What's an uncomfortable truth you've learned to accept?

You get what I'm saying. That cold, soulless, uncaring bullshit that seems to ooze out of every other asshole you meet. I used to rage against it, curse it, and look down on those empty shells of humanity. But somewhere along the line, in my relentless hatred of this indifference, I lost my perspective. I became what I fucking loathed.

It’s a lie I’ve bought into, a toxic delusion I’ve nurtured. I’ve convinced myself that my awareness of my own darkness somehow makes me superior. But let’s be real: what’s more horrifying? An indifferent person who feels nothing, or someone who actively cultivates hatred and spite? I’ve aspired to something far more sinister than mere indifference. I’ve become a creature of pure malice, masked by a veneer of self-righteousness.

This is the uncomfortable truth I've learned to accept: I am not just a part of the problem, I might be the worst kind of problem. And the bitterest pill to swallow is that deep down, I still believe I’m better than those I condemn, even as I drown in the very darkness I once fought against.

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In my mind, indifference used to be the ultimate sin, the mark of the truly lost. But now, I’m forced to reckon with the fact that my hatred, my active, burning hatred, might just be worse. At least those indifferent souls have the decency to not give a damn. I, on the other hand, am an engine of malice, churning out spite and bitterness with every breath. Even mundane activities, like casually kicking a stray dog or pretending not to notice an elderly person struggling to cross the street, become exercises in resentment and silent judgment.

It's like every ounce of my vitriol, my fury against the world's apathy, has turned inward. And instead of battling the indifference, I’m wallowing in it, sinking deeper and deeper. I see their blank stares and lifeless expressions, and I know I’m starting to wear the same goddamn mask. Just yesterday, I found myself smirking with satisfaction as I watched a homeless man struggle to pick up the coins he'd dropped, the same way I'd watched him every day without a hint of pity. But the truth, the horrifying, uncomfortable truth, is that in many ways, indifference is tame compared to what I’ve become.

You want the real uncomfortable truth? It’s that in many ways, indifference is tame compared to the seething cauldron of hate that I’ve become. I’ve aspired to a level of malevolence that makes mere indifference look like a saintly virtue. I’ve stared into the abyss, and it’s stared back, recognizing a kindred spirit.

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I’ve judged these people harshly, convinced myself I was above their emotional vacancy. But as I look in the mirror, I see the evil I’m capable of. I see the spite, the grudges I cultivate in my soul like a farmer tending to his crops. I’m not just indifferent. I’m vindictive, malicious, and hateful. The other day, I deliberately let the market door close on a neighbor struggling with groceries, just to enjoy the brief flicker of defeat in his eyes.

An uncomfortable truth I've had to choke down? Here it is in all its gut-wrenching, soul-shattering horror. I'm a deeply hateful person, and every damn day, I’m morphing into the very thing I despised the most: human indifference.

So here I am, a person trapped by my own hatred, desperately clawing at the walls of my self-made prison, all the while convinced of my moral superiority. It’s a sick joke, a dark irony that I can’t escape. I judge the indifferent for their lack of feeling, yet my own feelings are so twisted, so venomous, that they’re a thousand times more poisonous.

Why are most people broke?

At home, my frustration knows no bounds. Every mundane chore becomes a battleground. Sometimes, I walk through the park, stepping on flowers just to watch them wither under my feet. I take perverse pleasure in anonymously snapping pictures of random people at their worst moments, catching their pain and frustration as they fail or fall, hoarding these images as twisted trophies of my superiority.

And then there's the time I stalked a pretty girl on the street. She was walking ahead of me, completely unaware. I snapped a picture of her from behind, relishing the power I felt. As I got closer, I touched the back of her thighs, feeling a sick thrill as she flinched and hurried away. I felt an obscene pleasure from that brief, perverse contact. And here’s the thing: despite knowing all this, despite staring my own malevolence in the face, I still think I’m better than them.

So, there it is. The brutal, uncomfortable truth. I am the very monster I’ve despised, sinking ever deeper into the darkness I claim to fight against. And the worst part? I still think I’m better than the indifferent masses, even as I plot and stew in my own hateful bile. Last night, I spent hours online, anonymously spewing venomous comments on social media, delighting in the chaos and hurt I could cause without ever showing my face. That’s the reality I’m struggling to accept. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the evil I see in the world is staring back at me from the mirror.

Hi everybody! I have been looking at posts on narcs and narc abuse on here and if has really helped me out a lot. I am currently struggling with my situation and need some advice/support. I met a narc last year, everything seemed to good to be true. Love bombing, always texting calling and taking me on dates. Everything changed when someone warned me about him out in public in front of him and who he is. This caused a conflict with us and the love bombing seized. he would tell me that everything is okay and i can come and talk. He would set a time limit on me and kick me out after that. he would then text me like everything was fine and we hung out again and after that he completely ghosted me for one week. He came back and texted me a week later laughing about the ghosting and acting like nothing had happened. he continued to text me ( not like in the beginning) make plans with me, then on the day of the plans he would just ghost me. One day he would act interested the next silence. i contacted him a month later and he acted like nothing happened. He was on a vacation and sent me a picture of another woman ( someone he allegedly met on the trip) to strike a reaction but i never gave him one. After the trip he came to my place and was extremely rude, accusing me of going on dates with a bunch of men. The next day he accused me of being an alcoholic and that he wanted nothing to do with me but said well maybe we can be "friends" then ghosted me i assumed at this point it was over and i would never hear from him again. He contacted me on the holiday a month later acting like everything was great. We ended up hanging out a month or so later and when we hung out it went well, i thought things were going in the right direction. after we hung out.. silence. I would try to text him and if he replied it would be very short then he just stopped replying. He ghosted me for almost three months. I thought he was done this time and of course he popped up again like nothing happened. At this point i was getting sick of if so i questioned him as to why he dissapeared and always does this. Of course he had some sob story about a injury and family member dying of cancer. I felt pity for him and he gave me an apology.. so i took him back stupidly. things seemed to be going smooth for a couple months, of course until his family member died and his injury got better he never contacted me and was distant. Menawhile, i was there for him during the difficult time for him. He lied to me about the funeral and never wanted to chat. I was chasing him and he would always claim nothing was wrong but when i said i thought he used me when he was down he could not handle it and would always tell me he didnt care and to go away. I would get so upset i would try texting him to work it out he would barelt respond and if he did he would not be nice about it. we did hang out a couple times after that, he would ignore me after. One day i was like hey i think you are seeing someone else, and i was like well ixam seeing someone so no problem if you are he said " buy bye good luck with your new guy stop contacting me" i was devastated and tried to get into contact with him for weeks then i just gave up and accepted it was over. He ended up contacting me a month later acting like everything was fine. He wanted to go out and have drinks i told him i would. He and i both seemed to have a great time. He ends up ignoring me again. I kept texting him trying to figure out what was wrong. He kept saying everything was fine and i said ok can we hang out again? He said maybe i was like why? He just kept saying maybe … our last conversation we had… i said what is wrong ? He said nothing is wrong everything is fine. I asked him why he keeps saying maybe. He said " maybe but i dont want to see you right now" i said why? He saix " im just not feeling it, if i wanted to date i would" i said why did you contact me less then a week ago wanting to go out? He said i didnt.. even though he did. So i said should i just move on or what? He said whatever you want to do. So i said that he was really confusing me and asked him if he had anything more to say before i move on? My messages were turning green so i panicked he blocked me and reacted irrationally. I said " omg did you block me? My messages are not going through. Even texted him on my work phone asking what was up. And called him twice ( please dont judge me i know it is pathetic i never was this type of girl before him) so he replied and said " Ok I'll block you now" then immedietly blocked me. He has never blocked me before since I have met him he will just ghost. Is this ths final discard aka " grand finale? Did i just push him too far? this has upset me so much its hard to even function.