Once again, my ex was furious and directing it at me. Something had gone wrong with the house and he was angry and annoyed. I asked what I could do to help, knowing he was relying on me to somehow make it better. “Don’t ask me that, you don’t mean it,” he growled with barely controlled rage. For the first time in this dynamic, instead of apologizing and assuring him I did want to do something and trying my hardest to make him feel better, I actually took a beat (and a breath) and realized I was done being his emotional punching bag. Instead I said, “I did not do this. I am not the source of your anger. I did nothing wrong. If I do something to you, you can be angry with me. Otherwise, this stops.”
Narcissists are notorious for not being able to emotionally regulate.* Their uncontrolled (and often unexpected) rages, bad moods and blame are a big part of why targets all too often feel they need to walk on eggshells around the narcissist. Many targets attempt to de-escalate the situation by taking on more than their share of responsibility, apologizing, and doing their very best to anticipate and avoid things that set the narcissist off. This is a strategy that is imperfect at best, but at least it is something.
But what about the things that set the narcissist off outside of the relationship? Work stress, house and car breakdowns, issues with the children, and basically the whole world and its many complications and annoyances? While obviously you can’t control those, many narcissists expect that you will do your best to help with the situation, talk them down, provide comfort, and overall sooth their distress.
In other words, be their emotional support animal.
Now, I myself am a big fan of emotional support animals — that is, in animal form. They can help so much with things like PTSD, anxiety, and depression, as well as many other physical and psychological issues. And many dogs, cats, horses (just to name a few) have an energy, what we might think of as a purpose, to help people (and even other animals) feel better and regulate their bodies and emotions. (I have to mention here that there is a growing community of folks who work with horses in both coaching and leadership as well. Awesome stuff.)
It’s also important to note that there is of course a healthy leaning in to each other for support. It is natural and human to reach out to one another when we are stressed or upset. But when a person feels that it is somehow your job to regulate them (and this is not particularly reciprocal), then you are being asked to be their emotional support person and this is not fair or healthy. Good relationships don’t involve one person being the other’s on-call therapist / coach / security blanket.
Most narcissists also reject the idea of them seeking outside help, such as therapy or coaching. After all, that’s your job. And this is the crux of how they see you–in relationship to them, not as a person with your own needs, ideas, accomplishments and goals.
And so, if you feel like your relationship requires you to be the one to keep your partner regulated and on track, you may be dealing with someone on the narcissism continuum — especially if they get angry when you ask them to get some outside help. You are not here to be someone’s emotional support animal. You are here to pursue your life and make it shine.
*There is some evidence that those with high trait narcissism may carry a genetic modification that impacts serotonin (the MAOA-L gene, also called the “warrior gene”). One of the functions of serotonin is to help modulate strong emotions. Those with this gene don’t get the same serotonin response and thus have a much harder time recovering from stressful events. This manifests as rage, obsession with revenge, and an overall disregulated personality. Almost all (maybe all) psychopaths have the warrior gene, but research shows it is also prevalent in high trait narcissism.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Ann Betz is the co-founder of BEabove Leadership and an expert on the intersection of neuroscience, coaching, trauma and human transformation. She speaks, trains and coaches internationally, and writes about neuroscience and coaching as well as relational trauma. Ann is also a published poet who loves cats and rain in the desert. She has a bunch of emotional support cats but likes her human relationships to be much more reciprocal.
But Now I Know Your Name 