of the Quantum Entrainment book I linked to above, has another book called The Secret to Quantum Living, and it’s DEFINITELY worth a read. It has been an AMAZING resource and blessing, for living peaceful with a narcissist. I highly recommend you read it, or listen to it on audio-book.