Narcissists need a constant supply. A supply of what? Narcissistic supply – a consistent flow of adoration and attention from those around them. To them it is like a drug. The supply is the most legal form of a drug. The supply are people that are nice and try to make others feel better about themselves, help people with their problems, generous, etc. or people that are having a rough time at life at the moment and can make the narcissist feel better about him/herself.
I have been that supply and what is worse I have been a consistent supplier to some and a casual supplier to others. I have been the consistent supply for my mother and for Marian. I am currently the casual supplier to some of my friends / frenemies.
As a casual supplier I have been sought out by others who know that they can get double the price. I get contacted by these friends only when something is not going good in my life. I recently became unemployed due to a work permit issue when I moved to another country. I have been unemployed before and I know something will come up. One of my frenemies seems eager to see me and hang out with me when things are not so good in my life. We have known each other for 4 years and we only live 2 hours apart…but of course her eagerness to see me is heightened during the down times in my life. She needs her casual dose and she has made contact with a non-preferred supplier.
What is the saying…knowing is half the battle…I know now and I am prepared to hear the comments about my weight, my language skills, my job situation, my friends, etc.
I leave this post with her (Peggy’s) most fabulous comments over the course of our friendship:
My boyfriend had lost a lot weight and this was the first time Peggy had seen him. Peggy says to me…’that is so great he lost weight, so did you lose weight too? (before I could answer she says again) I just can’t tell if you have by looking at you, you’re wearing that big shirt and all.’
Peggy and I are sitting at a restaurant, I go to order (in a language that is not the mother language of Peggy or me)…The waiter asks me to repeat and I repeat and he still doesn’t understand me so I just point to the item on menu. The waiter asks Peggy for her order…and the waiter has no problem with her. Peggy says to me, ‘I ask I don’t speak the language with an accent like you do.’
All I can do is laugh…I am officially a drug dealer…