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What is love? (part one)

Perhaps a question that has occupied humans since the dawn of time, it may seem like an odd title for an article, however, the answer to this question in psychological terms is profound.

What love is not

Firstly, love is not really what most people believe it to be; the opposite of hate.

Love can only really exist in the context of a relationship whether with ourselves or another. In fact, it is a prerequisite that we love ourselves in order to be able to love another. And loving ourselves has itself a prerequisite, which is that we have internalised the felt experience of being loved by another. Love begets love.

Love is also not the same as falling in love. Falling in love is generally a phrase that we apply to romantic relationships. It is a powerful and wonderful experience filled with a range of diverse emotions that make us feel quite ‘out of sorts’, and in presentation can be a little akin to psychosis, in the old-fashioned sense of the word – we do not see the other as they are, but idealise them to the extent that we can ignore reality.

Therefore, love is neither the absence of hate, nor is it idealisation, which is really another way of saying the same thing.

The opposite of love

Returning to the question of what is the opposite of love, it is indifference.

Indifference implies no relationship. Now, this may be all well and good in the context of others with whom we have no contact – people we pass in the street – but relationally, indifference is problematic.

Indifference towards someone with whom we are supposedly having a relationship means that we are unable to care about them. We are unable to relate to them as a separate human being who has their own set of thoughts, feelings and needs.

In relationships where there is an indifference towards the other, the relationship is inherently based on power and control dynamics in lieu of love. This would also psychologically constitute a sadomasochistic relationship, one that is based on a need for the other rather than a love for the other.

Such relationships are rigid, uncompromising, unsatisfying and based on fear of abandonment rather than on freedom.

What love is

Put simply, love is the capacity to value another, despite a lack of control over them and an acknowledgement of difference.

Love is the capacity to tolerate frustration and disappointment in a relationship.

And real relationships are the integration of both love and hate.

Who can love?

Human beings are relational in nature, meaning that we are born into relationship with our mothers. Like other mammals we develop in utero and are dependent on the relationship with our mothers for our survival – and more so and for a longer duration than any other mammal.

It is through our relationship with our mother (or primary carer) that we learn about love. Through being loved we learn that we are lovable and therefore worthy of love. We learn over many years to love ourselves and then with this comes the capacity to love others. That’s if it all goes to plan.

Infants cannot love and nor can some adults

Most people tend to idealise babies seeing them as lovely, sweet and adorable. However, babies are little tyrants. Babies and young infants are entirely consumed with their own needs. They have no capacity to love their mother, father or anyone else – they simply need to be loved. That does not mean they don’t form an attachment to us or that they don’t need us – on the contrary, they need their mother for their very survival.

However, an infant never wakes in the night and thinks to herself: “My mother is asleep so I will put off needing a feed for another hour so she can get some rest”. They simply cry. Over time infants must learn about surviving feelings before they develop the capacity to love, and one of the main feelings they must contend with is frustration.

Mothers frustrate their infants enormously, in that despite the fantasies of the young child, they have no control over their mother. They can cry, scream and make a mess but ultimately it is up to the mother when she appears and if at all.

Most mothers do appear, but not magically at the exact moment the infant needs her. This presents the infant with a problem. The young child, in order to cope with feeling helpless and impotent, initially constructs a story of the perfect mother. When this jars with reality as a result of the ordinary failings and humanness of her mother, the solution for the infant is to create two mothers: one good and one bad.

The two mothers – love(d) and hate(d)

The infant creates this split in order to cope with her frustrations and rage at not being able to control her mother. The good mother is the one who attends to her needs, the bad mother is the one who disappoints. It is a developmental step and a way of psychologically managing conflicting feelings – love and hate.

Over time, with a good enough relationship between mother and child, the child reaches the painful conclusion that there are not two mothers, but rather one who is mostly good, but also disappoints her. This is a huge developmental stage and means that the young child can not only start to bear reality and the separateness of others, but also forms the foundations of being able to love.

So, the answer to the question “who can love?” is that it is those who have reached a developmental level of maturity that in the world of psychoanalytic object relations we call ‘the depressive position’.

The sad reality is that there are a fair few adults who are simply unable to love. They continue to see the world in terms of good and bad and therefore oscillate between idealisation and denigration – neither position being real except in the world of fairy tales.

Personalities that can love

In the world of psychoanalytical psychotherapy, we tend to focus less on the behaviour of a person (although it still matters) and more on understanding, through the therapeutic relationship, two key diagnostic criteria: personality organisation and personality style.

Personality organisation is a term used to understand the psychological maturity of a person – what ordinary developmental stages of emotional and psychological maturity they have worked through. There are three categories, neurotic (most of us), borderline and psychotic. Please note the term ‘borderline’ has nothing to do with the DSM diagnosis of borderline personality disorder.

All of us have a personality style and whilst there is no such thing as a single personality style as we are all a mix of different traits, most of us have a style that dominates. The more dominant one particular style and the more rigid that person’s personality combined with having a borderline personality organisation, the more likely it is that that person may be described as suffering from a personality disorder.

The narcissistically organised patient

If we take the example of a strongly narcissistically organised patient who has been on the receiving end of childhood neglect and as a result has a borderline organisation, this person is stuck developmentally at a very young age.

I have chosen the narcissistic personality style as an example, as the developmental process of shifting from a one-person world to a two-person world is one we all undergo – we therefore all have narcissistic personality styles as young infants.

This patient will not be able to love nor feel loved. They will oscillate between idealising and denigrating others, and be indifferent to the feelings and needs of anyone around them. They need others strongly but hide this, as vulnerability is shameful to them.

Why does love matter?

Love matters enormously as we are born into, defined by and continue to need relationships throughout our lives. Ultimately, it is love that gives life meaning.

Devoid of love, the world is a fearful and dangerous place – a place that needs controlling and managing.

Without the capacity to love, we cannot have psychological freedom.

Psychotherapy is a cure through love

Freud talked about analysis (psychotherapy) as being a cure through love. I have written about this here.

What has been damaged or hurt in relationship can only be healed in relationship. And real relationships are always based on love.

 

Mark Vahrmeyer, UKCP Registered, BHP Co-founder is an integrative psychotherapist with a wide range of clinical experience from both the public and private sectors. He currently sees both individuals and couples, primarily for ongoing psychotherapy.  Mark is available at the Lewes and Brighton & Hove Practices.

 

Further reading by Mark Vahrmeyer – 

I worked as a Psychotherapist with Death. Here’s what I learnt

How do I become more assertive?

What is the difference between loving and longing?

Why do we expect women to smile and not men?

Is there something wrong with me for hating Christmas?

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Can psychotherapy help narcissists?

In my last two blogs on the topic of narcissism, I have covered off what narcissism is (and is not), and provided my perspective on whether we are, collectively, becoming more narcissistic.

In this final blog (for now) on this topic, I shall offer my perspective on the commonly asked question of whether psychotherapy can help narcissists? As with pretty much every question relating to mental health and psychotherapy, the answer to this seemingly simple question is ‘it depends’.

First off, what is mean by narcissism? Has the person in question received a diagnosis of having a narcissistic personality? And if so, by whom?

The clinical definition of narcissism is one that differs significantly from how the term has been hijacked and is now used in popular culture. Clinicians are far less concerned with outward behaviour that pop culture seems to label as narcissistic and instead think about how the personality of the patient is organised. We are all capable of selfish and inconsiderate behaviour at times, however, this does not mean that we all have narcissistically structured personalities.

I shall not revisit the detailed clinical definition in this blog as for those of you who are interested, you can read more here. However, in summary, someone who has a narcissistic personality style ‘scaffolds’ their sense of self through constant external validation. They therefore have a very fragile sense of self – of who they really are – and instead define themselves by their purchases, conquests or achievements. How most narcissists portray themselves to the outside world (and to themselves) is in direct contrast to how these folks feel on the inside – insecure, inadequate and unlovable.

There is a second type of narcissistic personality which is generally overlooked and often misdiagnosed and that is the deflated or collapsed narcissist. On the face of it deflated narcissists seem to be the opposite to their grandiose counterparts in that they present as depressed and as if nothing they have ever done is any good. However, unlike people with depressive personalities, deflated narcissists are filled with a sense of rage and injustice that they have not been afforded the life and opportunities they believe they deserve – in other words, their internal world is grandiose and consumed by fantasy, whilst externally they seem collapsed.

OK, so now we know what we are dealing with, I can return to the question of whether narcissism can be treated?

The successful treatment of any patient in analysis or psychotherapy is dependent on that patient’s desire to change. As treatment unfolds, it often becomes clear to the patient what change involves and that all change on a structural level is slow and painful. Whilst many people successfully engage with psychotherapy, most if not all harbour a secret wish that change can happen without them actually having to change! This is generally an even stronger fantasy in the world of the narcissist.

Unlike other conditions, people rarely if ever present for therapy because ‘they are narcissists’ – after all, why would they? They are not the problem – everyone else is!

As long as the narcissistic person’s defences (systems of external validation) are working, then they simply will not see that there is a problem. If someone with a narcissistic structure does attend therapy it is either because their defences have failed and they want help putting them back in place, or they have reached an age (usually middle-age) where they realise that the quality of their relationships is limited to non-existent and they want to understand why. The latter is the hopeful position.

In clinical language, there are couple of formulas that enables us to evaluate how successful psychotherapy is likely to be for someone with a narcissistic personality: firstly, how rigid is the personality – the more rigid and towards the realms of personality disorder, the less likely treatment will be successful; secondly, whether there narcissistic personality is combined with elements of psychopathy (anti-social personality). Where someone has a strong combination of narcissism and anti-social traits (or sadistic traits) then treatment outcomes are very poor.

Assuming we are dealing with someone who has a dominant narcissistic personality, but one that is neither too rigid nor mixed with sadism or anti-social traits, then there is hope.

The two approaches

There are two main schools of thought in the psycho-analytic community around how best to treat narcissism which were put forward by two of the main thinkers in the field – Kohut and Kernberg.

Kohut proposed that because what has been lacking in the narcissistic patient’s childhood was an empathic and attuned parent who could see the child’s needs, the work should therefore focus on an empathic and attuned approach of validating the patient’s feelings and working to enable the patient to both bear their ordinary vulnerability as well as to combat their shame about having emotions.

Kernberg, who it has been argued focuses more on the pathological end of the spectrum, takes a more confrontative approach to the narcissistic patient and advocates (in the context of a robust therapeutic relationship) the need to challenge the perspective of the narcissistic patient and to push them to consider the experience of those with whom they are having a relationship. Kernberg’s theory centres around challenging the narcissists central tenet that everything and everyone revolves around them.

So which is right?

The correct approach to treating a patient with a narcissistic personality will be tailored to that patient by the clinician – just as it is for every patient.

My perspective on treating patients is that where there is genuine will on the part of the patient, treatment outcomes are often successful.

Psychotherapy, whether for someone with a narcissistic personality, or indeed any presenting issue, is a courageous endeavour. What brings most of us to therapy is a need for change and change is frightening and painful.

Whilst it is a part of my role to assess and evaluate whether a patient is suitable for psychotherapy, I do this from a clinical and ethical position, rather a moral one. If I cannot help someone, or believe therapy will exacerbate their symptoms or push them into psychosis, I have a duty to not take them on and to refer them for other treatment.

Narcissism, contrary to TikTok and other social media platforms, is not a trait that can be diagnosed just on how someone behaves or treats us. Often it takes a fair number of sessions before I fully understand that someone is developmentally stuck with a narcissistic personality that dominates. However, as long as they want to attempt to enter into a relational world of others then I believe there is hope.

 

Mark Vahrmeyer, UKCP Registered, BHP Co-founder is an integrative psychotherapist with a wide range of clinical experience from both the public and private sectors. He currently sees both individuals and couples, primarily for ongoing psychotherapy.  Mark is available at the Lewes and Brighton & Hove Practices.

 

Further reading by Mark Vahrmeyer

Are we becoming more narcissistic?

What is narcissism?

The medicalisation of mental distress

Can chatbot companions relieve our loneliness?

What are feelings anyway?

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Are we becoming more narcissistic?

We are living in the age of narcissism – or so the media would like us to believe. People in The West seem to be focussed largely on themselves and the pursuit of happiness – the answer to which for increasing numbers of the populace is to be found in the soundbites of TikTok celebrities or from the wisdom of other social media ‘influencers’.

But are we collectively becoming increasingly narcissistic and what does this mean?

In my last blog I dispelled some of the myths around this condition and explained rather than it being a description for a set of behaviours, it is a personality style and in its more rigid manifestations, a debilitating one from a relational perspective. I shall therefore not be revisiting all that again and you can read my in-depth blog on what narcissism actually is here.

The argument that behaviour tells us anything much about a person’s personality structure – particularly when it comes to narcissism – is naïve and reductive.

Changes in behaviour online

We know that people behave differently in online interactions as compared to when they are face-to-face with another human being. It is the actual, as well as the perceived distance, from the other’s humanness that seems to give many licence to behave in selfish and thoughtless ways.

Whenever we cease to view the other as human and objectify them, we are not acting relationally as the very word ‘relational’ implies a willingness to understand another’s perspective and to be able to tolerate difference, even if we don’t much like their views.

Is modern man (and women) less able to tolerate differences than prior generations? I am not so sure. What I do know is that the internet, and specifically social media, provides platforms to both those who rather like the sound of their own voice (but arguably have little actual wisdom to impart) and it provides a huge scope for attracting an audience.

Where not so long ago an individual may have believed that they held the key to a successful life (whatever that means), they may have attracted a few lost souls in their tribe, village or town. Now, with expert ‘curation’ of their message and image, they can reach the whole world.

On narcissistic personalities

Behaving in a selfish or egocentric way does not mean that someone is a narcissist. Certainly narcissists can be grandiose, self-centred, entitled and enjoy the sound of their own voice, however we can all at times behave in this way.

Narcissism is a personality style, and we all have a mix of personality styles, generally with one or two that dominate a little more than others. If someone has a narcissistic personality then this particular style of personality is dominant and can be viewed on a continuum (of rigidity) from pathological through to personality disordered.

In psychoanalytic theory, clinicians view these personality styles as being primarily laid down by our early infant and childhood experiences (generally up to around the age of two).

Someone who has a narcissistic personality has not been related to as a separate individual but rather has learnt from a very early age to adapt their behaviour to the needs of their caregiver. In essence, they have internalised the message ‘do not exist’. As a result of learning that their role is to meet the needs of others (their primary carers), the child in question develops a ‘false self’ to compensate – they present a front to the world suggesting that they are perfectly fine.

Beneath this front is a vulnerable child who cannot show his or her feelings for fear of abandonment by the parent. For narcissistically structured people, others – relationships – are a major problem. They need others, however, they also profoundly fear being used or ‘taken over’ by others and so to defend themselves by objectifying those around them. Relationships are about doing or being done to, rather than love.

How might this apply to the collective?

My sense is that it is unlikely that there is now a sudden increase in parents who are failing their children and raising narcissistically structured personalities. However, as the old adage goes, ‘it takes a village to raise a child’ – no child is solely influenced by their parents.

The clinical research would suggest that we are not becoming more narcissistic in terms of personality style, however, what has exponentially changed are two major factors: we have lost collective meaning because the world is changing too fast for us to cultivate and uphold meaning, and secondly, technology is playing an all encompassing role in dehumanising us.

The role of meaning

Human beings are meaning making creatures and we live in a symbolic universe which is probably what renders us unique amongst animals. I have previously written a piece on the role of Culture and the need for belonging in enabling us to have healthy self esteem, which you can read here.

Essentially, as traditional values and means of making meaning either fall away or are dismantled, we are left with two problems: higher anxiety and less collective means of gaining self esteem.

This may then cause us to both behave in more individualistic and hedonistic ways to feel alive but without substance – we deny our vulnerability by becoming more narcissistic.

The role of technology

We are at the start of a technological revolution where only our imagination can predict what the world, and by extension, our relationship to it and others in it, will look like.

Technology is not intrinsically good nor bad – it depends on how we use it. And to date how we have used it is in a rather dehumanising fashion. Convenience has trumped connection and this can be seen in the proliferation of parasocial relationships (where we have relationships with influencers or YouTubers and believe they are real and personal, when they are in fact one-way), and the evolution of dating through online apps whereby we have commoditised ourselves.

On the symbiotic relationship between Echo and Narcissus

The origins of narcissism were taken, largely by Freud, from the 2,000 year old myth written by Ovid. This Greek myth – a myth being a story that reflects a collective truth – is entitled ‘When Echo meets Narcissus’ and whilst most people are to some degree familiar with the myth, it is often misconstrued: many believe that Narcissus fell in love with his reflection in a pool of water; And few even know of the role of Echo.

Narcissus is someone who is admired by all and who cannot tolerate intimacy. Echo, meanwhile, is a river nymph whose voice has been taken by Juno, the Goddess, for gossiping. Echo can therefore only repeat the last words she hears.

This is how the stage, and the symbiotic relationship, between Narcissus and Echo is set both on the myth and for all time: Narcissus needs Echo just as much as Echo needs Narcissus but neither can have a relationship with the other – they are in symbiosis.

Returning to the question of whether technology and specifically how online relationships are being shaped is rendering us more narcissistic, if it is it is, it also rendering us more like Echo – willing to sacrifice our voice to be in the shadow of those we admire; we believe that there is a relationship happening but there simply is not.

Narcissistic people need echoists; we are collectively responsible for admiring those who need to be admired rather than having something of substance to offer. Human beings are adaptable to our environment – it is why we have been able to colonise every corner of the globe. Equally, we absolutely need relationships, as we are shaped and formed not only in childhood by relationship, but throughout our lives.

My view is that as a result of a combination of both a loss of meaning and the ease of online interactions, we dehumanise both ourselves and others and thus become more narcissistic, or at least egocentric. However, unlike those with true narcissistic personalities, it is reversible and as a clinician I know only too well the power of change that comes from a therapeutic relationship.

 

Mark Vahrmeyer, UKCP Registered, BHP Co-founder is an integrative psychotherapist with a wide range of clinical experience from both the public and private sectors. He currently sees both individuals and couples, primarily for ongoing psychotherapy.  Mark is available at the Lewes and Brighton & Hove Practices.

 

Further reading by Mark Vahrmeyer

What is a narcissist? 

The medicalisation of mental distress

Can chatbot companions relieve our loneliness?

What are feelings anyway?

Client or patient; patient or client – does it matter?

The psychological impact of the recession

 

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What is narcissism?

Since the time of Sigmund Freud, clinical terms around psychology have made their way into everyday language. Narcissism is no exception to this and yet it stands in a category of its own for both how ubiquitous it has become in popular culture, alongside also being so misunderstood.

Frequently used as a term of insult or abuse to describe someone who displays little regard for others, narcissists are defined in society by their outward displays of behaviour. However, for a ‘condition’ that evokes so much of a backlash, collectively we seem to secretly admire the fantasy life we attribute to narcissists and envy the way they glide through life unaffected by the trials and tribulations of us mere mortals. Narcissism and narcissists are envied and denigrated in equal measure.

Alongside the ubiquity of the term, there is no shortage of material available to enable us to navigate a world filled with narcissistic others. From podcasts to YouTube seminars, TikTok videos to old fashioned books, narcissism is everywhere. Many titles suggest an extreme danger or risk of being near or around narcissists with titles such as ‘surviving narcissism’, ‘narcissism epidemic’ and ‘defeating narcissism’ being common. And yet most of these resources fundamentally fail to understand the essence of narcissism and what constitutes a so- called ‘narcissist’.

Indeed, it is interesting that of all the personality styles, such as depressive or obsessive-compulsive, it is this personality style that has become a label for the entire human being: rather than having a narcissistic personality, people are simply labelled as narcissists.

Popular culture
In recent years few clinical terms have been adopted and taken on a life of their own outside of the clinical context above and beyond narcissism.

When popular culture references narcissism or labels an individual as narcissistic, this is generally based on witnessed behaviour, rather than on any deeper understanding of what may have driven that particular behaviour. Popular culture is not wholly to blame for this as the field of mental health has for years been steadily shifting to diagnosing and labelling based predominantly on outward behaviour, rather than from an understanding of personality dynamics.

The problem is that the word that in a clinical context is used to describe traits or the style of a person’s whole personality, is being used as a description of behaviour – ‘he is behaving really narcissistically’ – which may or not have anything to do with the person’s personality; the behaviour tells us very little. In fact, I am not really sure what ‘behaving narcissistically’ even means!

It is not that there is no truth to the ‘watered-down’ formulation of narcissism in the mainstream, it is just that like so many other mental health terms, the nuance and balance has been lost, not least in the context of the ‘narcissists’ experience of being this way. Fundamentally, what’s lost is empathy.

Narcissism is not an illness, it is a personality style
I would suggest that the psychoanalytic field provides us with the most accurate understanding of narcissism and its impacts, as rather than focusing on external patterns of behaviour, psychoanalytic theory considers both the inner world of the patient – what it is like to be them – and their relational world – how do they relate to themselves and others. In other words, when clinicians talk about narcissism they are referring to a particular type of personality that has ‘narcissism’ as its dominant style.

What is a personality?
Personalities are something we all have and whilst we generally have a mix of styles, most of have a dominant one. So, when we consider somebody’s personality style, we are thinking about what trait is dominant and how rigid their personality is – this can be imagined as a scale from healthy functioning, through to personality disorder (and just to further muddy the waters, there is little agreement on at what point someone is personality disordered).

However, there is a further complication when considering narcissism: narcissism like all more dominant personality styles, one that has come about through relational injury during the first two years of development. It rarely appears in isolation to other personality styles and the other main personality styles frequently, if not always, show elements of narcissism in their foundations. It is therefore not always easy to spot.

What are the traits of a narcissistic personality style?
Most people who have a narcissistic personality present outwardly as grandiose, entitled, selfish and are constantly looking for external validation. However, what presents externally as grandiosity belies an internal world characterised by a deep sense of inadequacy and fear.

People with narcissistic personalities fear ‘being found out’ – they fear intimacy and vulnerability as they imagine everyone will see what they see: that they are unlovable.

There exists in the narcissist a constant drive to shore up their fragile self esteem through the external world – what they buy, who they are seen with, what they achieve. Whilst we all garner external validation to some extend in these ways, most of us have a solid enough sense of self to hold onto a real sense of self esteem that does not need scaffolding.

When it comes to relationships narcissistic people face an enormous dilemma as they desperately need others – to both tell them how wonderful they are, as well as to avoid their primal feelings of abandonment. However, they cannot relate in a two-person manner, meaning that whilst they need greatly, they love shallowly.

Narcissistic people protect themselves at all costs against ‘narcissistic injury’ which comes about when their feelings of shame are triggered. And feelings of shame arise when narcissistic people are challenged or called out – it is unbearable for them and they respond with shame which is transformed into rage. This holds the key to why narcissistic people cannot have real relationships: they cannot content with difference which is what we encounter when we are in a real relationship with another ordinary complex human being.

There is one other ‘type’ of narcissistic style which often gets missed in clinical diagnoses and that is the depressed, or collapsed, narcissist. On the face of it this person would seem to be the opposite of the grandiose narcissist and this is in fact correct! However, what looks to be collapsed, depressed and an outward expression of worthlessness, hides an inner world where this character feels utterly entitled to far more than they have and are. They are rageful that the world has treated them in this way and secretly feel entitled to specialness.

Final thoughts
Narcissim is a complex topic to grasp and even clinicians often struggle to fully make sense of whether someone if a narcissist or not.

One of the problems is that people with this structure tend not to present for psychotherapy and if they do it is never because they feel ‘narcissistic’. It is therefore not a condition that is in their awareness.

There are no dependable tests to check for narcissism and just because someone behaves in selfish or egocentric ways, it tells us nothing about their personality structure – after all, can’t we all be selfish at times?

Ultimately, a skilled clinician works out through the therapeutic relationship whether someone is narcissistic. It is a combination of understanding the clinical theory as well as relying on their felt experience. Being in relationship with a narcissistic personality does not feel like an ordinary relationship. They may greatly need you or ‘brush you aside’, or a combination of both but what they cannot do is relate in an equal two-person manner. Their vulnerability and humanness is hidden for fear of shame and abandonment – the narcissistic injury.

 

Mark Vahrmeyer, UKCP Registered, BHP Co-founder is an integrative psychotherapist with a wide range of clinical experience from both the public and private sectors. He currently sees both individuals and couples, primarily for ongoing psychotherapy.  Mark is available at the Lewes and Brighton & Hove Practices.

Further reading by Mark Vahrmeyer

The medicalisation of mental distress

Can chatbot companions relieve our loneliness?

What are feelings anyway?

Client or patient; patient or client – does it matter?

The psychological impact of the recession

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Why is Netflix’s Squid Game so popular?

If you haven’t heard of the phenomenon that is ‘Squid Game’ then you either have not got Netflix, or are asleep. However, for those of you who haven’t, here is an extremely brief synopsis:

Squid Game is set in modern day South Korea and is a dystopian nightmare of a game whereby the wealthy and entitled prey on the indebted and vulnerable in society through enlisting them into a ‘game’ based on Korean children’s games, however, where the contestants are killed if they fail or lose each round. Beyond the set design and superficial concept, the characters are ubiquitous and the finale relatively predictable. What really stands out on this series is firstly the astonishing level of macabre violence and secondly, how popular it has been as a global phenomenon.

Narcissism by another name

We are all fascinated by car crashes hence why it is not uncommon to witness secondary crashes alongside the scene of the first, as distracted drivers fetishistically scan the crash rather than watching the road (commonly known as ‘rubber-necking’). Squid Game does a good job of drawing viewers in with its almost limitless supply of violent deaths.

However, Squid Game is more than a mere car crash, it is a carefully choreographed and scripted example of extreme narcissism.

Dystopia or a social commentary?

Much has been made of how many of the elements of Squid Game reflect the social and income inequalities present in Korean society and there may be some truth to this.

Indeed, social and income inequality, when rampant, is a product of narcissism, where fellow humans are considered inferior or less than others.

However, to suggest that a series in which literally hundreds of people are murdered and psychopathology and sadism are the norm, is some sort of social commentary, really is an enormous stretch.

So is it a dystopia? Orwell’s 1984 was a critique on a dystopian future as was Huxley’s Brave New World. Squid Game is pure and simply gratuitous horror and violence for the sake of it. Nothing more nothing less.

What is narcissism?

Narcissism gets a bad rap, and whilst pathological narcissism is arguably responsible for many of the ails of the world, narcissism is on a spectrum.

Healthy narcissism lies in the middle of a spectrum between two extremes: one where a person cannot hold themselves in mind, and the second, where a person cannot hold anyone else in mind.

Healthy narcissism is one of the goals of successful therapy – to help clients hold themselves in mind whilst not losing sight of the individualises and thus the needs of others. The therapist holds the client in mind and becomes ‘an other’ to the client.

In Squid Game, the world is one wherein nobody can hold themselves in mind nor can they hold anyone else in mind. Holding oneself in mind means being able to think about the consequences of behaviour and choices on oneself and others. This is therefore extreme narcissism.

One person universes

Pathological narcissism – those with either strong traits or narcissism or narcissistic personality disorder – is a developmental arrest. Those afflicted are, in all but age and body, as sophisticated in relating as your average two-year-old child.

Young children have to learn to relate, which means learning to live in a world of others. And living with other means not only tolerating difference but also trying to imagine the mind of another – empathy. This is the core of relating and sadly, whilst being strongly narcissistic is a serious developmental deficiency, it is ubiquitous through every level of society. Pathological narcissists live in one person universes where everyone else is either a reflection of them, or against them; nobody else is therefore real.

So why, in the end, are so many people watching and commenting on Squid Game?

As with pretty much everything in life, there is no one single answer. It is, on face value, novel (though the fundamentals of the plot and characters are in fact hoary); it is ‘foreign’ and so brings ‘novelty’ from the usual Hollywood slasher films; whilst in my view it does not reflect society here or in Korea, it is perhaps an outlet for the anxiety we all feel resulting from the impact of the global pandemic.

It is an unwitting study in pathological narcissism and sadism – something we are perhaps all fascinated by: to relate is hard work and the regressive fantasy of the small child in us all is that it would be easier to simply ‘use’ others for our own means. What the fantasy negates is the crushing emptiness and shallowness of the narcissist: it is lonely to live in a one person universe.

On balance, perhaps it maters little why Squid Game is such a phenomenon – social media has made many vacuous memes popular, principally because they are distractions. However, there may just be a paradox at play here: it is popular because in watching what others watch and commenting, we are trying to feel a sense of connection and belonging.

Ultimately, perhaps the question should be is it worth watching? No more so than any car crash we may encounter in going about our lives. It is twisted and perverse and reflects back to us the worst of what humans are capable of.

 

To enquire about psychotherapy sessions with Mark Vahrmeyer, please contact him here, or to view our full clinical team, please click here.

 

Mark Vahrmeyer, UKCP Registered, BHP Co-founder is an integrative psychotherapist with a wide range of clinical experience from both the public and private sectors. He currently sees both individuals and couples, primarily for ongoing psychotherapy.  Mark is available at the Lewes and Brighton & Hove Practices.

 

Further reading by Mark Vahrmeyer

Space: The Final Frontier of Manic Defence

Do Psychotherapists Need to Love Their Clients?

Unexpressed emotions will never die

What is the purpose of intimate relationships?

Why ‘Cancel Culture’ is about the inability to tolerate difference

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How being ordinary is increasingly extraordinary – On the role of narcissistic defences

Who wants to be ordinary? The word has unpleasant connotations; like something that offers little that is good or substantial. And yet it is a word I often think about and return to in my clinical practice. It could even be one of the primary goals of therapy: to become ordinary.

In the world today there is more and more in place to protect us from being ordinary, that is, to protect us from being ourselves.

We have an almost infinite number of television channels, live streaming of every conceivable film and box-set and console games set in technicolour virtual reality.  The whole world is modelled on making us all feel special. And it is within reach for us all, if only we have just enough about us to win the latest talent show broadcast at primetime, or to garner enough Youtube followers or win the Lotto – after all ‘it could be you’.

All this presupposes that being simply ordinary is wrong; that being ordinary is settling for something less than. However, being ordinary in the truest sense of the world means being able to be in relationship with our inner world and make decisions and life choices – choices based on desire rather than the need to shore up our defences.

What is ordinary?

If being ordinary has little to do with accepting the mundane or second-rate life, then what does it mean?  Being ordinary means being in the real world, rather than retreating to a ‘fantasy world’ each time the real world becomes uncomfortable.  Or in some cases retreating from the real world to avoid it even the anticipation of discomfort.

On defences

I have previously written about manic defences enlisted in order to protect us from discomfort.  And whilst this blog in essence remains about manic defences, the use of certain defences to avoid ordinariness and strive for the extraordinary are a particular subset in the cluster of manic defences known as narcissistic defences.

Neglected children always construct a story of specialness

Whether it is story of being ‘special’ to a parent who leans on them for emotional support, or it is specialness born out of surviving a difficult childhood, being special or extraordinary can be a short-term invaluable solution to feeling helpless, hopeless, enraged and depressed. Or even mad.

Being extraordinary shores up the empty core of the neglected and abused child.  It enables them to cope and to construct a ‘pseudo-self’ so they can navigate the world. At least for a while.

A special kind of defence

There is an argument that as a society (western), we are becoming increasingly narcissistic: focused on consumerism and fantasy rather than connection and relationship.

The consumer world makes it easy to ‘sell’ specialness or the attainability of extraordinariness.  Even in the western spiritual model specialness is promoted through maxims such as ‘you are unique’; ‘you have a special gift to offer the world’ and so forth.

What’s so bad about being extraordinary?

Life should not be a choice between being extraordinary or being nothing (feeling like one does not exist).  Being ordinary is not the contrary of being extraordinary, at least not in psychotherapy. Being ordinary is the third position.

Being ordinary is a mature position of being able to withstand and navigate real life without flights of fancy; it is a position whereby we can make decisions from a position of strength and desire rather than from an ongoing defence of the fragile self.

In tangible terms, being ordinary means living a real and fulfilling life without a constant need for external validation and approval.  Without being defined by Facebook or Instagram ‘likes’.

Being ordinary is an authentic position and one through which we may have extraordinary experiences if we are lucky, but they will be rooted in reality.

All in all, it seems to me that being ordinary has really become something extraordinary in the modern world.

 

Mark Vahrmeyer, UKCP Registered, BHP Co-founder is an integrative psychotherapist with a wide range of clinical experience from both the public and private sectors. He currently sees both individuals and couples, primarily for ongoing psychotherapy.  Mark is available at the Lewes and Brighton & Hove Practices.

 

Further reading by Mark Vahrmeyer –

Can Psychotherapy or counselling be a business expense?

The difference between Counselling and Psychotherapy

What is the difference between fate and destiny?

Face to Face and Online Therapy Help Available Now

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What is narcissism?

Narcissism is a Freudian term that has become perhaps more ubiquitous in the social lexicon than any other derived from psychoanalysis.

It is a term that seems to define a generation in the eyes of the media – the Millennials, and one that we use disparagingly to describe celebrities before following them via social media, emulating them or electing them to the highest public office.

Narcissism in psychotherapy

In psychotherapy, narcissism is on a continuum from healthy to pathological. For example, it is entirely possible for a client or patient to lack enough healthy narcissism, in which case, the work is to strengthen their ego accordingly.

The sort of folk who get labelled as ‘narcissists’ – those who crave celebrity status, fame and live up to legend in seeking their reflection in the mirror that is society – rarely presents themselves for therapy. After all, why would they? They don’t have a problem – the problem is everyone else!

When we psychotherapists talk about narcissism and narcissistic defences and structures, it is rarely these people we are referring to. So how can we better understand narcissism as it presents in psychotherapy treatment?

What causes unhealthy narcissism?

Unhealthy narcissism is a defence.  Generally, it comes about through the young infant learning through relational patterns with his or her caregivers that he or she cannot rely on them, leading to a ‘turning away’. This turning away marks the beginning of a defensive structure built around self-sufficiency. However, this is not a self-sufficiency born out of healthy confidence, but one born out of emotional neglect.

Narcissistic structures are often well hidden in clients and patients and difficult to treat. Narcissistic patients and clients tend to treat all relationships, the therapeutic one included, as things that are there to be used and thus discarded when no longer of use. Relationships (in the truest sense of the word) are threatening at a core level to people who rely on narcissistic defences, as any true relating will open them up to a whole host of unbearable feelings and mental pain. The latter lies at the crux of the function of the narcissistic defence; the inability to cope with, endure and make sense of mental pain.

Is working with clients and patients exhibiting narcissistic defences a lost cause? Not if they willingly enter the therapy room and not if they are able to think about their vulnerable side and how they needed to develop a disdain for this part of themselves in order to survive. Without a doubt though, it will be a lively journey, because as the charming, likeable and self-sufficient façade starts to crack, rage, envy and mental pain will emerge and present themselves in the therapeutic relationship. This is often where the therapy can end, as the therapist is unable or unwilling to engage with the enactments that invariably will play out. If, however, these can be worked through, then there is genuine hope.

Mark Vahrmeyer is a UKCP Registered psychotherapist working in private practice in Hove and Lewes, East Sussex.  He is trained in relational psychotherapy and uses an integrative approach of psychodynamic, attachment and body psychotherapy to facilitate change with clients.

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