Black Yarn. Erin Gibson. Colored Pencil on 8.5 x 11 in. paper One of my first jobs in high school was working in the office of a local campground during the summer. At that time, during the late nineties/early aughts, there was a clear gender divide between staff roles. There were maintenance "men," and office "girls." The maintenance men enjoyed the title of men, even though some of them were my peers. At any rate, one special summer, there was one of them that stood out among the rest. Maybe he was the new guy, he was different somehow - whatever the reason - it was decided that he would be given the least desirable tasks and that none of the others would be helping him. This meant that he had to apply a fresh coat of paint to the swimming pool in the glaring sun. After having enough of the harder chores and ridicule, he reached a breaking point. "I'm only one man," he said. And then: "I feel like a pin cushion."
This provided further grounds for contempt, and I heard the maintenance guys jokingly repeating this in the office. They also gave him the nickname Picasso, since he was talking about having painted the entire swimming pool all by himself. I'm not claiming to be innocent in all of this, I laughed along with everyone else. It was generally a fun place to work, and there was a lot of banter. That statement, though. I feel like a pin cushion. It struck a chord with me, and back then, I had no idea why. There was something about how he had been targeted, put into an impossible situation, and then shamed when he was triggered by all of it. By then, I was going to art school, but still working there during the summer. I had to do a project for video class, and I decided to appropriate the phrase in Featherhead. It was a performance piece in which I dressed in a faceless mascot head, with my body covered in feathers. There were two repeating phrases, "How much do you love me?" and "I feel like a pin cushion." The dizzying editing cuts created disorientation and confusion. There was a tension between the first phrase, which was self centered, and the second, which expressed some painful emotions. I was lucky enough to have a video professor who introduced me to Miranda July's work. Miranda July was doing video chain letter tapes for the Joanie4Jackie project, and I submitted my piece. Mine is listed here. If you don't have the VHS tape that I sent you back in 2001, you can contact the Getty Research Institute to view it. They also may be posting them on the Joanie4Jackie site at some point. Miranda July accepted every submission, and this was an unconditional acceptance into a community that I really needed at the time.
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Image: Witch Lantern. Lloyd Charles Lemcke. Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington. In the field of social work, there is an emphasis on using person-first language. For example, saying "person who has autism," instead of "autistic," puts the person before their diagnosis or disability. The purpose is to reduce stigma and dehumanizing language. There is a great resource here.
Since this blog is relatively new, I find myself grappling with language and terminology. If you are here, then you are likely aware that there is a multitude of content creators who are focused on the topic of narcissism and narcissistic abuse. How often is person-first language used in this context? I have not noticed it frequently. However, a quick search for tags on the topic through social media outlets will find that there are also a lot of upset people who are diagnosed with Narcissistic Personality Disorder that are attempting to get help, but are having issues due to stigma. Try #actually NPD, and you will see what I mean. I saw a suggestion to use "emotional abuse," instead of "narcissistic abuse." And to say, "abuser," instead of "narcissist." If we are going to use person-first language and avoid stigmatizing labels, would it be best to say "person who emotionally abuses others?" I think I would be generally be okay with that, it's just that narcissistic abuse is so specific, and so oddly similar across different situations, that leaving out the term misses something that could help someone figure out what is going on. On the other hand, it could be applied to other terms, such as saying "person who is scapegoated (or targeted, excessively blamed, etc.) by their family," or "child who was treated with favoritism and idealized." While it lacks brevity and ease of usage, it redeems itself by bringing back the person and removing the harmful label. This can even be healing when it comes to reclaiming identity after emotional abuse. Image: Courtesy National Gallery of Art, Washington Do you ever find yourself becoming triggered by watching a Disney movie, or another movie that is based on a fairy tale? When it comes to coping with dysfunctional family systems, the wisdom in these stories is undeniable. Though they are often changed for cinematic purposes, there are components that continue to serve the symbolic purpose of defining abusive family systems. The one that I would like to focus on today is the "Huntsman," from Snow White.
The Huntsman bears a resemblance to "flying monkeys," because he too is sent forth to do the abusive character's bidding. The Huntsman ultimately does not carry out the command. In a real life dysfunctional family system, I see the Huntsman as someone who may outwardly appear to comply with the abuser to appease them, but then turns to the person who is being abused and says, "Run!" The Huntsman may be a golden child who has awareness of what is going on, but is not really able to relinquish the throne due to being in denial most of the time. The Huntsman may also be a "lost child," or a mascot that has a sense that there is unfairness, but just doesn't want to confront the narcissistic parent (for good reasons). A mascot child may use humor to break the tension when pretending to carry out these commands from an abusive parent. This could look like dilution of the original intention, a sort of "softening the blow" through making light of it all. It's really not funny when someone is being scapegoated, but coping with this tension through the use of humor is like venting the toxic air in the room. Does this present a challenge in wondering whether you are dealing with a Huntsman or a flying monkey? I don't think it matters, because your response can be the same either way. Staying neutral, holding onto your truth, and keeping yourself safe remain top priority. ...and I don't mean the marijuana type. A golden goat is the unique dilemma of having been both a scapegoat and a golden child in a narcissistic family unit. Perhaps both parents are narcissistic, and each of them has chosen different children as their golden child and scapegoat. Or maybe this is a result of being an only child of narcissistic parents, and the child ends up playing both roles. However it happens, the inner cacophony and cognitive dissonance that follow lead to the same place: a split in identity that results in a fractured self and subsequent existential crisis. On one hand, there is a need to always perform to perfection. On the other, all accomplishments feel dull and unimportant. There may be a sense of danger emanating from one parent, while there is merely an artificial sense of safety from the other that is loaded with expectations. Take the feeling that you are all bad and all wrong (which comes from being chronically devalued), combine it with some impaired empathy and the belief that you can get away with anything (which comes from parental favoritism and preferential treatment), and the seeds of narcissism are planted within the child's developing personality. Wise Mind, a concept from Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), may have something to offer in these circumstances. Wise Mind involves reaching your wiser, intuitive self, by balancing your emotional mind with your reasonable mind. When someone is suffering from fractured identity or disconnection from the self due to narcissistic abuse, it is helpful to have a way to access one's authentic wisdom. If a narcissistic parent has projected an inauthentic identity onto the child, the healthy sense of self has not had a chance to grow and develop. Reconnecting with this true self, via Wise Mind, is a potential therapy concept to explore with survivors of narcissistic abuse. There are grounding techniques in DBT that can help with feelings of dissociation. In addition, DBT's Interpersonal component involves balancing the needs of self with the needs of others. The use of dialectical philosophy, or balancing and synthesizing opposites, is highly applicable in the case of someone who has endured being both a scapegoat and golden child, or as I have called it here, the golden goat. |
AuthorI am an artist and a social worker. Disclaimer: The ideas on this site are not meant to replace clinical care. If you are having a mental health emergency, please call 911 or your local Crisis Services provider. ArchivesCategories |