adict375's Blog

Billy

Billy was an irritating child. His first word was no. His need for constant undivided attention was installed in him, and he didn’t seek it, he demanded it. From age 5 his character was shining clear. He was a nuisance during primary school, and because of the complaints from parents about his behaviour towards their children, he was forced to move school. Obviously at that age he didn’t know it, but all he really needed was an audience. Audience. The primary school Loreto, which was close and convenient and had both boys and girls, was now no good. He started grade 5 at an all-boy private school- Christ Church Grammar School, and was diagnosed as having A.D.D. during that year, and placed on dexamphetamines.

He pretty much left his old school with the clothes on his back, not remaining in contact with those he had spent the first 5 years of school with (including pre-school). He did leave behind what he had thought were relationships. He definitely did have 1 good friend, Tom, and they hammered Super International Cricket on Super Nintendo on weekends together, breaking incredible records.  He did maintain contact with Tom after he left Loreto, but what they had at school together would be lost. He was keen to make good first impressions with the boys at his new school, and spent time catastrophising about what could go wrong.

A change of school would be no help to Billy, as he was blind, deaf and dumb to whatever he had ‘apparently’ been doing wrong, which was why he had to look for a new school in the first place. Now here he was surrounded by unfamiliar new faces at a school where most students already had four year connections with each other. He didn’t have high hopes for himself with the change.

The only real embarrassing moment that Billy remembered from his old school was when his grade 4 teacher, Miss Rowe, rubbed a sample perfume from a magazine on the inside of his arm, and made him smell like a girl. The teacher never would have done it had she understood the level of heightened insecurity and sensitivity to criticism that Billy possessed. He went to the bathroom and struggled to completely remove the smell with soap, and even though nobody gave him grief about it, it was still a terrible experience for him.

That and the time Miss Rowe asked if the class knew what Real Estate was, and Billy vigorously raised his hand begging to be answered. He was probably the first to get his hand up, however the teacher gave other kids a go. It would have been at least 6 others that failed to answer the question correctly before Billy was finally given a chance. The opportunity to impress the whole class with the correct answer was there. So Billy went on to say it was hammers, screw drivers and other tools, confusing Hardware with Real Estate. It wasn’t like any of the previous answers had been correct either, so fortunately for him there was no big laugh at his failure.

Billy did still see a couple of the boys from his old school at the football club on the weekends. He was amongst the minority of good players in a losing side. Mom would be yelling ‘Steven Silvani’ at him from the side lines, as he played full back and was excelling in blocking opponents with nothing more than bumping, which was all they were allowed to do to combat opponents before the times of being allowed to tackle. He won best and fairest in his team in the under 12’s, however it was his dad that coached the side that year, who’s responsibility it was to chose the winner, therefore it could be debated that his decision had been influenced by the situation. However he won best player at the lightning carnival, and won the hand ball competition at it, during that same year. He would be to play for the grade 6/7 school team when he was in grade 6, and even though they didn’t share much of the ball with him, he still had a place in the 8/9 team in grade 8.

He went to his first AFL game at about age 7 which was between the West Coast Eagles and Carlton. The Eagles were the Western Australia team and had the majority of supporters there since it was their home game, so Billy decided he would go for Carlton. Anything to be unique. He still sticks by them to this day, but not with the same passion he once had when they were more of an underdog contender in his younger years.

Cricket is what he played during summer. He was a batsmen of course, all kids were. He also gained an interest in wicket-keeping and the coachs’ observation of his performance got him trapped in the job.  It earned him a spot in the 8/9 team during year 8 because he was good at the vital role, which fit in well with his need to be the centre of attention. It was the coach’ control and force towards him and his wicket-keeping that Billy didn’t respond well to. He never wore a box, and didn’t understand the possible consequences of not doing so at that age. His parents had bought him one, but it caused him problems. One day he tried it on and he started to get an erection.  It was an exciting feeling for him and he began to lie on his bed on his stomach, squeezing the box into his penis. He came to a climax experience and it was an orgasm without anything coming out. He would be prepared to take the risk and play without one, and because he had not hit puberty yet, he didn’t really feel he had much to lose. Puberty.

The move of schools was not easy. By this time Billy already had plans of leaving school as soon as possible and becoming a drug dealer, and saw it as harmless to announce to other kids his ambitions. Besides his skills in mathematics, school was not for him. All other subjects he would copy other students work, and his mother would do most of his homework and big assignments for him. Mum put good effort into his work and no doubt the teachers would have been able to notice. He managed to get a high distinction in the Annual maths test one year, but only thanks to someone elses intelligence. Because of his reputation in mathematics, his parents never doubted that the success was infact the efforts of their son. This was the only secret Billy was ever capable of with-holding from his parents, more so his mother.   

They gave the alternative A.D.D medication Ritalin a go during his last primary school years, but with no success either. After that the medication ceased. Whether or not psychiatrists had identified the correct problem, there was definitely something about Billy. He never really found a solid group of friends during these years, but he knew people, and it wasn’t like he was a loner. Being good at sports would get him priority selection from the nominated captains choosing a team during Phys Ed classes, and things like that mattered. As long as he had one friend, a source of attention, he would be okay. He was yet to learn how important people would come to be to him.

There was probably only one seriously controversial incident in his younger years, which involved both Billy and his sister Jane.  They went away together for a weekend and stayed with their Aunt Sue and her two teenage boys – their cousins – Danny and Sean. Jane and Billy’s parents remained puzzled by why their children were so noticeably relieved to get home that day, and out of curiosity his mother would occasionally remind him about that weekend – trying to provoke memories of any of its events. There is no information of any kind ever remembered about the incident, but by ages 20 and 22, both Billy and his sister Jane had mutually acknowledged that something did happen. Terrorized, was the word they agreed upon, to describe the events they both had no recollection of. Terrorized.

TICK

High School

It was to grow on him like cancer, and he would become so self-absorbed his first name was forgotten. High school. Things changed as he went from being the oldest class in the junior school, to the youngest year group in the High school. The group of 85ish he once knew in his year was now approximately 150. Lots of new faces, only one of them familiar – his Nintendo buddy from Loreto, Tom.

The hunter became the hunted. Kids must have smelt Billy’s insecurity, and he became the target of bullying. Approximately 80% were or had begun going through puberty in the 8th grade, not Billy. Puberty. That didn’t help his case trying to stand up for himself, but that was nothing compared to the impact the situation was having on his football. Billy ruled when players could only bump their opponents, and nothing changed when tackling was first introduced either. However his psychical development would be delayed, and he was to fall behind and no longer be able to compete and be number 1. Had to be #1

Everyone wanted to be a part of a group of friends, that’s why even the nerds joined up together. Billy would never be part of one. Little did he know, it wasn’t a group of friends he needed, his needs were to run the group. An Audience. Audience. How would he get an audience?

Swimming at Phys Ed class was a problem. They had to get changed in the locker room, and no signs of arm pit hair was a good indication that there was nothing downstairs either. Being bald down there was becoming more awkward by the day, and Billy caught a glimpse that he wasn’t the only one suffering the problem. Bald. But it was an all-boy’s school, and being at it was already considered as being gay enough for the insecure creatures there, and they wouldn’t be caught talking about dicks, lengths and sizes amongst their peers. Therefore criticism on the highly sensitive topic remained somewhat inexistent. Nevertheless it wasn’t fun going to a school ball with no ammunition.

Right at the start of the year he was in the High school library for the first time, and there was discussion about a guy Jamie and a chick named Jemma from Methodist Ladies College, which was the all-girls school directly opposite. Alex made a comment to him about the two of them having ‘dry sex’, and said “but he didn’t come”. Billy didn’t know what that meant and tossed up between replying with “come where”, or “when”. He ended up humiliating himself chasing after the guy asking him to explain it.

The pecking order began to establish itself amongst the 150 odd boys new to high school, about to be teenagers. Being considered cool was imperative to all individuals. It may have been an expensive private school in an exclusive area, but it was still a cut-throat game for one’s status. Above all, Billy’s need to prove himself was far more severe than average. Billy wanted out, but he still had a few years of schooling before he would be able to legally not attend. It was inevitable that he would be to dabble and experiment in drugs. After all, being a drug dealer was what he wanted to become.

It wasn’t to be with any of the other boys at school that he would try dope for the first time, which he had been seeking. It was with his 3rd cousin Kevin. Kev lived in Boddington 130k from Perth on a farm, and occupied an orchard, and that’s where Billy went to stay for a week during school holidays, with his younger brother Tim. Tim was 3 years younger than him. He was neither interested, nor would he have been allowed to smoke pot if he was. He was happy to keep his lip tight about the marijuana use, and Kevs’ collection of porn tapes. It was the first term break in year 9 and Billy was still not producing semin, however he was very intrigued by the porn.

Nothing about high school had gone drastically wrong for Billy so far. His popularity hadn’t blossomed the way he would have liked, but things were ok. His insecurities about being a late developer had not been exposed. He joined his friend Tom playing basketball with a few others during lunch time break. Obviously he never experiencing feeling part of their group, but it was the closest thing he’d ever get. Through Tom he met Richard and Samuel who were also both new students, and they were the basketball group. Both seemed like harmless lads to Billy, and they showed no signs of being obnoxious or having aggression or anything for Billy to be repelled by. Richard was interested in weed and that drew Billy closer to him, and Tom and Samuel eventually seemed to drift out of the picture.  

Weed was good, it almost made Billy feel a part of something. Two other lads- Wesley and Gurav, included him to smoke some weed with them. Wesley was to steal some supply from his father to provide it for the three of them. Not only did Billy share this information with his mother Jenny, he bragged about it to her. It was a mistake he would frequently make with her throughout his life. A quick phone call between her and Wesley’s mum was to be a devastating injury for Billy to have to recover from. Any status he once had was lost, and life had become worse for him at CCGS. 

He had a family friend Tim Wright a few years above him to confide in. Tim had known Billy since he was born. Tim was a ‘big brother’ figure in Billy’s life, and he perhaps idolized him a little. His sister Jane certainly thought so, and would accuse her brother of worshipping the ground that he walked on. Tim’s family was pretty well off and resided in Peppermint Grove. They had all moved back from Vienna, where they went to live temporarily, and ran a Cash Converters business there. Billy had missed not having Tim in his life for that period of 5 years. Tim didn’t approve of Kev having supplied Billy his first cone, and that gave Billy a feeling of importance. Tim had formed a negative narrow minded view of Kev which was based on him supplying minors with drugs, and the small amount of dialogue between them on the few occasions their lives had crossed, through Billy. Talk and rumours about them going back to live in Vienna permanently, had Billy worried. To be admired by someone like Tim was an opportunity that Billy would be resistant in letting go of.

Things were not going so well through year 9. Being labeled the boy who tells his mum everything influenced him dramatically. He started to buy coca cola cans in bulk and would bring them to school for sale for $1 each, which he paid roughly 50 cents for. The school canteen didn’t sell coke and it was prohibited to do so. He thrived on being a maverick and got some sort of buzz breaking the rules selling the coke, but it was his need for an audience that he was trying to cater to. It really didn’t matter what he was doing, as long as he had someone to watch him.

Amongst all his self doubt and the general feeling that the world was out to get him, he was slowly but surely growing an attachment to an image, an image that he would get grandiose, often delusional ideas of self-importance for the future of. Image. People would become as important as air and water for him, and he would grow to totally resent them for that. They supplied the mirrors for his image, at their discretion. People would become reluctant to meet his demands for supply, and he always carries with him the threat of running out of sources. They had his “drug”, therefore he was harmless to them. All people ever had to do was simply mimic him, and he would flee from their lives in a flash. Pure. Failure to secure an audience could be costly. Mistakes would be made during the manufacturing of his idealized self.

 TICK

I am a narcissist. Narcissists need people to feel alive. When you are with someone who is a narcissist, you will eventually pick up on the fact that you are giving him something. You are. You are giving him the drug he needs. He needs you to remind himself that he is alive. People become reluctant to continue to give a narcissist his drug, and the narcissist can eventually run out of sources of supply.

You are nothing to a narcissist but a source of supply. You are his drug dealer. The narcissist has no friends or enemies, just sources of supply. The narcissist has to preserve his “drug dealers” and a successful narcissist is capable of doing this. A narcissist is either getting his drug from you, or attempting to preserve the source of supply for the future. The narcissist only cares about supply. Money and sex are not necessary for a narcissist, infact he would rather hold back on sex if it meant keeping a source of supply open. The narcissist sees sex as a weapon, to get his narcissistic supply. He is pure evil.

The narcissist could be walking his dog and the dog accidently get hit by a car, and come home and have his family blame him for doing it deliberately, because he truly appears to not care. The only reason the narcissist would care is if the dog had been assisting in getting him narcissistic supply. The only reason a narcissist worries about catastrophe situations like being falsely blamed for his dog’s death, is because they have the potential to cost him sources of narcissistic supply.

The most naïve thing a narcissist can do is have children. Im lucky how aware I became of my condition before I made that mistake. As a narcissist, I hold my pride in avoiding young children as much as possible. If I ever got a woman pregnant, I would be doing the world a favor by not having anything to do with the child. I live in a world where nobody can do anything for this planet more deserving of a Nobel Prize than executing narcissists. If Psychiatrists truly understood narcissism, they would be putting more effort into eliminating this condition from the planet.

Like anywhere else, when the narcissist goes to therapy, he is only there to get narcissistic supply.  He sees it as a competitive sport. Nothing infuriates a narcissist more than the suggestion that he is curable, or that he is not a narcissist. Like other people im sure, in his mind, the narcissist knows that he knows more about his condition than the psychiatrist.

The narcissist is completely attached to the image that he projects to people, and firmly believes he is unique. Being told that you have never met anyone like him before (good or bad) is what the narcissist lives for. The only reason a narcissist feels pain is if he makes a mistake with the image that he projected, or from the loss of a narcissistic supply source. The narcissist can never get his needs met, he is always on a chase for more narcissistic supply. The narcissist never intends to behave in a way that would lose a supply source, but as a narcissist it is inevitable that it will happen. The only reason he would stop chasing narcissistic supply is to repair, or attempt to preserve the supply source.

The narcissist won’t kill himself. He enjoys idealising suicide, but in general his attempts will not succeed, because they were really just attempts to get narcissistic supply, and always subconsciously designed to fail. If he were to succeed, then it would always be seen in the narcissists mind as an accident. The narcissist is already dead, and without narcissistic supply, that’s how he feels. Personally, I don’t threaten to kill myself because I know I cant, however a narcissist will do such a thing in attempt to get narcissistic supply.

There are lots of narcissists out there. Some manage to stay clear, however you will meet plenty of them in jail. Whatever happened to the death penalty? By not getting rid of us you simply risk the chance of your children and grand children getting caught up with one of us. My description of humanity is that it is inhumane to make us live like this. If I were pulled out and saved from an earth quake ruble after a few days, I would be abusing the rescuing officers.  

Humans don’t, and can never feel compassion for a narcissist, otherwise they would have gotten rid of us long ago. There are narcissists out there being starved of narcissistic supply as we speak, and that will always be the future for some narcissists. The narcissist would never say such a thing to get sympathy, he’d say it because they are the people you’d want to watch out for. As always, the narcissist firmly believes he is helping others with what he does and says.

Right now I feel ok. Well narcissists don’t really have moods so I just say ok. Also, narcissists don’t kill themselves, and you will have to take my word for that. We may fantasise about it but wont do it. We can smoke, drive without a seat belt, swim when there is a shark sighting, but that’s about as close as we are going to get. If there is anybody reading this who has similar strategies to increase the chance of death, I would like to hear from them.
It has been made clear to me that even psychiatrists with their ph fuckin d’s and 30 years experience do not understand narcissism. I don’t expect them do. Narcissists who know they are narcissists know they are incurable. I will not have kids and if I ever got a woman pregnant I would have nothing to do with the child, for their own sake. All I want is a good Samaritan to put a bullet in my brain. Like I said, narcissists like to fantasise about death, but ill tell you 1 thing, I truly want it and that is not an attempt to seek attention.
There is no way I have any control over my mind and life, and I am firmly convinced that no one else does either. So if you have had a narcissist who has caused pain to your life and would like to seek revenge, then pick me. If you believe in karma, then this should appeal to you, because you are doing a good thing. I can give you my adress, however I would still beg for my life when you came to get me. You need to ignore this and continue doing what it was you came to do.

i am a narcissist
and i wont back down
you call it psychosis
but you're just a clown

30 years experience
real knowledge you lack
to narcissism ur delirious
but you're just a quack

fed me an anti psychotic
and blocked my supply
but because im robotic
i cannot even cry

im a fkn robot everyone. to the non narcissist, all i ask is a little faith that you accept the possibility that there may actually be robots on this earth. non humans - here to seek narcissistic supply (NS), to be admired, to boost technology on there fight for their NS, their need to be admired and adulated. no matter even if these psychiatrists tell you otherwise, you need to watch out for us robots. we require NS more than air and water. i accept the fact that people in psychosis dont know its psychosis, but believe me, there ARE robot/computer programmed narcissists on this earth.

It was at the get go;
he had you in awe,
little did you know;
you'd just declared war.

The writing was on the wall;
which you chose to ignore,
but you were having a ball;
unable to spot a flaw.

Six months later;
still trying to build rapport,
yet just a spectator;
who believed his guarantor.

It was all a scheme;
you'd begun to deplore,
but regarding self esteem;
it's he you would implore.

Learned how to roll white ox;
a requirement of the law,
wrote this wearing green socks;
from behind a prison door.

Facing reality;
letting the ICE thaw;
embracing individuality,
or circumvent it evermore.

born 1987, on the 13th of february
begun developing a coping strategy
the moon was full
black friday no bull
this kid had plans for grandiosity.

along came his brother Timothy
and his ego said focus on me
10 times cuter
programmed like a computer
capable of stealing all attention guilt free.

too far gone by the age of 3
mis diagnosed for having A.D.D.
need to be gratified
yet never quite satisfied
his true self already in a cemetry.