Narcissism: The Chilling Case of Sonia K.

Narcissism is often used in today’s society, but many do not understand what true narcissism entails.

There are maybe two or three times in the career of a clinician that you will encounter a truly chilling case. 

For me, the first one came during my novice years as a clinician. To this day, I ruminate on this case. It has remained trapped in the memory box of my clinical encounters.

It was a chilling experience of the shape-shifting power of a true narcissist.

The Case Unfolds

Sonia (name changed to protect privacy) came in for grief counseling. She had unexpectedly lost her husband to suicide. He had shot himself in their kitchen while she was at the grocery store. 

At our first meeting, Sonia presented as the grieving widow, awash with pious grief, sadness, and an ever-present weight. Sonia was soft spoken, demure, and pensive. She was shocked that her husband, whom she loved, had chosen to end his life. She had not seen it coming. Their two adult children were shocked, too. It seemed unexplainable, a mystery.

Sonia maintained an appropriate visage of grief and attempted to “move on.” She described a marriage where her husband avoided her and isolated himself. I made a mental note that this seemed strange, given her apparent soft, caring nature. She described the years of raising young children: extracurricular activities, car naps, staying busy. She loved every minute, she said.

Things Weren’t Adding Up

Now, her adult children were “distant” and hard to reach. Her son was available only via texts to his wife. Her daughter had set aside one night a week when they could try to walk together. Strange, I thought, given her apparent caring nature and love for them.  Core pieces of her story did not align. Maybe it was just others in her life who didn’t appreciate her, I thought. 

As my practice grew, I noticed I had several clients who had tragically lost spouses. I decided to try my hand at a grief support group. Sonia seemed like an obvious participant. I had ten participants, all of whom seemed to need a space to unload the heavy loss and trauma they carried.

The Truth Became Clear

The first meeting of the grief group was held on a sunny Saturday morning. I was nervous but excited to create a safe space for healing. Participants filtered in and claimed a seat. A circle formed, and off we went. Opening introductions, nods, and hmms, and all the appropriate exchanges.

Until… Sonia, in an awkward moment, began to chastise a fellow group member, who had lost his beloved wife to cancer. She admonished him for not trying harder, for being weak, and for not moving on. She was harsh and unrelenting. In a moment that, for me, felt like a slow-motion car wreck, I was hit with the clinical bolt of lightning that Sonia was cruel. She was unfiltered, unrestrained, and antagonistic.

The group member she admonished shut down and stopped sharing. The others looked down at their shoes. I was clammy and dry-mouthed. This was not good.

How did I undo the hurt of her words? Maybe she was nervous, and this is how she coped. A part of me tried to hold on to that hope while another part of me knew the truth. 

I threw out a fresh conversation starter, hoping to create a way to move forward. Sonia jumped in immediately. She spat out a strong opinion and halted any group participation. The wheels were coming off.

The Truth Came Out

We muddled through the remainder of the hour. I knew the group was dead in the water. I was stunned and speechless. I reached out to my supervisor, and together we put the pieces together. Sonia was a narcissist. The misaligned pieces made sense now. The adult children who kept her out of their lives and the husband who ended his life–it all made sense.

Her husband chose death rather than enduring another day being berated and shamed by his wife. The children silently blamed her. They knew the truth, as children always do. And I vowed to etch this into my clinical memory wall. This twisted revelation. This bait and switch. This was my first real-time experience of a narcissistic personality. And it was chilling.

Getting Help for Personality Disorders

Fifteen years later, I think about this case often. I choose to remember this case to keep me on my toes. To remind me that all is not as it presents. To look underneath the hood of the car. Sometimes personality disorders hide beneath a veneer of normalcy, which can be crazy-making to partners and families. This was my introduction to the complexities of personality disorders. What became apparent to me in this experience is how important it is to have therapists and clinicians who are trained to recognize the signs of personality disorders, who can help those who are afflicted (and their families) navigate the shoals of disordered thinking.

For more information about Narcissistic Personality Disorder, visit this site.

Bianca Milliern, LPC, works in our Plano and Frisco offices and is also available for virtual sessions.