narcissists, thy name is …


While reading up on hypochondria the other day, I came across an expert who said those inflicted are often narcissists.

I am inflicted.

I am a narcissist.

It’s true, and I hate it. I certainly don’t think I’m great. I mean, I hate much of what I write; I’m not wowed by my looks or my talent or my non-journalistic abilities. I’m well aware there are more skilled people all over the world, etc … etc.

And yet … I have the thinest skin imaginable. I want to hear the critiques, yet I can’t often stomach them. Some unknown guy rips one of my books, and it stings. It really stings. Then I wanna respond; write back; have a dialogue. Why? I’m not sure—but it irks the hell out of me. Hell, maybe that’s why I have this blog. To get feedback; to respond; to have conversation about, well, me, me, me, me, me, me.

Man, that sucks.

I ran this by my wife, who said, “You’re a quiet narcissist.” I asked her to elaborate. “You check your e-mail a lot.” True, I do.

Anyhow, the first step is awareness. The second … not sure.

Good babble, though. Good babble.

** On a side note, I loved this. Fallon has been terrible, but not here.

3 thoughts on “narcissists, thy name is …”

  1. Long live Saved by the Bell! That was one of the funniest segments I’ve ever seen, if only because, sadly, I got every single one of the references.

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