One of the Silliest Questions Anyone Could Ever Foolishly Ask a Narcissist

And it’s the reason a narcissist makes us feel crazy

I’ve just had my first baby and days out of the hospital the pain is overwhelming. My sister stops by to see us. She’s a nurse so I pepper her with questions.

“I thought I would feel uncomfortable for a while but I’m in excruciating agony,” I say.

My sister begins asking me questions and tells me to call my doctor.

I’m put on strict bed rest for the next month.

I’m not allowed to do anything but walk back and forth to the bathroom. The hospital had been overwhelmed with deliveries the day I had my son. They placed me on a non-maternity floor.

It was my first baby I didn’t understand what normal post-delivery care was.

I didn’t receive it.

Making matters worse, I had a second-degree laceration after a difficult birth. I now had a severe infection that was at risk of rupturing. In that event, the doctor said I would potentially need to be hospitalized for a month.

They put me on medication.

And I prepared for weeks of bed rest.

We placed my son’s cradle beside my bed and lined up my sisters and mother-in-law to take certain weeks to help care for the baby and me. My husband would not be taking off any time.

I felt bad that anyone had to be inconvenienced on my behalf.

But I began to look forward to anyone who walked through my bedroom door.

A few weeks into my bed rest, my husband says he is going golfing. I don’t mind because again, I feel terrible that I am in a position of need. I’m not alone. His parents are at the house with me.

But when he returns I am now incredibly annoyed.

“Really?” I say.

“What?” he says.

“You said you were going golfing,” I say. “But you leave at 8 a.m. and you return at 6 p.m. Where were you all of this time?”

“We went golfing,” he says. “And then we had something to eat and drinks.”

“You have a baby with jaundice and a wife who can’t get out of bed for anything,” I say. “You haven’t taken off even a day of work to help. Instead, other family members are doing that.”

“I said I was going golfing,” he says.

“Yes,” I say. “But you were gone nearly double that time.”

“My parents are here,” he says.

“Yes,” I say. “But you have a two-week-old baby and a wife with a severe infection. Maybe you shouldn’t have wanted to go golfing in the first place. Especially, since other people are inconveniencing themselves for us. How can you do that when you know I need help to do nearly everything?”

My husband is unphased.

He thinks I’m overreacting.

I’m not.

I’m still in a significant amount of pain.

I don’t like taking painkillers but I have for nearly two weeks. I’ve rented a hospital-grade breast pump because I hope to nurse my baby again. Even though the pediatrician has told me after a month of formula that may not happen.

A few days later I hear my husband and in-laws laughing in the kitchen.

They are eating dinner.

One of my friends stops by to visit.

“Why are you eating alone?” she asks.

“I feel bad that anyone has to bring me food, to begin with,” I say.

“Are you kidding me?” she says. “This is awful that you are up here and they are all laughing in the kitchen. Your husband should keep you company while you eat. You’ve just had a baby and you’ve got an infection.”

What I don’t tell my friend is she’s right.

Even I’m surprised by their continued laughter while I sit alone in pain. It makes me feel isolated. As if they did their duty and placed a plate in front of me and off they went.

I say something to my husband.

“How come you didn’t think to have dinner with me?” I say.

“What are you talking about?” he says.

“How come you don’t care I’m restricted here all day?” I say.

My husband is unphased.

The longer we are married, the more I ask a narcissist the same question.

The silliest question you could ever foolishly ask a narcissist.

Before I tell you exactly what it is, let me explain how my marriage progressed.

“Why wouldn’t you want to pick me up from the hospital? This is our second baby and I want you to pick me up?”

“How could you let our children cry for twenty minutes while they ask you to turn the car around and pick up their mommy? All because you left for the beach without me because you were mad.”

“How did you go away for a week and never once think to call me? We have young children.”

“Why won’t you go to the hospital to see your Mother? She’s in her eighties and she’s been in the hospital for nearly a month.”

“How come you don’t call your Father? He’s getting older and you should want to talk to him.”

“How could you not love our dog enough to shed a tear?” A stranger could see a dog put to sleep and cry.”

“Why won’t you help our son with sports and play with him? He says he wants to make the team.”

“Why won’t you skip the opening day party? We have a family obligation.”

“Why won’t you go to the hospital with me? I’m scared that our baby is having surgery?”

“How could you expect me to go away with you? My mother is dying.”

“How could you leave me in a restaurant because you were mad at me? And not feel embarrassed that another husband had to drive me home.”

“How could you not have bought one thing for me? The kids were sad there wasn’t a present for their Mommy under the tree.”

“How could you not have been worried enough to come home from work early? Your wife and three children were in a double impact car accident.”

I foolishly continued to ask a narcissist this question.

The silliest question you can ever ask a narcissist.

The one that by definition makes us feel crazy while loving a narcissist.

“Why don’t you care?”

We ask this question over and over again. We ruminate on it. We ask it in a multitude of ways. We ask in a variety of situations. We ask it until we are exhausted by it.

We beat a dead horse.

We just don’t get it, especially since we care so much.

A narcissist doesn’t care.

A narcissist will never care.

It’s what makes us feel crazy.

A narcissist’s lack of empathy prohibits any degree of self-reflection or the ability to feel the pain or feelings of another human being. A narcissist will only feel their own wants, needs, desires, worries, and pain.

But we beat our heads against the wall.

We do everything and anything to get a narcissist ‘to care.’

I’ve spent more than a decade in the counseling and research of love, relationships, divorce, and narcissism. I left a diagnosed empathy-lacking narcissist on the severe end of the spectrum.

Narcissism is extremely complex.

But there are exhaustingly simple tenents that accompany it.

We just can’t see it while still entrapped by the narcissist.

We don’t understand why we’ve fallen in love with this charismatic individual who is suddenly cold and cruel and doesn’t care. About anyone or anything.

A narcissist will disregard our feelings and our tears.

A narcissist will disregard our worries and our words.

A narcissist will disregard our hopes and our dreams.

A narcissist will disregard us.

A narcissist doesn’t care about us.

They care about themselves and the role we play in their world.

It’s as simple and as sad as that.

But a narcissist attaches themselves to people who do care. Someone who won’t disregard them. Someone who won’t give up on them. And someone who loves them enough to keep playing in the narcissist’s world.

And keep asking them the silliest question you could ever ask a narcissist.

“Why don’t you care?”