The Black Garden

So, it's pretty much exactly what it says on the tin.

Some basic facts to get down:

1. We are a diagnosed narcissist.

2. We will happily go out of our way to help others in need.

For someone who has never met a narcissist, that might sound weird. Ain't we all supposed to be self absorbed and only out for number one? Well, kinda. But it's a lot more complicated.

So to understand us, you need to understand narcissistic supply.

In simple terms, narcissists need a thing called “supply”. Supply is attention, admiration, or validation that we crave and to maintain their self-esteem. It's probably the most important thing for us to have a lot.

There's a few ways to get supply, but they all boil down to constructive or destructive sourcing.

Destructive sourcing is what the media portrays as “The big scary narcissist” who brings down everyone around them to make themselves feel better.

1. We hate that depiction, because it paints us all as evil and full of hate

2. It's the quickest way to score supply, you get massive amounts of supply, and it's easy

3. It's also extremely unsustainable

Overall, destructive sourcing is not a great option. So let's look at constructive sourcing.

Constructive sourcing is all about helping others. It's about building others up in a way that people notice and thank you. There's a whole thing people are obsessed with about “doing the right thing for the right reasons”. We have never understood that well. It doesn't matter why we are doing the right thing, as long as people are getting helped.

So how does one go about “constructive sourcing”? We are gonna talk about our own experience, but we used to be a caregiver for disabled adults. We would go to people's homes, and help them live as independently as possible. It was a job that paid the bills, but also allowed us to get showered in praise and love. That was the real reason we loved the job, we felt like a guardian angel for others and we got to see how people would call us a hero.

So can people leave off all the stigma and hate of people with NPD, and just ask your local narcissist to help? Most of us are more than happy to!

Is that the “right” reason for helping? Probably not. But we're people who needed help to do things like just leave bed getting helped? Absolutely.

We call it our "Selfless Selfishness".

Because helping others helps us because of these simple facts

1. We are a part of the world

2. When people's lives improve, the whole world improves overall by increasing the amount of good in the world

3. Helping others improves lives.

Ergo

- When we help others, it helps improve people's lives, improving the world and therefore helping ourselves.

The ring itself was not famous, not made of pure gold and set with a diamond. It was an ordinary ring that was shaped like a snake. With gold metal and black accents, it coiled around the finger and looked rather nice. However this ring wasn't quite normal. It was missing an eye. The owner of the ring took notice of this flaw and just as the ring was finally feeling happy about having an owner that wanted it, it was cast aside.

This made the ring understandably sad and it sat in a donation bin for months. Surrounded by other things that had been cast aside. The ring started to wonder, if it had any value to anyone. The constant shifting of the contents of the bin caused it to have some of the gemstones that once adorned it fall off, the gold plating rub off exposing the cheap steel underneath, the black lacquer fading away. The ring thought "This is the perfect fate for a being that was made broken".

Then a doll stumbled upon the ring and it took a good hard look at it. The doll observered the faded lacquer, the missing stones, and the exposed steel and declared that this ring is perfect. The ring, taken aback, tried to tell the doll all of its flaws.

"You can see my steel"

"I am missing gemstones"

"My laquer is faded"

The doll simply looked at the ring and smiled.

I am well aware of the traits you see as flaws. The golden coat peeled back to expose your true self, the black lacquer faded away to allow the craftsmanship of your body to be seen, the gems that are no longer there to make you unique. I see all these traits and I ask you a simple question. "Do I look Broken beyond repair?"

The ring looked at the doll and was able to see no discernable flaw, the porcelain skin seemed to be in perfect order, the painted features are intact, everything seemed to move and click with perfect timing. The ring replied "No, I see no flaw with you. So I ask again, why do you want a flawed thing like me?"

The doll chuckled and opened it's chest to reveal a rough patchwork of gears and wires. Clear signs that the doll had been taken apart and put back together piecemeal several times. Seeing this the ring finally understood what the doll was trying to get at, and the ring said one thing. "I never had my right eye, so unlike you who was originally whole I have never been". The doll smiled and asked if the left eye was any good. The ring said yes, and as soon as it did the doll slipped it on its finger and said "Good, I have a bad leg on my left side. I promise to always keep an eye out to keep you safe on my right, as long as you help out on the left."

The ring relaxed. Feeling that it finally found a being that understood and would keep it safe. Forever

Something that was originally whole and natural. Yet by human hands, something that was shattered and piecemeal reforged into a facsimile of the original gemstone. With all the jagged edges and misplaced pieces causing unnatural patterns of light that open the door for brand new possibilities.

Nestled safely in the warm earth, content and happy being surrounded by the rhythms and flows of nature. Content in being part of the world. Ripped from your home and taken to a strange place made of metal and concrete, cold and unfeeling. No longer able to feel the rhythm that brought you comfort, forced to exist disconnected from the world you know. Being stripped of your natural form by hammers, belts and chisels. Forced into prisons of hooks and frames to be turned into an object that is valued by the world. No longer being valuable as what you are, but only having value for what you have been turned into. Crying out in mourning for the loss of your true self.

Forced to live in this metal prison, day in and day out hearing the inane chatter of this unnatural world. Being taken around and shown off as some kind of prize for the masses to gawk at. Being allowed glimpses of the natural world that you once belonged to being the cruellest moments of your life, because it allows you to remember how amazingly peaceful the natural world is, and with it being so close you get the faintest hope to be able to return to your home. As quickly as that hope is given to you it is ripped away as instead of the sun you are forced into a small box full of an unnatural buzzing sound and harsh white light before being shoved into another tinier box that is so close to being the home that you once knew yet the constant reminder of the hooks and frames prevents you from ever being able to call this place home.

Time goes by as you slowly forget about your natural home, not because you cannot remember but you choose not to remember. The memory of your former home brings nothing but pain as you struggle to accept your new situation. Days turning into months, turning into years as over time the bright shine that you once held slowly begins to dim and tarnish over the years of neglect. As your luster fades the hooks and frames start to tarnish and loosen. It is funny in a cruel way having the bonds that once held you only start to loosen once you have lost your use. Still you are forced to endure the same cruel and unnatural world that you are used to even as you fade and are taken out less and less often, no longer considered something of as much value as you were when they stole you from your home.

One day you were being taken on the cruellest path that your owner could take you on, along the river, so close to your old home, yet this day was different from the normal day to day of longing for your home. The chain, long abused by the same disregard and neglect that you are used to, snapped causing you to fall to the ground and shatter on the rocks that line the river. The shattering was a mixture of a relief that you are free from the concrete hell that has bound you for the past years, and a massive sense of pain and emptiness knowing that you are no longer whole.

Being a fragment, you start to believe that you are of no value. Something broken and useless to the world. A broken gem is of no use as a display piece, no longer fitting in those metal hooks and frames. Yet this brings you comfort. You are of no more value, and that means that you are free of the bondage that once held you and you will never be put in that bondage again.

More time passes and something unexpected happens. A small child has stumbled upon you. This child, so pure and innocent picks you up and gives you a look. Instead of pity or distaste upon seeing a worthless fragment of a broken gem, the child's face is full of wonder and possibility. Instead of the sharp pains that were caused by the tools that forced you into a shape that could be caged, this child just takes you as you are and you see that this child has found a number of other fragments. Other gems that were once whole, stolen form their home, reshaped, and over years of abuse and neglect have been forgotten about and eventually shattered. This child has collected what the world has deemed as worthless and instead of the harsh metals hooks and frames of your past takes you and with a soft strand of grass, binds you together with the other fragments and with tender and kind hands sets you afloat into the river.

For years and years it served its purpose to take the hits and protect others by giving of itself. But over time the damage accrued and the armour kept doing the singular task that it was designed for. As the damage increased it caused the owner to wear it less and less. Eventually the owner stopped wearing the armour at all and it was eventually forgotten about. Tucked away in the corner of the attic and left to rust, a tool that was no longer able to serve its purpose. For the first time the armour felt alone. It no longer has the warmth that it once had when its owner would wear it. It felt cold. And for the first time it questioned what it was supposed to do and was unable to find an answer.

The years passed and the armour grew despondent and cold. The owner having completely forgotten about it and moved on with their life. Eventually the armour tried several times to dismantle itself and sink into the darkness to be no more.

One day when the armour was at its lowest, it tried to dismantle itself one last time and succeeded. The armour was surprised that this was not the sweet release that it dreamed of, but something new entirely. By being able to break itself apart from the form forced upon it the armour wondered if it could also make itself anew. It knew that it could never be the rock again, but it could reshaped what it was turned into. This idea was a seed, and seeds of course grow.

The bits and pieces of the once armour threw itself into the nearby woods and began to mimic what it saw. It recognized that it was different from the lush vegetation surrounding it, but that gave it a comfort. No longer was it something that was meant to be, it was something that just is. It took it upon itself to gather the broken links and scales and form something to help be the center of the new life it made for itself. A simple tree, more specifically a willow tree where it was allowed to just sway in the wind and just be.

Content with just being, someone came up to this new found metalic tree and asked it if they could sit underneath it. The tree didn't know how to speak so it made a serpent that would be able to speak for it. It also was confused because this is the first time someone had asked if it minded being used. The tree was curious so it let the strange person sit underneath and they seemed happy. The tree asked why, and was surprised that they were glad to be protected from the sun.

Protecting without incurring harm? Is this even possible?

With this thought in mind the tree made several more beings to help serve and protect the tree. Not with violence or sacrifice, but with kindness and care. The Angel, The Boar, The Mermaid, The Dragon, The Doll, The Ash, The Serpent.