From "depression and grandeur" by Alice Miller: [literal translation from Hebrew translated from German, so not like the English version]:
"The grandiose person wins admiration everywhere, needs this admiration and cannot live without it. Everything that s/he taken on him/herself must be performed impressively, and indeed s/he knows how to obtain that (because if s/he doesn't, s/he would not take on the task at all). He himself also admires his qualities: beauty, talent, successes and achievements. It is terrible if one out of the above does not bring the expected result, since a heavy depression lurks in the doorway. When sick or old people, who have lost a lot, or menaupausal women become depressive, this seems understandable. But there exist individuals with a different personality, who withstand the loss of their beauty, health, youth or loved ones, while still grieving, yet without depression. In contrast, there are talented people - paradoxically, the most gifted - who undergo deep depression. It seems that a person can be free of depression when the roots of his self-worth stem from his emotional authenticity and not from an ownership of certain qualities or traits [....] Also with his friends and companions (including partners), the grandiose person's involvement and investment are narcissistic. The others exist to admire him and he is always preoccupied with the effort to obtain that admiration. This is a manifestation of his tormenting dependency. The trauma of childhood repeats itself: he is still mama's admired child, and yet he feels that as long as his qualities and traits are those that win him admiration, the love that he obtains is not directed at his own self".
I couldn't have said it better myself...
I have been so disappointed with P. all day. No text or skype call came through, and only an email late at night, which was, I felt, completely vacant. I don't want to paste it here, but it did not start with hello or how are you or whatever, and it was condescending. Admittedly, I brought it on myself in asking him to please regard my last email to him (in response to his emails; but he had already left when I sent my emails).
I feel so f(l)at. It is so hot outside, the air is standing still. My clothes are tight around my expandig body; I don't want to go to sleep so as not to wake up heavier. I have been eating nervously, vehemenently(?) all day. Smoking too. Feeling like a volcano. I read more of that book. There is so much in it that I can identify with, but no solution. And it's too late. I haven't posted anything or communicated with anyone in a useful manner, and I feel hurt by P. and unable to tell him exactly how his attitude hurts me, because I feel/fear he will walk away, and there where will I be? So I can only paste here the email I drafted in response to his laconic reply, for now.
"i am disappointed. you don't ask me anything about me and don't tell me anything about you. you write me after 4 days and expect and immediate answer when you reply, you expect me to always be there. when i don't reply when you want me to you ask me to write, but when i write you don't acknowledge anything that i write you, and i feel like you don't really pay attention what i write. you said that you wanted to skype today. never mind. you also sent me your mobile number, but when i text you you don't reply. and when you write back you apologize. i don't need that. i don't need to know that you miss me, and nothing more than that. you do make me feel like a stupid little girl. but what can i do. obviously you are judging the situation well. you humor me. i wish i didn't have this fucking disease, and i wish i didn't live in xxxx".
That's how I feel; the whole week, and probabaly much longer, has been building up to that. But I am unable to say Hey! You said we would skype today! and why don't you ask me how I am at all, or tell me anything about you. It is not his fault that I have been sitting on my butt eating for a week, and he has come back from 3 days on the beach. He can't know that, because when I wrote him it was after the one night that I did meet a friend, just that once, and go out.
I guess I could call him, but I imagine that he will either not be available on his mobile, or will be dining with his family, who will laugh at him, and he will be cold and aloof and resent my calling. So the only thing I can do is leave him be. It's like my hands are tied.
I also resent that he apologizes again for not checking emails. I resent that he knows it doesn't make me feel good, but goes ahead and does it anyway, but that's the way he is. I resent that this whole dialogue is between me, myself, and I. At least I was able to vent to C., who was also depressed. She says (I didn't ask, but she said anyway) that she thinks P. loves me, but is scared to admit it. Great. Here's what I wrote her:
"Hi C.Checking your email I just got a reply from him, FINALLY.I am just tired of the whole thing. I am tired of him asking me all the time if this is love. You know they say: when there is doubt, there is no doubt.I am tired of him thinking (and being right!) that I will always be there, b/c I have no other choice.I am tired of him thinking about himself all the time, and me not being able to do anything about it. If he says he should call, then he should. If he doesn't email me for 4 days, and doesn't even read my emails, he should not send me an email at 4.00 a.m & then badger me the next day at 9.00 if I haven't replied yet, b/c he is leaving. And if he asks me to text him, he should fucking text me back. But all these are just symptoms. I am not able to handle it and be mature and patient anymore. I will keep to myself for now.Anyway, I do not obviously blame him for my shitty circumstances, but I am tired of the whole thing.Love you C. Tomorrow is a new day, and you don't always feel like this. In fact it's rare that you do. We must both remember that".
That was after I got his curt email. Before that, I wrote her something even harsher:
"Hi C.Sorry you feel that way. Really.well, you are not the only one.I have had it with P., I am just going to lay low till I get my revenge. he doesn't care about me, all he cares about is himself, and he is unreliable. I wish I wasn't in Israel, although I wouldn't like to be in the NL now either. I wish I didn't have this fucking disease. I am going to start looking for something better online again, and when I find it I will let him go. He is not treating me right. Sorry, catch you tomorrow maybe".
She wrote back that of course I have a choice, and I know, intellectually, that she is right, but I somehow don't feel that way. Somehow I have buried myself in this rut, and P., annoying as he is, doesn't have a clue, his is so preoccupied. and admittedly, I am hurt, and after spending my energies on him, and composing him that long email about him and his family, and addressing all his questions and anxieties about love, I am not thinking about him at all anymore, unless it is a narcissistic reflection of myself I see in him. And that's why I don't call him, asides from not wanting to be the last to call. I know I should start screening him and disappearing on him, that always works, but I hate these fucking games, yet they seem to be the only thing that works with guys, or maybe it's just the time passing. When I show understanding and respond to his needs and anxieties, even though they terrify me, I get F all, all I get is distance and removal. Even when he writes that he misses me, he kind of reluctantly half-admits it, making me feel as though I coaxed it out of him, and he is only forced to write that to relieve me of my pain. Yet I know, that if he didn't feel for me, he wouldn't bother at all, it's just that right now it feels as though he only half bothers.
I really really resent that my mood is so dependent on him. In this he is right (if that is indeed what he is thinking).