For my Favourite Narcissist, money was King of The Trifecta: money, fame and power. Money was the one he could most easily use to manipulate those around him. Starting with his kids. Money and it's cousin, stuff, were the measure of love. When I made the impertinent decision to become Christian, the natural result was for money and stuff to be withheld and, of course, their will to be rewritten.
Money was used to keep me in the narcissist's world. When I decided to get a job the summer after I turned 16, you'd thought I had abandoned them in their hour of deepest need. The truth of the matter was by controlling my purse strings, the narcissist exercised control over me. My narcissist had no problems giving money, and he knew all too well the power it gave him.
Correspondingly, the strings attached to the money were many. Anytime my narcissistic father felt the need to work, I had to work. For him, there was
always more work to be done. Sitting, resting, or doing anything but working while he worked was shameful and certain to elicit at least one comment about being lazy. In the unfortunate event that I was watching television, the comments were more ugly and likely to be combined with the television being turned off or the channel changed. Of course, he'd do this just for fun, too.
Money played a big role in guilt, too. The chorus of "after all the things I've done for you..." often involved the spending of money for something. The message was clear: I gave you these things, now you must do fill-in-the-blank.
Another function of money was to enhance my narcissist's image or gained power. If my narcissist could be seen owning or spending money on something good, by people whose respect he sought, then nearly the sky was the limit. Of course, money could be spent for the narcissist's pleasure alone, but there were always opportunities for the narcissist to let it slip that he was at The Very Post Restaurant last Friday, or that he saw World-class Performer at the symphony/opera/theatre.
Even as I became older, money and expensive gifts were the elastic that kept the family together. In a truly odd way, I was paid to be the child my parents wanted me to be. A paid acting job, if you will. (Hey, I wonder how I work that into my resume?) It likely would have worked for years longer, too, had it not been for befriending someone whose family did not operate the same way mine did.
And, speaking of gifts, with the narcissist involved, gift giving occasions were a painful chore. Literally anything he wanted, he had. With gifts, it was never the thought that counted, either. If he didn't like it he simply looked at it, grunted, and set it down. Gift giving occasions are so much more fun now that the pressure is gone to find something interesting, unique, functional, impressive and not ridiculously expensive that he doesn't already have.
In the end, literally, the narcissist's focus on money was likely one of his biggest disappointments. No amount of his money, or prestige, or power could do one thing to cure or comfort him. He'd worked years to make money to get what he wanted, gain power, prestige and a retirement in which to spend them all-- a retirement he never lived to see. King Money, it turned out, was the wrong master to serve.
