Narcissism’s definition in psychology: selfishness, involving a sense of entitlement, a lack of empathy, and a need for admiration, as characterizing a personality type. The disorder's symptoms: looking down on others as inferior, fragile self-esteem, mood swings when criticized, overly boastful, monopolizing conversations, when expected importance is not given to them, results in easy disappointment. Complications that follow; disturbance in home, school and/or office relationships.

I’m no psychologist or doctor, but when finding about this disorder, and reading into the simple diagnosis breakdown. It was hard to stray from the thought that my sister could be suffering from such symptoms and me being a direct example of the disorder's complications. It was very interesting to say the least, before coming up with the title of this memoir moment, it was more or less a joke, but then realizing, it could be more of a ‘funny, but sad and true’. Unfortunately, we might never know if she’ll actually be diagnosed with such a disorder, nor do I really care, and also just because people who most likely suffer from NPD don’t actively seek specific help for it because they don’t see a problem, for themselves at least.

Selfishness: the quality or condition of being selfish; lacking consideration for others, concerned chiefly with one’s own personal profit or pleasure. My ex sister always took matters into her own hands when things got hard for the family. In most cases, that action is viewed as honorary, but in retrospect, the case with her was nothing of the sort. I remember she did this when our mother died, all decisions that were made were hers and only hers, if someone had something different to add or change, it was always a resulted no from her. Years later, it was always something she could throw in my face and our dads as well, “Who did everything for mom's funeral? Who picked out the headstone? Who did the invitations, wrote the obituary, picked the cemetery site, chose the coffin? Me.” Her, her, her, always her, always made an excuse for her behavior because she was my sister and also all those questions and the answer she had was true, but a selfish truth at the end of the day.

Entitlement: the fact of having a right to something. I am adopted, I found out later in life, 12 years old to be exact, short of a year before when my mother passed away. Was very much a raw subject during the time because I had so many questions and no answers about my biological family. I remember being at a family dinner at my ex sister’s house shortly after our moms funeral. I really kept my emotions to a minimum when it came to people other than my dad because of the fear of being judged, or to be told it wasn’t the time nor place for all that. I decided to try and open up to my ex sister about how much I missed my mother, she very bluntly said to me, “I don’t know why you’re feeling sad and crying this much about her, you didn't spend as much time with her as I did and also, she’s My actual mother… Not yours.” It was a fact, I thought she had the right to say that and something that I won’t be able to change.

Empathy: the ability to understand and share the feeling of another. After that night, it was clear she lacked any for me. She criticized every move I made on social media, dismissing the sad posts I made about losing my mother and resulting in calling me selfish and saying I was a disgrace to our last name with my social media presence and behavior. When our brother decided to tell me at a holiday dinner that same year, that my opinions don’t matter and will never matter, she quickly dismissed and told me that his statement was excusable and justified.

She loved to look down on me and make herself feel inferior by constantly reminding me that I was the child and she was the adult. When she would attack me on social media and I would not only be defending myself, my friends would too and then she would call our father saying that her self-esteem would shatter because it was so fragile from all the loss and hurt that I was causing her. He then would tell her what she was doing wrong and that she needed to act better, mood swings across the board whenever that would happen; impatient with my behavior and wanting it to improve, angry that I didn't show up to family gatherings anymore, depressed because our mom is never coming back. Seemed that monopolizing her own and others' conversations was her favorite. Always would overly clapback about her achievements of having a family, husband, money, love, tons of cars. The ability to not care about me, also simultaneously spread rumors that I was having sex, doing drugs, alcohol at 14 years old and then later in life saying I was a rapist, the boasting was beginning to be intolerable. I never deemed her to be an important figure in my life, at least after when my mom died and I would on more than one occasion let her know that and her disappointment would continue to be permanent, easily.

This tale is more or less for me though, to not only make myself feel better, but also to lay it all out and hopefully forget that she ever existed. She’s already left her mark on my life, for better and worse, grown from her blatant insults, how she’s never been in my corner starting from an adolescent age, but made me believe she was, the whole time, what do y'all think?