I’m Abi. I’m 29. I’m a mom; a wife; a writer; and a closet narcissist, according to my therapist. I’m not entirely sure what she means by that, but it has something to do with the my need to quietly prove myself to everyone around me, the way my self-worth is all tied up in the appearance of perfection. I always think I’m right. I’m afraid of bank tellers. I always feel like I’m seconds away from being discovered as a little kid who’s play-acting at adulthood. When I find myself in uncomfortable situations (which is often), I use absurd, often inappropriate humor to diffuse the tension, which generally results only in making things more awkward and uncomfortable.

I write about my life; what else would you expect from a closet narcissist?

My old blog, I’ll Get You, My Witty (and your little blog, too), houses everything I wrote from September 2006 to February 2009.

Update, March 2010: It seems a lot of people come here after googling “closet narcissism,” only to find that this is most definitely not some sort of psychology information database. If that’s what you’re after, or if you just want to understand a little better how my mind works (and who doesn’t?), this is a good explanation of closet, or “covert,” narcissism – and by good, I mean of course that it adequately applies to me (even if it is written in Comic Sans).


Contact me at err_apparent at hotmail.com.



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