There's something finally wrong with my aging, narcissistic adoptive father.

After twenty five years of quarterly trips to the emergency room for a variety of imaginary ailments, he's actually sick: all the most important arteries to the heart are more than 70% blocked and he's too old for surgery. So that explains the chest pains.

I'd always wondered, would I have any sympathy left if he were truly sick?

And it turned out I did. Turns out there were a couple ounces of untapped sympathy left...but the reserves are getting low, folks. Vapors.

I actually thought...Gee, now that things aren't looking so good...he actually seems nicer and we're getting along a wee bit better and ain't that nice.

Hah!

Now that things have calmed down and he's out of the hospital and out of the woods (for now)...and I'm slightly less solicitious...BAM...he's getting nasty.

And that's when I realized I'd fallen into the narcissistic web. Again!

IF he's getting lots of attention...
IF he's getting lots of sympathy...
IF I listen and do not attempt to impose any bit of myself, my views or my life...
IF I just make every conversation about him....

HE'S HAPPY. HE'S NICE. HE ACTS APPRECIATIVE AND LIKE HE LOVES ME.

But the moment - like last night - that I act the least bit distracted because I'm dealing with other stuff, he immediately turns on me.

Age does not soften the die-hard narcissist.

Repeat.

Emotional detachment still required.

And the nagging question that STILL won't go away.

Is someone like my a-dad capable of love? Did he love me? Or did he just NEED me? He could never SEE me...acknowledge me and my needs. And if a person can't do that, do they really love you or are you just being drained or cathected or whatever that scary word is?