Dealing with an emotionally unavailable partner

rapidmaker15 said:Thanks for the comment; you summarized that really well. I wouldn't exactly say I didn't love my parents, it's more that I never really connected with them—deeply, anyway. Why? It's hard to pin down. They are good people, especially my dad, but we never really expressed any emotion, even though I know they're there if I ever actually need them. Maybe that's where the issue lies?

I do want emotions in my life; I just don't know how to "make" them happen.

And as for why I don't like being hugged or kissed or touched—it’s because I feel like people are invading my privacy, especially when it’s uninvited, if that makes sense. I just get uncomfortable when someone holds my hand or even stands too close; I feel much safer maintaining some distance. Is it possible that this is why I struggle to connect with a partner?

I’m actually a guy... but let’s face it, society makes it much more acceptable for women to be emotional. For men, there's this huge pressure to stay cool and detached. Women are allowed to cry, have outbursts, be moody, or go through all those highs and lows... guys aren't really given that kind of leeway.
So, seeing a woman who is super guarded with her feelings is pretty rare.

So, you realize you didn't get that emotional foundation from your parents, which leaves your emotions feeling kind of stunted—mostly just black and white, like happy or sad. I've asked you a lot of questions, but you've been pretty quiet... Are you scared to dive in, or maybe just embarrassed to say it?

You can't really sustain a relationship like this because there's no core substance or "emotional glue" holding it together. After sex, you probably just feel this urge to get up and leave the partner... intimacy feels irritating, almost uncomfortable, so you end up sending texts saying you don't care or you don't need them around. Long-term, that's basically a recipe for disaster.
Real relationships exist so we can actually strip away the layers in front of someone we trust—to finally be our authentic selves, to express passion, spontaneity, and fun, and to feel accepted even in our most vulnerable moments.

Think back—how did your parents react when you were a kid and feeling down? Would they have gone cold or distant? Did they push you away or fail to understand you? Would they have even scolded you for being upset or crying?
Did they ever leave you alone to the point where you were terrified they wouldn't come back? How did that feel...? Or did you have to step up and take care of a sibling or some other family member, basically forcing you to grow up way too fast?

Some people can dive straight into their traumas and remember everything, while others just suppress it all and end up with nothing but a vague, blurry memory of their parents without any specific details...

If you actually want to work on your emotional side, you have to *want* to do it. You have to lean into those feelings and memories and slowly untangle them. A partner isn't going to fix this for you—in fact, they might make it harder by putting pressure on you, which just makes you feel worse and causes you to shut down even more out of fear of criticism or losing the relationship...

My advice? Talk to a professional. I get the impression you won't let anyone—including yourself—get too close to the real you. You've decided to build these walls, you can see that something is missing in your connections, but since you don't see a way out, the idea of ending up alone just fuels more anxiety.

rapidmaker15 said:Look, I’d like to think of myself as a pretty level-headed and rational person—I can usually tell when my actions actually make sense and when they don't. When I step outside those boundaries or act on impulse, I’m fully aware of the fallout.
I realize that if I can't actually bond with someone or just let my emotions take the wheel, I’ll probably end up alone. And honestly? That’s exactly what I’m trying to fix. I don't quite get why it works this way, but I recognize it’s an issue I need to tackle. I don't want to be solo. I hate being alone. If I stay home by myself for even two days, I start spiraling into this depressive, miserable headspace. I really, truly need people around me. So, I don't understand how it's possible that I struggle to connect with guys—or anyone, really. Where did all those feelings go, and how am I supposed to just "manufacture" them? I’d honestly settle for a messy, unhappy relationship at this point; even sadness is a feeling, and I just want to feel *something*.
I guess I'm just getting tangled up in my own explanation.

You aren't rambling.
You hate being alone because being alone means facing yourself. Most people are like that.
Those existential encounters trigger a totally valid kind of fear.
I've written a ton about loneliness.
Loneliness is really just a measure of volume. It defines how much of "us" there is. How much of us is missing.

That’s why you need others. Because there isn't enough of you right now. And you know it. You're smart—I can tell from the way you phrase things. But that's also your blessing, because intelligence is the only way to actually reach fulfillment. To find a meaningful self. And you're only truly meaningful when you stop fearing those existential confrontations. When answers to those deep questions don't give you that famous nausea that some smart guy in Paris used to talk about after hanging out with his girlfriend... maybe for similar reasons as why you started this thread.

Everything you wrote about yourself basically ties back to your social and family conditioning. Whatever the reason, it never taught you—or showed you—how to actually reach your true self.
Reaching yourself only happens through gentleness and being real with yourself. But you're harsh. That toughness shows up in your writing style, too. Your roughness is both structural and learned, but it's uniquely yours. Like some unwanted gift from fate.

You hit the nail on the head noticing that stripping down isn't necessarily intimate. That's just standard societal chatter. True intimacy is actually about reaching that core.
You asked the right question, even if it was a bit shaky since it's built on some fuzzy premises. I mean that part in bold italics.
Emotions and logic work together as one force. They aren't opposites. The moment you're rational, you're emotional too. And vice versa. That’s pretty much the current neuroscience paradigm anyway.

I just want to say you're right. Emotions are created through believing in yourself, not through feeling like you lack yourself... which is clearly what you're feeling right now.

[QUOTE=Donna White50;81868107]
Relationships just can't hold up if there’s no core substance or emotional glue holding them together. Once the physical side is over, you just feel this urge to get up and leave—any kind of tenderness actually feels irritating, almost uncomfortable, so you end up sending signals to your partner that you don't love them, you don't need them, or you just don't want them near you. Long-term? That’s basically a blueprint for a total disaster.
Real connections exist so you can actually strip away the layers in front of someone you trust—so you can finally be your authentic self, express emotions, passion, spontaneity, and just have fun, knowing you're accepted for exactly who you are, even at your most vulnerable. [quote/]

- I agree, that's pretty much spot on.

[QUOTE=Donna White50;81868107]
How would your parents have reacted back when you were a kid and feeling sad? Would they have been cold and distant, pushing you away? Would they have failed to understand you, or maybe even scolded you just because you were struggling or crying?
Did they leave you alone to the point where you were terrified about when they’d come home—or if they’d even show up at all? How did that feel at the time...? Did you have to take on the responsibility of looking after a sibling or some other family member, essentially being forced to grow up way too fast?
Some people can dive straight into those traumas and remember everything, while others suppress it all and remember nothing—they might recall the general outline of their parents, but none of the specific moments... [QUOTE/]

I don't really recall many instances where I was visibly sad, or if I was, I certainly don't remember how my parents reacted. I think I mostly kept my sadness "inside" rather than showing it outwardly. I was quite alone for a lot of it, I guess, but I don't really have a memory of how that felt. Generally speaking, I remember very little about my childhood—and specifically, I can't conjure up any feelings from that era, even if I did have them.
. I have a sister, and she's the one I'm closest to.[/QUOTE][/QUOTE]

Nancy Lee84 said:You aren't rambling.
You hate being alone because being alone means facing yourself. Most people are like that.
Those existential encounters trigger a totally valid kind of fear.
I've written a ton about loneliness.
Loneliness is really just a measure of volume. It defines how much of "us" there is. How much of us is missing.

That’s why you need others. Because there isn't enough of you right now. And you know it. You're smart—I can tell from the way you phrase things. But that's also your blessing, because intelligence is the only way to actually reach fulfillment. To find a meaningful self. And you're only truly meaningful when you stop fearing those existential confrontations. When answers to those deep questions don't give you that famous nausea that some smart guy in Paris used to talk about after hanging out with his girlfriend... maybe for similar reasons as why you started this thread.

Everything you wrote about yourself basically ties back to your social and family conditioning. Whatever the reason, it never taught you—or showed you—how to actually reach your true self.
Reaching yourself only happens through gentleness and being real with yourself. But you're harsh. That toughness shows up in your writing style, too. Your roughness is both structural and learned, but it's uniquely yours. Like some unwanted gift from fate.

You hit the nail on the head noticing that stripping down isn't necessarily intimate. That's just standard societal chatter. True intimacy is actually about reaching that core.
You asked the right question, even if it was a bit shaky since it's built on some fuzzy premises. I mean that part in bold italics.
Emotions and logic work together as one force. They aren't opposites. The moment you're rational, you're emotional too. And vice versa. That’s pretty much the current neuroscience paradigm anyway.

I just want to say you're right. Emotions are created through believing in yourself, not through feeling like you lack yourself... which is clearly what you're feeling right now.

For as long as I can remember, I haven't really been an emotional person, but as I get older, it feels like that gap is just widening. Honestly, I’m scared of having kids because I doubt I could provide enough love or closeness? I feel like I wouldn't be able to truly connect with them. Maybe I'll just end up alone. And honestly, maybe that’s for the best. It’s incredibly hard to do the work and change who you are once you're an adult and already set in your ways—especially when life is already so busy with everything else.

Thanks to everyone for the comments and advice.

rapidmaker15 said:

How much of this description resonates with you?

The one asking the questions is the one driving the conversation, effectively seizing the upper hand. Narcissists have this pathological need to micromanage every single interaction—they must dominate both themselves and everyone else—which is precisely why they suppress any semblance of true emotion; they are deathly afraid of being vulnerable or showing their soul to anyone.

Don't even think about sitting there expecting an actual answer from them.
They’re the ones doing all the interrogating! 🙂

briskpuma6 said:The one asking the questions is the one driving the conversation, effectively seizing the upper hand. Narcissists have this pathological need to micromanage every single interaction—they must dominate both themselves and everyone else—which is precisely why they suppress any semblance of true emotion; they are deathly afraid of being vulnerable or showing their soul to anyone.

Don't even think about sitting there expecting an actual answer from them.
They’re the ones doing all the interrogating! 🙂

I know this guy from my support group who is just completely disconnected from his own feelings. He's a decent enough dude—has a job, plays in a band, hangs out with people, life is going fine—but he can't remember anything about his childhood and isn't even capable of digging into his own emotions. It’s like he’s just handicapped in that department. That whole side of his personality doesn't even seem to exist. And no, he's not a narcissist, he just... literally doesn't have the vocabulary for emotional stuff.
Some people just disconnect and repress parts of themselves for all sorts of reasons—it doesn't always have to be some massive trauma, you know? They just operate that way.

Narcissists, though... they're such incredibly narrow-minded people, it almost makes you feel bad for them. Their fragile egos are so hyper-focused on maintaining this fake image of superiority that their constant ego bruises, their sensitivity to any criticism, and that obsession with status and rigid little rituals... it’s almost laughable. They're like parrots in a gilded cage, constantly repeating "I'm the best, I'm irresistible, tell me I'm amazing..." over and over.

Quincy:

I don't really recall many instances where I felt genuinely sad, or if I did, I can't quite remember how people reacted. It feels more like I was just carrying sadness "inside" rather than actually showing it to anyone. I was pretty much on my own most of the time, but I honestly can't say how that felt at the moment. My childhood memories are mostly a blur anyway; I struggle to pin down any specific emotions from back then, even if they were there. I have a sister, though, and she’s probably the one person I feel closest to.

But where were your parents when they saw you withdrawing like that? They should have stepped in during those critical developmental stages—guiding you, encouraging you, maybe even taking you to see a school counselor or a child psychologist.

A parent's job isn't just about putting food on the table, keeping you clothed, and making sure you have a roof over your head. That's the bare minimum. Their role is much broader: teaching you how to navigate life, fostering independence, helping you socialize, and teaching you how to recognize and express emotions. They're supposed to be there to guide you and, more importantly, to react when something deviates significantly from the norm. Because they are the parents, they aren't just encouraged to flag developmental or behavioral issues early on—they are obligated to. They need to act when things look off.

From what you've said, it sounds to me like you might have been "invisible." Everything seemed to be going smoothly enough; you weren't causing trouble, and nobody was having problems with you, so I guess no one bothered to check in on your emotional state—or lack thereof. And so, time just slipped by. 🤷 (If you had been a handful or if someone else had been struggling because of you, things would have gone differently, believe me. 😁)

The reason I'm bringing this up is that certain things can only be learned or internalized during specific developmental windows in childhood. If you miss those windows or if no one reacts in time... well, the ship has sailed. Of course, therapy still has value; you can learn things through an adaptive model, essentially treating them as coping skills. But it's hard for those things to ever become a truly authentic part of who you are.

I suspect you could still practice being close to people—you know, things like holding hands or physical affection—just to give them what they need, or perhaps just providing the bare minimum so they'll stay near you. But at this stage of your life, after following that particular developmental path, it's unlikely to become an innate part of your personality. You'll probably always feel some level of discomfort during intimate contact. To actually get close and connect with others, you’d have to consciously push past a part of yourself. In the long run, that is incredibly, incredibly difficult. (Do you actually want that? I sometimes wonder if human connections are overrated, though that's probably because, unlike you, I find myself enjoying solitude more and more as I get older.)

So, I can't help but wonder: where was everyone all this time when it came to seeking help?

Donna White50 said:I know this guy from my support group who is just completely disconnected from his own feelings. He's a decent enough dude—has a job, plays in a band, hangs out with people, life is going fine—but he can't remember anything about his childhood and isn't even capable of digging into his own emotions. It’s like he’s just handicapped in that department. That whole side of his personality doesn't even seem to exist. And no, he's not a narcissist, he just... literally doesn't have the vocabulary for emotional stuff.
Some people just disconnect and repress parts of themselves for all sorts of reasons—it doesn't always have to be some massive trauma, you know? They just operate that way.

Narcissists, though... they're such incredibly narrow-minded people, it almost makes you feel bad for them. Their fragile egos are so hyper-focused on maintaining this fake image of superiority that their constant ego bruises, their sensitivity to any criticism, and that obsession with status and rigid little rituals... it’s almost laughable. They're like parrots in a gilded cage, constantly repeating "I'm the best, I'm irresistible, tell me I'm amazing..." over and over.

I see what you're getting at here: if they aren't malignant narcissists, then they're fine, right? Well, not quite.
Narcissists can't stomach two things: questions and solitude. Why? It's simple: because in both scenarios, they are forced to confront themselves. They encounter the one thing they fear most: their own being. They find endless ways to evade this—work, social circles, hobbies, personal grooming... anything to avoid being alone with themselves.

Because when you are truly alone, whether we like it or not, the feelings start leaking out; you stop looking outward and start looking inward. And inside, there are heavy traumas lurking. Some actually hear the sounds of a small child crying and wailing; some experience hallucinations of people standing before them, laughing and watching; some feel nothing but pure terror; some start trembling and spiral into panic; in others, a sudden, inexplicable rage erupts out of nowhere. In milder cases, they just end up restless and moody.

That is a terrifying prospect for anyone, let alone someone who has absolutely no concept of how to process emotions! This is why they are constantly hunting for new crowds, new faces, new challenges, and new thrills. When that isn't enough or doesn't come naturally, they begin to lie and manipulate just to stay included. The distinction between "benign" narcissists (those you'd call "okay") and the malignant ones (who lie and manipulate) is often just a matter of circumstance, timing, and the sheer intensity of what they feel when they are alone. Since they lack—or rather, have suppressed—emotional depth, they also lack a sense of guilt. Consequently, the slide from a benign state to a malignant one is a very short one indeed.

We could go on about this forever, and one post isn't nearly enough, but it's worth adding that they are notoriously difficult to treat precisely because they cannot tolerate the very questions that might lead them toward deep psychosis. Most therapists won't take on that kind of responsibility, so treatment drags on for years and rarely results in a cure. However, those few therapists with more courage sometimes manage to make headway. Regressive hypnosis can be an effective route in these cases—it essentially bypasses the patient's defenses, working without the interference of their conscious questioning.

briskpuma6 said:I see what you're getting at here: if they aren't malignant narcissists, then they're fine, right? Well, not quite.
Narcissists can't stomach two things: questions and solitude. Why? It's simple: because in both scenarios, they are forced to confront themselves. They encounter the one thing they fear most: their own being. They find endless ways to evade this—work, social circles, hobbies, personal grooming... anything to avoid being alone with themselves.

Because when you are truly alone, whether we like it or not, the feelings start leaking out; you stop looking outward and start looking inward. And inside, there are heavy traumas lurking. Some actually hear the sounds of a small child crying and wailing; some experience hallucinations of people standing before them, laughing and watching; some feel nothing but pure terror; some start trembling and spiral into panic; in others, a sudden, inexplicable rage erupts out of nowhere. In milder cases, they just end up restless and moody.

That is a terrifying prospect for anyone, let alone someone who has absolutely no concept of how to process emotions! This is why they are constantly hunting for new crowds, new faces, new challenges, and new thrills. When that isn't enough or doesn't come naturally, they begin to lie and manipulate just to stay included. The distinction between "benign" narcissists (those you'd call "okay") and the malignant ones (who lie and manipulate) is often just a matter of circumstance, timing, and the sheer intensity of what they feel when they are alone. Since they lack—or rather, have suppressed—emotional depth, they also lack a sense of guilt. Consequently, the slide from a benign state to a malignant one is a very short one indeed.

We could go on about this forever, and one post isn't nearly enough, but it's worth adding that they are notoriously difficult to treat precisely because they cannot tolerate the very questions that might lead them toward deep psychosis. Most therapists won't take on that kind of responsibility, so treatment drags on for years and rarely results in a cure. However, those few therapists with more courage sometimes manage to make headway. Regressive hypnosis can be an effective route in these cases—it essentially bypasses the patient's defenses, working without the interference of their conscious questioning.

I'm totally with you on everything you said. When dealing with a narcissist, the main thing is recognizing what you're up against and setting boundaries, regardless of what "flavor" they are. Once you see through it, you're basically just watching a theater production of their distorted reality... and you just want to walk away because you know they don't have the capacity to change—they're likely wired that way for life.
As for psychiatrists, it's widely known that trying to "cure" them is like a Sisyphus task, so they usually just get prescribed meds to help them ride out the crisis.

😵

Joseph Bailey41 said:

How much of this description resonates with you?
How much of this description resonates with you?
Not entirely—maybe just bits and pieces, specifically under section 1, parts 2, 5, and 9.

Andrew Barrett4 said:Quincy:

I don't really recall many instances where I felt genuinely sad, or if I did, I can't quite remember how people reacted. It feels more like I was just carrying sadness "inside" rather than actually showing it to anyone. I was pretty much on my own most of the time, but I honestly can't say how that felt at the moment. My childhood memories are mostly a blur anyway; I struggle to pin down any specific emotions from back then, even if they were there. I have a sister, though, and she’s probably the one person I feel closest to.

But where were your parents when they saw you withdrawing like that? They should have stepped in during those critical developmental stages—guiding you, encouraging you, maybe even taking you to see a school counselor or a child psychologist.

A parent's job isn't just about putting food on the table, keeping you clothed, and making sure you have a roof over your head. That's the bare minimum. Their role is much broader: teaching you how to navigate life, fostering independence, helping you socialize, and teaching you how to recognize and express emotions. They're supposed to be there to guide you and, more importantly, to react when something deviates significantly from the norm. Because they are the parents, they aren't just encouraged to flag developmental or behavioral issues early on—they are obligated to. They need to act when things look off.

From what you've said, it sounds to me like you might have been "invisible." Everything seemed to be going smoothly enough; you weren't causing trouble, and nobody was having problems with you, so I guess no one bothered to check in on your emotional state—or lack thereof. And so, time just slipped by. 🤷 (If you had been a handful or if someone else had been struggling because of you, things would have gone differently, believe me. 😁)

The reason I'm bringing this up is that certain things can only be learned or internalized during specific developmental windows in childhood. If you miss those windows or if no one reacts in time... well, the ship has sailed. Of course, therapy still has value; you can learn things through an adaptive model, essentially treating them as coping skills. But it's hard for those things to ever become a truly authentic part of who you are.

I suspect you could still practice being close to people—you know, things like holding hands or physical affection—just to give them what they need, or perhaps just providing the bare minimum so they'll stay near you. But at this stage of your life, after following that particular developmental path, it's unlikely to become an innate part of your personality. You'll probably always feel some level of discomfort during intimate contact. To actually get close and connect with others, you’d have to consciously push past a part of yourself. In the long run, that is incredibly, incredibly difficult. (Do you actually want that? I sometimes wonder if human connections are overrated, though that's probably because, unlike you, I find myself enjoying solitude more and more as I get older.)

So, I can't help but wonder: where was everyone all this time when it came to seeking help?

They actually did a lot, especially my mom. I never really caused any problems—I wouldn't say I was necessarily withdrawn, just that I didn't really express emotions much. I have some vague memories of being sad, but it was always something internal, you know? It wasn't something I showed outwardly. I don't think I looked like a kid who needed help at the time, though looking back now, it’s honestly pretty hard to even remember properly.

briskpuma6 said:The one asking the questions is the one driving the conversation, effectively seizing the upper hand. Narcissists have this pathological need to micromanage every single interaction—they must dominate both themselves and everyone else—which is precisely why they suppress any semblance of true emotion; they are deathly afraid of being vulnerable or showing their soul to anyone.

Don't even think about sitting there expecting an actual answer from them.
They’re the ones doing all the interrogating! 🙂

I did a little digging into narcissistic personality types—mostly just some random sites that popped up on Google, which aren't exactly peer-reviewed medical journals, I know—🙂 and honestly, none of it rings true for me. It says things like, "They believe they are superior to others, constantly comparing themselves, boasting, feeling envious, struggling to focus on work, draining people, exploiting others..." Well, if I actually fit that description and just haven't realized it yet, then my issues go way deeper than just being emotionally detached.😵

rapidmaker15 said:I did a little digging into narcissistic personality types—mostly just some random sites that popped up on Google, which aren't exactly peer-reviewed medical journals, I know—🙂 and honestly, none of it rings true for me. It says things like, "They believe they are superior to others, constantly comparing themselves, boasting, feeling envious, struggling to focus on work, draining people, exploiting others..." Well, if I actually fit that description and just haven't realized it yet, then my issues go way deeper than just being emotionally detached.😵

If I were you, I’d stop relying on Google. Not every narcissist is an exploitative, lying, cheating, manipulative, moronic, energy-vampire, lowlife jerk... Most of what you see on YouTube—and from what I’ve gathered, almost everything out there—focuses exclusively on malignant narcissists.

There are also benign types: brilliant, honest, respectable, progressive, hardworking, and focused individuals. They don't manipulate, lie, or exploit anyone; they aren't deviants, because let's be real, we're all a little bit deviant in our own ways.

It all comes down to upbringing and environment, and certainly genetics too, though I won't get sidetracked into that debate.

However, the common thread linking both groups is anger and emptiness. Followed by a total lack of empathy, an inability to exist in solitude—essentially a dependency on other people's emotions. They get bored easily and are constantly hunting for the next thrill. And last but certainly not least: a complete absence of guilt!

Have you ever stayed awake at night because you knew you had hurt someone so deeply? Have you ever felt that physical knot in your stomach for days on end because you caused someone pain? Have you? What did you actually do to make amends? How long did your apology last? Did you ever actually offer to fix the situation—meaning, did you spend entire days obsessing over how, when, and in what way to provide a solution?

How is it that you feel no remorse for your parents? How can you not call them, knowing full well they are suffering because of you? How can you not care?

Depression and anger are inextricably linked.

Have you ever lived with a boyfriend in the same apartment for more than two months? How was it? How did you feel? Which emotions took over? How did you feel in the morning when you woke up next to him? Were you affectionate, or did you practically jump out of bed? And at night, did you actually want to sit and watch TV with him, or did you just flee to sleep?

I suppose that's enough questions for now. 🙂

briskpuma6 said:If I were you, I’d stop relying on Google. Not every narcissist is an exploitative, lying, cheating, manipulative, moronic, energy-vampire, lowlife jerk... Most of what you see on YouTube—and from what I’ve gathered, almost everything out there—focuses exclusively on malignant narcissists.

There are also benign types: brilliant, honest, respectable, progressive, hardworking, and focused individuals. They don't manipulate, lie, or exploit anyone; they aren't deviants, because let's be real, we're all a little bit deviant in our own ways.

It all comes down to upbringing and environment, and certainly genetics too, though I won't get sidetracked into that debate.

However, the common thread linking both groups is anger and emptiness. Followed by a total lack of empathy, an inability to exist in solitude—essentially a dependency on other people's emotions. They get bored easily and are constantly hunting for the next thrill. And last but certainly not least: a complete absence of guilt!

Have you ever stayed awake at night because you knew you had hurt someone so deeply? Have you ever felt that physical knot in your stomach for days on end because you caused someone pain? Have you? What did you actually do to make amends? How long did your apology last? Did you ever actually offer to fix the situation—meaning, did you spend entire days obsessing over how, when, and in what way to provide a solution?

How is it that you feel no remorse for your parents? How can you not call them, knowing full well they are suffering because of you? How can you not care?

Depression and anger are inextricably linked.

Have you ever lived with a boyfriend in the same apartment for more than two months? How was it? How did you feel? Which emotions took over? How did you feel in the morning when you woke up next to him? Were you affectionate, or did you practically jump out of bed? And at night, did you actually want to sit and watch TV with him, or did you just flee to sleep?

I suppose that's enough questions for now. 🙂

The only thing that comes to mind regarding me hurting someone is my exes—I just didn't give them the emotional support they deserved. I don't know how much they suffered because of it, honestly. But the fact is, it didn't really eat at me much.

I don't feel bad for my parents, I don't feel any need to call them, and I just don't have an emotional connection with them. I don't believe they're suffering either, since they don't reach out to me; I don't think we're bonded in the way most people are, since we never really hugged or did anything together...

I've never lived with anyone. Back when I was in college, I used to be more affectionate, but over time that faded. Now, I don't even know how to love someone anymore, let alone how to start a relationship. I'm terrified of getting into something hollow, but I'm also scared of being alone.

briskpuma6 said:If I were you, I’d stop relying on Google. Not every narcissist is an exploitative, lying, cheating, manipulative, moronic, energy-vampire, lowlife jerk... Most of what you see on YouTube—and from what I’ve gathered, almost everything out there—focuses exclusively on malignant narcissists.

There are also benign types: brilliant, honest, respectable, progressive, hardworking, and focused individuals. They don't manipulate, lie, or exploit anyone; they aren't deviants, because let's be real, we're all a little bit deviant in our own ways.

It all comes down to upbringing and environment, and certainly genetics too, though I won't get sidetracked into that debate.

However, the common thread linking both groups is anger and emptiness. Followed by a total lack of empathy, an inability to exist in solitude—essentially a dependency on other people's emotions. They get bored easily and are constantly hunting for the next thrill. And last but certainly not least: a complete absence of guilt!

Have you ever stayed awake at night because you knew you had hurt someone so deeply? Have you ever felt that physical knot in your stomach for days on end because you caused someone pain? Have you? What did you actually do to make amends? How long did your apology last? Did you ever actually offer to fix the situation—meaning, did you spend entire days obsessing over how, when, and in what way to provide a solution?

How is it that you feel no remorse for your parents? How can you not call them, knowing full well they are suffering because of you? How can you not care?

Depression and anger are inextricably linked.

Have you ever lived with a boyfriend in the same apartment for more than two months? How was it? How did you feel? Which emotions took over? How did you feel in the morning when you woke up next to him? Were you affectionate, or did you practically jump out of bed? And at night, did you actually want to sit and watch TV with him, or did you just flee to sleep?

I suppose that's enough questions for now. 🙂

I don't really feel anger—that’s just not my thing—nor do I think I lack empathy for people. But, I guess I could admit to feeling empty. Somewhere deep down under the surface, there's probably some suppressed sadness... or maybe fear. Fear of being alone, I suppose. I’m always willing to step up and help others, but the issue is that I tend to build a wall the second the roles are reversed. I listen much more than I actually speak.

Maybe you're right, maybe I am a narcissist. How does one even change that? I don't want to live like this—it all feels so hollow.

Ever since I can remember, whenever I've felt down, I’ve just kept it all bottled up inside—never letting it leak out to anyone else. Even when I was younger, I didn't really go around sharing my feelings with people. I just handled my own problems, period. It’s hard to break that habit now, and honestly, I feel like there’s no point in dragging someone else down with my issues anyway.
Writing stuff like this on the forum actually brought back some childhood memories I thought I’d moved past