How to Escape a Narcissist’s Conflict Pyramid
Welcome to a make-it-or-break-it article.
I don’t say this to be cocky; I say it because the concept of this ‘Conflict Pyramid’ had a lot of puzzle pieces fall into place for me, personally.
Likely, if you’ve clicked on this, you know what a narcissist is (defined in the DSM-V as someone with a pervasive pattern of grandiosity, a constant need for admiration, and a stark lack of empathy).
Perhaps you’ve even recognized a family member or friend as exhibiting narcissistic traits and/or behavior patterns, and I’m willing to bet that you’ve been through some scuffles leaving you wondering:
“Why did that argument start?”
And later:
“Why do I keep getting myself into these arguments?”
They become such potent, unsolvable, absolute questions that we feel as if we’re going crazy. The fact is that we’ve been caught in a narcissist’s Conflict Pyramid (or Drama Triangle, depending on your inclination).
Psychologist Stephen B. Karpman developed the Drama Triangle as a model of destructive human interaction, specifically in social relationships; it’s been used generously to explore different roles people play during conflict and the behaviors associated with them.
According to Claire Jack, Ph.D., the role of Persecutor “particularly suits the narcissist”. Bullying, passive-aggressive snipes, and general nastiness grace the narcissist’s forte of tactics in bolstering a fragile, chaotically unstable sense of identity. Persecutors dominate the situation, yelling the loudest, battering others emotionally or physically in order to cause and perpetuate conflict.
The Victim role, Ms. Jack states, is often reserved for the ‘vulnerable’ or ‘covert’ narcissist, a more introverted, ‘neurotic’, and relationally withdrawn version of the typical, grandiose figure we’ve come to know and have an extremely difficult time to love. People in the Victim role project helplessness, an inability to change or alter life circumstances, and pervasive blamelessness to anyone and everyone around, shirking responsibility and deflecting as the go-to 1–2 punch.
Lastly comes the Rescuer role. When narcissists identify someone as — in their eyes — weaker than them, they pounce. Outwardly appearing like a pillar of moral excellence is, for them, a worthy pursuit, and one that satisfies a chronic need for attention.
It’s important to keep in mind, though, that everyone plays these roles in one way or another.
You and I are just discussing how they manifest in the context of narcissists and unhealthy relationships.
I’ll give an example now; let’s say that Person A and Person B have been friends for a couple of years. Housewarming visits, birthdays, the whole nine yards — until one day, by chance, Person A finds out that Person B likes oranges.
It’s a shocker.
Person A has been a strict apple-eater their entire life. They’ve grown up on the orchard and seen them flourish, small red buds expanding to form vivid, colorful bunches of fruit. They jump when they see the Fijis in the produce aisle. They’ve gone apple-picking, in flannel, with the family.
So, to find out that Person B likes oranges as a passing thing, Person A is enraged. Under the pretense of a hangout, Person A invites Person B over and — when they arrive — blasts them with accusations, questions, and passive-aggressive to plainly-aggressive statements about their like for oranges.
In this situation, Person A, who is a grandiose narcissist, cannot handle Person B’s difference of opinion, even on something so seemingly insignificant. An underlying fear of ‘losing’ Person B pushes A to become the persecutor and expend much effort in an attempt to control the relationship (which, as it turn out, has been the subtle dynamic of the ‘friendship’ the entire time).
Person B, naturally, becomes confused over the emphasis on this oddly specific point of contention. These types of differences never mattered to B, but voicing that truth is only met with more barrages of aggression from Person A.
Feeling hurt and cast in the Victim role, B has remained in the argument for a little while, enduring the brunt of the attack at a complete loss for explanation. That’s when they see the situation escalating and decides to leave, getting in the car and driving home.
Trying to make sense of what just happened has B conclude that Person A must not really care for them, after insulting and degrading them over something that really shouldn’t matter in the context of a deeper relationship.
Person B decides to do better and move on. They don’t text, call, email, or carrier pigeon Person A, but the next day, B’s phone blows up.
It’s Person A, begging them to ‘take them back’, saying that Person B is their favorite person in the world, that they’d never want to offend them, etc., playing the part of Victim. They want Person B to be the Rescuer and re-enter the relationship — even though A has shown they value neither B nor the trust they shared before “the incident”.
B tells A that they need space. The ambush has taken a toll on their perception of, and reconciliation with, A. Having effectively removed themselves from the situation, B decides to focus on personal growth instead of continuing an unhealthy dynamic with A.
This loss of control over Person B makes A frustrated, their manipulation tactics rendered ineffective; they become angry once again and now see B as a Persecutor that (rightfully) refuses to engage in Narcissist Games.
One day, A shows up on B’s porch — like if that scene from Love Actually was a nightmare — and, violating B’s boundaries as a self-imposed Rescuer, offers to rekindle the relationship and attempts to re-establish contact.
Here, B can play any of the three roles.
As a Victim, B allows themselves to be manipulated, begrudgingly re-entering into the toxic embrace of someone who attempts to control and gaslight them.
As a Rescuer, B offers to solve A’s obvious problems and insecurities through a new-on-the-surface, same-on-the-inside relationship.
As a Persecutor, B returns A’s initial hate-fueled fury and chases them off the porch, screaming.
As an empowered individual, however, B can opt to view the situation objectively and access the moment’s truth; A never truly cared about or valued B as another party in the relationship.
B was always an extension to A — that’s why an affinity for oranges threw A for a loop, as B was always supposed to be unquestioning, totally compromising, codependent in similarity to what A represents internally.
B can move on, finding someone that truly values and cherishes them without infringing on or invalidating their own interests, autonomy, likes and dislikes — really all fancy phrases for “sense of self”.
I hope that long-winded example sheds some light on what it means to remove yourself from the Conflict Pyramid of a narcissist.
Your job is not to save them, solving their problems; to condemn them, exposing their every fault and flaw; or to allow them unrestricted control over your thoughts, emotions, and actions.
Unfortunately, I know that some don’t have the luxury to take my typical advice here — which would be to cut this person off, end the relationship, let dust and ashes return to whence they came.
I’d like to tell those individuals that you are not alone, first of all, and that I have a strategy for you. It’s difficult, and it could make a narcissist around you try even harder to claw, hit, and spit for a reaction. However, it may help in setting a boundary for what you will and will not respond to.
If you can’t physically distance yourself for someone, try this: leave them to deal with their own emotions.
Don Miguel Ruiz described personal attacks perfectly, as “emotional poison”.
When the narcissist in your life shoots you a poison dart, it’s enough to show restraint in non-reaction.
Choosing to withhold your truest, genuine, and healthy — that’s right, indignation at this type of disrespect is healthy — feelings is never easy, and if done over long periods of time, leads to a nasty habit called suppression.
Sometimes, you have to display clearly your limits to specific individuals.
How and when you do this is completely up to you.
I just hope this article offered some insight.
Thank you, and I wish you the best of luck.
— Anthony
