Dear Codependent Partner,
What I’m about to say is not somethingI’d ever say or admit (to you), because to do so would end thewinner-takes-all-gamethat is my main source of pleasure in life–one that effectively keeps you carrying my load in our relationship.
And that’s the whole point.
When I say I love you I mean that I love how hard you work to make me feel like your everything, that I am the focus of your life, that you want me to be happy, andthat I’ll never be expected to do the same.
I love the power I have to take advantage of your kindness and intentions to be nice, and the pleasure I derive when I make myself feel huge in comparison to you, takingevery opportunity tomakeyou feel small and insignificant. (Ifeel huge in comparison because, to me, these “desires” areevidence you’re weak, feeble in mind and inferior, and deserve to be treated accordingly!)
I love the feeling it gives me thinking of you as weak, vulnerable, emotionally crazy, and my biggest source of pleasure is having you to look down on with scorn because, in my view, your childlike desires, innocence and gullibility is what provesyour weakness and inferiority.
I love the way I feel knowing that, through the use ofgaslighting,and other mind-game tactics, what you want to discuss or address will never happen, and I love this “power”totrain you to feel “crazy” for even asking or bringing up issues that don’t interest me, effectively, everlowering your expectations of me and whatI’m capable ofgivingyou, while I up mine of you.
I love how easy it is to keepyour sole focus on alleviating my pain(never yours!), and that, regardless what you do, you’ll never make me feelgood enough, loved enough, respected enough, appreciated enough, and so on. (Misery loves company.)
(It’s not about thecloseness, empathy, emotional connection you want, or what I did that hurtor embarrassed you, orhow little time I spend engaged with you or the children, and so on. It’s about my status and doing my jobto keep you in your place,in pain, focused on feeling my pain, blockingyou from feeling valued in relation to me. I’m superior and entitled to all the pleasure, admiration, and comforting between us, remember?)
“I love you” means I love the way I feel when you are with me, more specifically, regarding you as a piece of property I own,my possession. Like driving a hot car, I love the extent to which you enhance my status in the eyes of others, letting them know that I’m top dog, and so on. I love thinking others are jealous of mypossessions.
I love the power I have to keep you workinghard to prove your love and devotion, wondering what else you need todo to “prove” your loyalty.
“I love you” means I love the way I feel when Im with you. Due tohow oftenI hate and look down onothers in general, the mirror neurons in my brain keep me constantly experiencing feelings of self-loathing;thus, I love that I can love myself through you, and also lovehating you for my”neediness” of havingto rely on you or anyone for anything.
I love that youarethere to blame whenever I feel this “neediness”; feeling scornfor you seems toprotect me from somethingI hate to admit, that I feeltotally dependenton you to “feed” my sense ofsuperiority and entitlement, and to keep my illusion of power alive in my mind.
(Nothing makes mefeel more fragile andvulnerable thannot havingcontrolover something that would tarnish myimage and superior status, such as when you question “how” I treatyou, as if you still don’t understandthat getting you to accept yourself as an object for my pleasure, happy regardless of how I treat you, or the children – is key proof of mysuperiority, to the world.You’re my possession, remember?It’s my job to teach you to hate and actcalloused toward those”crazy” things that only “weak” people need, such as “closeness” and “emotional stuff;” and by the way, I know this “works” because my childhood taught meto do this to myself inside.)
It makes me light up with pleasure(more proof of my superiority)that I can easilyget you flustered, make you act “crazy” over not getting what you want from me, make yourepeat yourself, and say and do things that you’ll later hate yourself for(because of your “niceness”!). Everything you say, anyhurts or complaints you share, you can be sure,I’lltaunt you with later, to keep you ever-spinning your wheels, ever trying to explain yourself,everdoubting yourself and confused,trying to figure out why I don’t “get” it.
(There’s nothing to get!To break the code, you’d have to look through my lens, not yours!It’s my job to show complete disinterest in your emotional needs, hurts, wants, and to train, dismissand punish accordingly,until youlearn your “lesson,”that is:To take your place as a voicelessobject,a possession hasnodesire exceptto serve my pleasure and comfort, and never anopinionon how it’streated!)
(That you can’t figure this out, after all the ways I’ve mistreated you, to me, is proof ofmy geneticsuperiority. In my playbook, those with superior genesare never kind, except to lure and snare their victims!)
I love that I can make you feel insecure at the drop of a hat, especially by giving attention to other women(perhapsalso others in general,friends,family members, children, etc.,the list is endless). What power this gives me to put on publicdisplays of what you don’t get from me, to tauntand makeyou beg for what I easily give to others, wonderingwhy it’s so easyto give what you want to others,to express feelingsoraffection, to givecompliments, that is, when it serves my pleasure (in this case, to watch you squirm).
I love the power I have to get you back whenever you threaten to leave, by throwing a few crumbs your way, and watchinghow quickly I can talk you into trusting mewhen I turn on the charm, deceiving you into thinking, this time,I’ll change.
“I love you” means I need you because, due to the self-loathing I carry inside,I need someonewho won’t abandon me that I can use as a punching bag, to make myself feel good by making them feel bad about themselves. (This is how I pleasure myself, and the way I numb, deny the scary feelings I carry inside thatI hope to never admit, ever. I hate any signs of weakness in me, which is why I hate you, and all the”nice” weaklingsI view asinferior, stupid, feeble, and so on.)
“I love you” means that I love fixing and shaping your thoughts and beliefs, being in control of your mind, so that you think of me asyour miracle and savior, asource of life and sustenanceyou depend on, andbouncing back to, like gravity, no matter how highyou try to fly away or jump.
I love that this makesme feellike a god, to keep youso focused (obsessed…) with making me feel worshiped and adored, sacrificing everything for me to prove yourself so that I don’t condemn or disapprove of you, seeking to please none other, and inherently, withsole rights to administerrewards and punishments as I please.
I love how I can use my power to keep you down,doubting and second-guessing yourself, questioning your sanity,obsessed with explaining yourself to me (and others), professing your loyalty, wondering what’s wrong with you (instead of realizing that … you cannot make someone “happy” who derives theirsense of power and pleasure from feeling scorn for the weaklings who let me take advantage of them… likeyou!).
“I love you” means I love the way I feel when I see myself through your admiring eyes,that youre my feel-good drug, mydedicated audience,my biggest fan and admirer, and so on. Training you tolook up to me, never question me, and bow down with pleasure to serve me asyour never-erring, omniscient, omnipotent source of knowledge is my end-goal — my drug of choice.
(You may have noticed how touchy I am at any signthat youwouldquestion me; I hate how fragile I feel in such moments,worried that failingto train you in silent submissioncould tarnish my image in the world, somethingI care about more than anything else, even life itself!)
And I love that, no matter how hard you beg and plead for my love and admiration, to feel valued in return, it won’t happen, as long as I’m in control. Why would I let it, when I’m hooked on deriving pleasure from depriving you of anything that would make you feel worthwhile, be wind beneath your wings,riskingyou’d fly away from me? Besides, itgives me great pleasure to not giveyou what youyearn for, the tenderness you need and want, and to burstyour every dream and bubble, then tellingmyself, “I’m nofool.”
I love that I can control your attempts to get “through” to me, by controlling your mind, in particular, by shifting thefocus of any “discussion” ontowhat is wrong with you,your failure to appreciate and make me feel loved, good enough, etc. — and of course, reminding you of all I’ve done for you, and howungrateful you are.
I love how skillfully I manipulateothers’ opinions of you as well, getting them to side with me as the “good” guy, and side against you as the “bad” guy, portraying you as incapable of making me happy or manly — or as needy, never satisfied, always complaining, selfish and controlling, and the like.
I love how easy it is for me to say “No!” towhat may give you credit, orincrease yoursense of valueand significancein relation tome, with endless excuses;and that instead, I returnyour focus tomy unfulfilled needs and wants, mydiscomforts or pain.
I love feeling that I own your thoughts, your ambitions, and ensuring the onlywants and needs you focus on are ones thatserve my pleasure and comfort.
I love being adrugof choice you “have to” have, regardless of how I mistreat you, despite allthe signs that your addiction to me is drainingthe energyfrom your life, and that you are at risk of losingmore and more of what you most value and hold dear, to include those you move love and love and support you in return.
I love that I can isolate you from others who may nourish you, andbreak the spell of thinking they ever loved you; I love making you mistrust them, so that you concludeno one else reallywants to put up with you, but me.
I love that I can make you feel I’m doing you a favor by being with you andthrowing a few crumbs your way. Like a vacuum, theemptiness inside me is in constant need of sucking the life and breath and vitality you, and your determination to be kind, brings to my life, which I crave like a drug that can never satisfy, that I fight to hoard, and hate the thought of sharing.
While I hate you and my addiction to your caring attention, my neediness keeps me craving to seemyself through your caring eyes, ever ready to admire, adore, forgive, make excuses for me,and fall for my lies and traps. (I could never appreciate or value you for this, how could I? I hate myself for needing these caring, yet unmanly gestures, which disgustme.)
I love that you keep telling me how much I hurt you, not knowing that, to me, this is like a freemarketingreport. Itlets me know how effective my tactics have been to keep you in pain, focused on alleviating my pain — so that I am ever the winner in this competition– ensuringthat younever weaken (control) me with your love- and emotional-closeness stuff.
In short, when I say “I love you,” I love the power I have to remain a mystery that youll never solve because of what you do not know (and refuse to believe), that: the only one who can win this zero-sum-winner-takes-all game is the one who knows “the rules.” My sense of power rests on ensuringyou never succeed at persuading me to joinyou in creating a mutually-kind relationship because, in my worldview,being vulnerable, emotionally expressive, kind, caring, empathetic, innocent are signs of weakness, proof of inferiority.
Thanks, but no thanks, I’m resolved tostay on my winner-takes-all ground, ever in competition for the prize, seeing you as my fiercest competitor, gloating in my narcissistic ability to be heartless, callous, cold, calculating … and proud, to ensure my neediness for a sense of superiority isn’t hampered.
PS: I really, really need help — but you CANNOTdo this work for me(notwithout making thingsworse for both of us!).Remember, we’reco-addicted to each other, sowe’dnevergo to an addict to get help, right?
Only a therapist with experience stands a chance to help me see and shift away from the self-destructive impact of my lust for — not only duping, conning, exploiting, abusing others — but also getting away with any wrongs by blaming, smearing, tearing down any victim or witness who tries to expose my psychopathic impulses; and even then, only ifI choose to really, really, really let him/her!(That’s because, in order to heal or let go of my false-self identity, I’d have toface my greatest fear that: not only am I not superior to those I regard as inferior,and thus not entitled to make and break rules as I please, but I’d also have to own the fact — thatmy own actions, disordered thoughts andbeliefs about myself and others –areTHE main cause of the suffering in my life …and changing them, THEsolution. I could not would not ever want to do this! From my worldview, this is giving up, losing, and what “losers” and feeble-minded “empaths” and other weaklings who can easily be conned do! Never winners or the strong! Death is better than losing, giving up my false-self identity and worldview.)
NOTE: If you have a story of healing to share, Dr. Staik would like to include it infull or in partial form in herbook (anonymously, of course). For more details, pleasevisit Dr. Staik’s new Facebook fan page, When a Narcissist Says ‘I Love You’ … and send heryour stories to share and inspire others to take action to heal. Thank you!