People are inherently self-centered.
Everyone is the center of their own world, even if to varying degrees; they wish to be heard and seen, whether by one person or a thousand. Some seek love and comfort, while others seek fame and adoration. Regardless of what form it comes in, everyone wants to be acknowledged, and everyone is wary of or influenced by the attention and opinions of others.
We spend time every morning making ourselves presentable; we style our hair, pick an appropriate outfit, and maintain proper hygiene to avoid smelling or appearing unpleasant. We’re aware, even if on a subconscious level, of how other people view us, and it leads us to develop ourselves in an appealing way for others. No one wants to go out in public with nasty hair or a foul odor. We want to give others a positive impression of us, even if our encounters are momentary and fleeting.
For most people, that’s where their focus on their image ends—they’ve made themselves presentable. Now, they can focus on work, school, or any other responsibilities for the day. But for some, that morning routine was only the beginning. As they move through their day, their minds focus not on their work or errands, but themselves.
A few people stared at me. Am I walking weird? Can they tell that I rushed my routine this morning? What if I smell? Their eyes dart across their surroundings, anxiety pulsing in their chests. Is there something wrong with my outfit? I knew I shouldn’t have worn this shirt. I should change—do I have time to go home and change?
They spend every moment in public stuck in their own minds. They hyperfocus on how others perceive them. If they hear a laugh from someone passing by, they assume it was directed at them. Hushed whispers from two friends nearby must be gossip about their outfit or appearance. Glances from others that linger a few seconds too long must be judging the way they walk or stand. Because their internal world is so centered around themselves, their perception of reality is skewed, leading them to see the actions or words of others directed always towards themselves. They’re terrified of how others view them, oblivious to the fact that the large majority of the people they’ve encountered hadn’t even noticed them at all. They don’t understand that they’re merely a passing face, blurred and unremarkable. People must be noticing them, judging them, laughing at them; they wish they were completely invisible, unaware that, to most people, they essentially are. They live each moment trapped in a hurricane of self-doubt and insecurity, too swept up into their own minds to ground themselves in the reality of the moment.
It’s undoubtedly a stressful way to live, plagued by anxiety and paranoia. It’s also an extremely narcissistic one.
I am a narcissist myself, down to my core—I lack empathy and thrive on attention. The way I view the world is simultaneously the same and the complete opposite of those described previously. When I’m out in public, my thoughts also focus on myself. I pay special attention to my expression, my posture, the way I walk, and much more. I’m hyperaware of the people around me, while also pretending not to be. I stare straight ahead and avoid eye contact to give people the chance to stare as I pass by. After all, why wouldn’t they?
Just as those plagued by the constant fear of negative attention, I expect that everyone will look at me, perceive me, wonder about me, and even continue to think about me when I’m gone. My world centers around me. The only difference between me and those with severe forms of social anxiety is our interpretation of the attention we receive. Their thoughts are as devastating as a hurricane, sweeping them away from the reality of the ground beneath their feet, leaving them unable to see the truth of the world around them. My thoughts are as gentle as a cloud, carrying me as high as my lofty ego until I’m blinded by the sun of my own perceived brilliance—too blinded to see the ground far below, where everyone else is. Even if our minds arrive at opposite destinations, we’re both still just as far from the ground, too high on delusion to view reality objectively.
Of course those with social anxiety are treated with much more empathy than narcissists like me, even if we’re two sides of the same coin. If a friend of yours was too nervous to go out in public because they were terrified of everyone judging or laughing at them, you would comfort them. However, if another friend told you they believed everyone was watching them with envy and awe, you’d laugh in their face. You wouldn’t say, “who do you think you are? Get over yourself,” to your first friend, and you wouldn’t simply say, “that’s probably not true,” with love and compassion to your second. The fact of the matter is, both parties are entirely deluded, and the only way to help them grow or change is to hit them with the harsh reality.
A person who’s overly paranoid about the attention of strangers cannot be helped with gentle words of reassurance. You can’t coo overly saccharine compliments at them and expect that their fears will vanish. If a gentle parenting approach wouldn’t work on a narcissist, it certainly won’t work on the anxious. The only way to help is to be firm and ground your words in reality. They need to hear things like “get over yourself,” and “you’re not that important,” because when they’re trapped in that hurricane, they can’t see the world the way normal people see it. They need to view the world around them as more than just themselves. Once they begin to perceive more and more of their surroundings from the perspectives of others, the eye of that hurricane will expand until the winds die off into a gentle, spring breeze, finally allowing them to open their eyes and land back on the ground.
It may sound cruel to say things like “get over yourself” to someone struggling with severe self-doubt, and perhaps it is. But the only way to bring back someone that far removed from reality is to drag them by force. If you try to lead them gently by the hand, they’ll never budge, and you’ll be stuck there too, constantly having to comfort them from the storm around them. It won’t be long until those winds begin to chill you, too.
I was once entirely oblivious to the world around me. I couldn’t speak to anyone properly, and I couldn’t function like a normal person. I spent most of my childhood entirely withdrawn from my peers because no one knew how to deal with me. I was forgiven too many times, no matter how bad my behavior or attitude became, which only enabled me to get worse. People wanted to be patient with me, so I could learn. It never worked.
The only thing that helped me was a very sudden, jarring, and sobering dose of reality. It was like someone had popped the cloud from right underneath me, and I crashed back down to earth, hitting the ground so hard it took me years to recover. But in the end, I survived, and I was finally able to see the world around me—I’d made it back to the ground with everyone else.
At the end of the day, whether we’re insufferably stuck-up or horribly insecure, we’re both narcissists. But the self-centered are not completely hopeless. We can be brought back down to earth; after all, no storm lasts forever. One day, that cloud will evaporate, and that hurricane will dissipate. You just have to be there to catch us when we finally fall.
Image via Freerange
