Still, I Stayed

A Living Memoir

by Roger French

Preface

The notecard that I had positioned prominently on my desk as a daily reminder said, “GET OUT.” So, for once, I did. I had no way of knowing what I was getting into.

This is the story of my life after COVID-19 hit us all like an oncoming freight train. It involves mermaids and pirates, a major Hollywood studio production, a stabbing and a narrowly averted mass shooting, an old-school thrash metal band, political corruption, tarot readings, an epic flood, and witches doing spell work under the full moon. The story also hints at far darker things.

It sounds like a fish story, to be sure—difficult to wrap one’s head around, even for me, who lived through it. Putting it in words is part of my processing. Part of my healing. As I sit down to write, the ending is both unwritten and unknown. The telling is part of the tale.

Prologue

Let me begin by making an important distinction between Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD), which is the official clinical diagnosis for a persistent pattern of behaviors as defined in the DSM-5, and narcissistic traits, which exist on a spectrum and do not necessarily meet the criteria for NPD. For emotional self-defense, however, it’s the toxic behaviors that matter.

In this writing, all discussions of narcissistic behavior have to do with how it relates to emotional wellbeing, not diagnosis or treatment. In fact, to accuse someone who exhibits narcissistic behavior of being a narcissist can trigger narcissistic rage up to and including violence. A true narcissist is capable of saying or doing anything to maintain control of a situation. They are not bound by morals or truth. Seek help if you feel like you are in danger. While other mental health conditions can be the cause of some of these same behaviors, it is safe to say that healthy, balanced people do not normally act in this way. Caution is warranted when dealing with people you may suspect of being toxic or narcissistic. Ask me how I know.

When I eventually came to understand the dynamics of narcissistic behavior—through the lessons of emotional pain—I was shocked. It was not because I felt like I had seen the face of manipulative, predatory evil. I was not shocked to see clearly just how prevalent—and destructive—such behavior is. I was not even surprised by how many times I had fallen for it in my life. I was stunned to learn that suffering at the hands of toxicity is entirely preventable. That the established pattern is crystal clear, well documented, and there is rarely any deviation from it—toxic people just cannot seem to help themselves. In a very "why don't they teach this in schools?" moment, what saddened me most is the realization that the pattern is easily teachable—as is the solution. The pain was preventable with just a little knowledge, all along.

What is the solution? It is simple: there is none. There is no cure. Treatment success is extremely limited, and motivation for change rarely comes from within. One more chance is not going to change them. In my personal experience, pleading, begging, reasoning, accusing, bargaining, being more patient, or giving the benefit of the doubt are all futile. There is but one course of action: close your mouth, do not make eye contact, and back away slowly. Recognize that any energy you put into the situation from that point onward will only extend your misery. Unfortunately, sometimes the only way to protect yourself is to slip away before anyone notices you’re gone. Remember that your safety is paramount above all else.

(Insider tip: in toxic relationships, at some point, as part of their manipulative tactics, they will often push you away in the hope that you will pursue them. In that case, all you have to do is stay where they pushed you to. This can often be the least confrontational exit. If physical separation is not possible, learn and use the technique of “gray rocking.”)

The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-5), which is the standard reference used by mental health professionals, states that “Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) is a mental health condition characterized by a pervasive pattern of grandiosity, need for admiration, and lack of empathy.”

The DSM-5 goes on to say that to meet the diagnosis of NPD, an individual must exhibit at least five of the criteria from the following three categories:

Grandiosity

• Has a grandiose sense of self-importance (e.g., exaggerates achievements and talents; expects to be recognized as superior without commensurate achievements)

• Is preoccupied with fantasies of unlimited success, power, brilliance, beauty, or ideal love

• Believes they are special and unique and can only be understood by, or should associate with, other special or high-status people or institutions

Need for Admiration

• Requires excessive admiration

• Sense of entitlement (e.g., expects special favors and automatic compliance with their wishes)

• Interpersonally exploitative (e.g., takes advantage of others to achieve their own goals)

Lack of Empathy

• Lacks empathy, does not show concern for the feelings of others

• Is envious of others or believes others are envious of them

• Displays arrogant and haughty attitudes and behaviors

Additional relational patterns commonly associated with narcissistic behavior include:

• Superficial relationships

• Difficulty with intimacy

• Sensitivity to criticism

Chapter 1—2020 is Hindsight

My 2020 began with the unexpected death of my all-time favorite musician and lyricist, Neil Peart of Rush. It was the first time I ever cried over the loss of someone I had never actually met, even though we had occupied the same space and time on eight or nine occasions.

I have never really been much of a fanboy of anyone or anything. I had instinctively never made externalities a part of my identity. Hobbies, teams, causes, brands, idols, slogans—from an early age, I understood these nouns to be transitory. I was never much of a bumper sticker kind of guy. That seemed like overoptimistic commitment. Along with my seemingly heightened aversion to physical pain, it was the reason I never got any tattoos. That would have been too much of a limitation to place on future iterations of Roger.

However, Rush was different. Starting with Signals as a junior in high school in 1983—both the album and live performance at the Lakeland Civic Center—and continuing through the incredible R40 retrospective in 2015 in Tampa, which turned out to be their farewell tour, Rush wrote and performed the soundtrack of my life. There was an album for every significant era. I often said that if I ever were to get a tattoo, the first one would have to be Rush-related. When Neil died, the impact was visceral. I felt unexpectedly abandoned in a way that was difficult to pinpoint. Or express. Then the world went into lockdown.

Some took up baking bread, sewing, learning an instrument, or giving alcoholism a go. Having the benefit of experience from an earlier failed attempt to reach escape velocity in an old school bus that I converted to run on waste vegetable oil, my pandemic project was hyper organization, miniaturization, and mobilization. Putting everything I owned into meticulously labeled bins on wire shelving racks. Every item was carefully selected for size and utility. It all had to fit into a 6-by-12 dual-axle enclosed trailer that I planned—and purchased the equipment—to turn into a stealth RV.

The world was falling apart. As an IT professional whose primary duty was foreseeing, preventing, and mitigating disasters, nothing about the future seemed reliably knowable. High functional adaptability and portability were my Swiss Army Knife of readiness. “Be Prepared,” the Cub Scout motto, was my mantra. “Prepared for what?” was the unanswerable question. So, I prepared for everything, or so I thought. All that I knew for sure was my life was not going to be the same. I did not want it to be. It could not be. In hindsight, I was correct about that part.