We have an upstairs bathroom which vents through the attic. Whenever the outside temperature dipped below 20 degrees Fahrenheit, and we took a shower, water would drip down from the ceiling. Obviously water vapor goes up, meets cold pipe in attic, condenses and drips down, right? Not so obvious to anyone but me, however. The handyman refused to believe it and argued that there must be a leak where the vent meets the roof. My husband said to listen to the handyman as he must, with his superior experience, know what he is talking about. I actually hired the guy twice to try to fix this supposed leak in various ways before, finally, the third time, I went and bought some pipe insulation and just told him to wrap the pipe. I’d have done it myself except for crippling allergies which made me hesitant to venture into the attic.

Of course it worked. Had my husband and the handyman (both with physics training in college) never sat and breathed on a cold glass of ice water in the summer and played with the resulting wetness? How can people be so blind? And why did I listen to these oblivious theories? (Well, because I’m trying to be less arrogant. I guess this sort of thing is a place where stubbornness would serve me better.)

For me it’s visual – I see the steam go up, and in my minds eye I see it bead up as it hits the pipe wall, and drips slowly down. I’ve seen it many times in real life, and I can see what’s happening up in the pipe.

I guess it does contradict your summary, as I guess I’m saying that I agree with the idea of children being naturally fairly selfish by nature at *certain stages* of their life.

But overall, I think the articles I linked to support your observation that many adults haven’t learned to balance their desires against the needs of others (or even their on true needs.)

And I agree with your “wider perspective” comment.

I love the title “Children of the Self-absorbed”, truly a book for out times! It’s theoreatically possible that if you’re an adult and simply love your children you mightn’t need help from a book like that but I can see if you’re the child in that situation you’re going to need all the help you can get.

Yeah, “Children of the Self-Absorbed” is definitely intended for the (now adult) child. An parent who isn’t damagingly narcissistic and loves (and by implication, respects and is tolerant of and understanding of) their child probably wouldn’t have a need for it, as you say – but I really wonder how many parents there really are who are like that? Maybe I just haven’t personally met any adults who take this view of raising children. Nearly everyone I know and have grown up with believes that they have to pre-emptively strike out any possible selfish or “bad” behaviour before it even becomes apparent, otherwise the child will run rampant. Of course, this just makes the child crazy and assures that he/she will indeed do just that – probably not in the presence of the parent(s), though, out of fear.

I’m sure that a very narcissistic parent or other adult wouldn’t get any use from this book at all, as in their view there’s nothing wrong with what they’re doing.

Nina Brown explains what she means by “underdeveloped narcissism”:

“Age-appropriate narcissism is a concept based on the notion that we grow and develop in our ability to become separate and differentiated people and that this is a process that begins at birth and continues throughout life. One way of illustrating age-appropriate narcissism is to think of the infant as self-absorbed, grandiose, omnipotent and all the other characteristics described as destructive narcissism for an adult. It’s ok for the infant and early child states, but not age-appropriate for adolescents and adults. When adults have failed to develop age-appropriate narcissism, this is termed as underdeveloped narcissism. These adults are still in an infant, child or even adolescent state as far as their developed narcissism is concerned.”

You wrote, “You know, I’ve just realised while writing this that all the times I’ve been overwhelmed by an emotional need as an adult that it’s a result of not being allowed to go through with my emotions as a child (and therefore have the opportunity to learn to deal with them). Is this taking a wider view of what you’re saying, or is this exactly what you’re saying?”

This is exactly what I’m trying to say! I notice this with myself so often now, and in those situations I can often remember specific events or themes from years before. I think your comment sums it all up: “our needs in childhood were never properly met.”

The way I see it at this point in my life, is that anything that’s not allowed to be spontaneously felt or allowed to run its course is bound to re-emerge at later times, in less-than ideal ways. Everything – from oppressed or suppressed feelings in childhood, not speaking out when boundaries are broken, not going to the toilet when you feel the need, not eating when your body tells you to.

I’m only just now learning to deal with my emotions – I realise now that I wasn’t allowed to express my feelings in the presence of the adults in my life – it just wasn’t safe to do so – and came to believe that it was also too dangerous to feel my emotions even when I was by myself, that they were so bad that I had to pretend they didn’t exist. Oh, boy – did that backfire!

I know exactly how you feel when you say you had a blinding moment where you saw how the theory applied to your own life… I’ve had a few of those in the last year or so – it’s just a shame that I don’t remember those moments and insights more often! Maybe I should write them down or something.

Anyway, I’m glad that you started writing again!

I suppose it could be argued that what you say contradicts what I have written but I think from a wider perspective if a parent deals with their child in a loving way then even if they think the behaviour is innapropriate they will still handle it gently and understand that childhood is a time of experimentation – which is the great thing about coming at problems from a loving persepctive.

In fact if the child is young enough parents are inclined to view the whole thing as very cute and be exceedingly indulgent – which is as it should be.

Mostly it goes wrong when (as you say) the parents have unresolved issues and treat the situation as if they were still a child, feeling threatened or jealous of their own children.

I love the title “Children of the Self-absorbed”, truly a book for out times! It’s theoreatically possible that if you’re an adult and simply love your children you mightn’t need help from a book like that but I can see if you’re the child in that situation you’re going to need all the help you can get.

I’m interested in that phrase ‘underdeveloped narcisissism’. It sounds like someone who never thinks about their own needs but I suspect you mean something else.

You know, I’ve just realised while writing this that all the times I’ve been overwhelmed by an emotional need as an adult that it’s a result of not being allowed to go through with my emotions as a child (and therefore have the opportunity to learn to deal with them). Is this taking a wider view of what you’re saying, or is this exactly what you’re saying?

Instead I had to wait until I left home and then spend my twenties with out of control emotions and learning to deal with them. By comparison with others in our society I would say that I have learned, by my late thirties, to handle them well (or at least repress them well :-). Perhaps though it is more sensible to compare myself to what I might have been like if I’d been parented more lightly – and then I might see that I fall short.

Apologies if I’m stating the obvious here, I just had one of those blinding moments where I was suddenly able to see how the theory applied itself to my own life.

Thanks

Basically, as you mentioned, when childhood needs aren’t met, things go wrong.

One of these needs is to be allowed to be narcissistic at certain stages in childhood. If that’s not allowed – if it’s not safe to express an attitude of entitlement (such as if the child is punished by a narcissistic parent for being “selfish”), then quite logically it’s bottled up and saved for later on in life, coming out in harmful, compulsive ways.

It’s worth a read, I think. It was for me, anyway – I’ve fairly recently realised that many of the adults in my life were/are very narcissistic in a very unhealthy way. This book has helped me to look at my relationships with these people in a more objective light, and also to realise that the problem wasn’t all with me… although I know that I have quite a fair bit of what’s called underdeveloped narcissism, that affects the way in which I interact with others.

Here’s a short review of it if you’re interested: http://www.mentalhelp.net/poc/view_doc.php?id=1778&type=book&cn=8

Another writer who I gained some helpful insight from is Nina Brown. A summary of on of her books, “Children of the Self-absorbed: A Grownup’s Guide to Getting Over Narcissistic Parents,” is here:

http://www.wmeades.com/id211.htm

So good to see you write again – I hadn’t checked your site since summer, so it was a nice surprise to see that there are a few posts on here.

You wrote, “It also talks about ‘good’ parents without defining what a ‘good’ parent is. I’ll assume their definition is our society’s usual one (they use the word ‘consistant’ after all) in which case a large number of things a supposedly good parent does (leaving their baby to cry is just one) are actually bad for a child and might explain a few of the issues they are discussing.”

I was thinking exactly the same thing, and also wrote Ran a rather lengthy email (child neglect and social ambivalence and/or casualness regarding it touches a bit of a raw nerve within me), then remembering that Ran’s linked to Alice Miller and Jan Liedloff in the past, and also due to the fact that he likes short & sweet pieces, I scrapped it.

Personally, when I feel as though I’m getting overwhelmed (or simply gagged) by smartly- (or smarmily-) written articles involving elaborate scientific theories (guesses), I re-read an Alice Miller book. I’m re-reading “Free from Lies” at the moment. She has such a way of cutting thorough the self-aggrandising pompous bullshit and polarised theories that are put forward by so many other writers on the subject.

So many times it’s gone like this for me: I’ve read a well-written article on a study or theory on depression or violence or addiction or suicide that has left me feeling a bit frustrated without really knowing why, and have spent a bit of time attempting to pinpoint what it is about it that’s making me feel that way. Then I’ll feel a bit burned out and possibly chastise myself for not being a bit smarter (“then I’d be able to understand and assimilate,” I tell myself), go to my bookshelf, open one of her books, and read a chapter or two.

Then I realise that it’s so simple: the intelligent article I’d been trying to make sense of was really a small, a bewildered person’s attempt to make sense of their own history.

I don’t think I can fully explain the impact that Alice Millers’ work has had on my understanding and ability to recognise harmful attitudes (including ones that that seem harmless) towards children and the way in which harmful behaviour later in life can be traced back to those attitudes, and on my increasing ability to understand the child in me that wasn’t given the nourishment that he needed, the empathy he didn’t receive enough of.

By the way, Alice passed away in April this year, in case you hadn’t heard.