What do you call someone you’ve been describing alternately as a narcissist and sociopath? Someone for whom neither diagnosis alone quite suffices as a complete description of the individual, but rather in whom both disorders seem as if wrapped up in one menacing individual?
Pardoning my grandiosity for daring to expand the already crowded psychiatric nomeclature, I propose to call these hybrid personalities“narcissiopaths.”
While I don’t expect the DSM folks to take me very seriously (or anyone else for that matter), I’m thinking (unfacetiously) that there’s a case to be made here.
The narcissiopath, as I envision him (using “him” for convenience’s sake) will meet many of the essential criteria for both narcissistic and sociopathic personality. The closest extant clinical description of this disordered individual that comes to mind is the confusing term “maligant narcissist.”
Now personally, I find the term “malignant narcissist” wanting: for instance, precisely at what point does a narcissist turn “malignant?” And doesn’t this imply the concept of non-malignant narcissists who, by definition, must be “benign?” (I’m not so sure their partners would attest to their harmlessness?)
My concept, the narcissiopath, suggests very directly the personality fusion of narcissism and sociopathy in this particular personality. The narcissiopath is the individual who effectively conflates narcissism and sociopathy.
Let me briefly review these separate personalities—the narcissist and sociopath—in their more classical presentations. The narcissist is fundamentally a recognition-craver, a reassurance-craver, a convenience-craver, and an inordinate craver and demander of attention, catering and special status. He is in many respects insatiably needy emotionally.
At root, the narcissist is an overly entitled personality. He feels entitled to be accomodated on a pretty much continual basis. This begs the question, on what basis does he accord himself this right—to expect, that is, the continual accomodation of his needs and desires? The answer is, on the basis of his sense of himself as “special,” and his expectation that others—indeed, the world—will also recognize him as special.
Psychologically, a compensatory process often occurs with the narcissist. His “sensed” and “imposed” specialness is often a compensation for underlying and threatening self-vulnerability; and compensation for doubts about his power, worth and attractiveness—doubts that he is too immature to face squarely and maturely.
Although exploitation is not typically the narcissist’s primary motive, we recognize his capacity to be manipulative, cruel, deceptive and abusive; yet his darker machinations are usually secondary to his demanding, and sometimes desperate, pursuit of others’ attention and cooperation.
The narcissist is imfamously inept at managing his disappointment. He feels that he should never be disappointed, that others owe him protection from disappointment. When disappointed, he will find someone to blame, and will quickly de-idealize and devalue his disappointer.
Devaluing his disappointer now enables him to abuse her or him with more righteous indignation and less guilt.
For the sociopath, this is all much easier. Unlike the narcissist, he doesn’t have to perform mental gymnastics to subdue his guilt in order to exploit others with an unburdened conscience. The sociopath has no guilt to manage.
But the sociopath’s dead conscience isn’t per se what makes him sociopathic. Many people have weak consciences who aren’t sociopaths. It is his dead conscience in conjunction with his orientation to exploit that gets to the heart (really, heartlessness) of the sociopath.
The sociopath is variously a manipulator, liar, deceiver and violator of others; and he is these things less to regulate his unstable self-esteem than, more often than not, to enjoy himself, amuse himself, entertain himself, and take what he feels like taking in a way he finds optimally satisfying.
The sociopath, as I have discussed previously, is an audacious exploiter. His lack of shame supports his imperturbability, which enhances the experience of his audacity. The sociopath leaves one shaking one’s head at his nerve, his gall. One imagines that to venture the deception and outrages the sociopath pursues with his famous, blithe composure, he must possess a chilling callousness and coldness beneath what may otherwise be his veneer of “normality.” One imagines correctly.
Now sometimes we find ourselves dealing, as I’ve suggested, with individuals who seem, at once, to be both narcissist and sociopath, as if straddling, or embodying both disorders.
These are the individuals I’m proposing to call narcissiopaths.
For a good celebrity example of this, consider O.J. Simpson. Simpson, as his story evolved, was someone you found yourself confusingly calling a narcissistic personality disorder (probably correctly) in one conversation, and in the very next, a sociopath (probably correctly).
You found yourself vacillating between the two diagnoses because he seemed to fulfill important criteria of both. There was O.J. the narcissist: publicly charming, charismatic, disarmingly engaging and seductively likeable while privately, behind closed doors, he was tyrannizing Nicole Brown whenever he felt his “omnipotent control” threatened.
Simpson came to epitomize the indulged athlete: catered to all his life for his special athletic gifts, somewhere along the line he came to believe, with ultimately violent conviction, in his right to control and be heeded, not defied.
Simpson was all about “looking good,” about public show; in Nicole Brown he’d found a woman—a “trophy wife—”who could “reflect well” on him publicly, and on his “greatness.” She was also, tragically, the “perfect” choice to engage his narcissistic compulsion to alternately idealize, and then devalue, her; that is, to idealize the perfect, and then devalue the perfectly dirty, sex object.
In other words, in choosing her, Simpson chose well for his narcissism.
In the end, Simpson was as charming, ingratiating, and as shallow and superficial as so many narcissists (and all sociopaths) are.
But he was more than that. He was also callous, and brutally violent. He descended upon Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman like the knife-wielding devil he was, nearly carving Brown’s head off and massacring Goldman.
And then”¦he lied.
He maintained his innocence with outrageous brazenness, determined to win the next stage of yet another game. And where was the remorse? There was none; just his arrogant, insulting contempt.
Simpson had executed a miraculous performance. He had escaped from double-murder and the incontrovertible evidence of his guilt as improbably, as impossibly, as he’d so often escaped (brilliantly) opposing defenses and game-plans geared to stop him.
Finally, although I’d say that Simpson probably tilts, on balance, more to a narcissistic personality structure than not, he also possesses many of the most dangerous and essential diagnostic features of the sociopath. He seems, in other words, to be not entirely one or the other, but both narcissist and sociopath all in one.
I intend to flesh out the concept of the narcissiopath in future posts. And I look forward, as always, to your feedback.
(This article is copyrighted © 2009 by Steve Becker, LCSW.)
witsend,
These are the things that were different about my P child, from birth: the inability to hold my gaze, as an infant; a really distinctive, high-pitched scream, rather than normal crying; disinterest in outside stimuli; and disinterest in the breast.
At the time I misinterpreted these things as fragility, and treated him as if he were more tender and helpless than other babies. He seemed so tiny and full of such depth, with large dark eyes.
If I could go back in time, the one thing I know I would do differently is hold him more. In so much looking at what I might have done to cause this horrible disorder in him, I realize that he seemed happiest and most content when left alone. And so I realize now that I didn’t hold him as much as the others. He was so QUIET most of the time.
As the toddler years progressed, he was above average in learning to talk and walk–very advanced–but disinterested in life in general. He came to life, it seemed, only when destroying something. He destroyed all his toys. He’d empty out dresser drawers, just to create the mess, then walk away, disinterested again. He even tore up a twin size mattress with his bare hands.
I thought I had a kid with behavior problems, but I had no idea that it could get as bad as it did. I thought love conquered all.
It was only just before grade school, when I was updating his baby book, that I realized there were very few photos of people smiling, happy to be around him. Most other children avoided him. Even adults tended to avoid him. I redoubled my efforts to smile, to show happiness at his presence, to find something positive. Sometimes it was difficult.
At age three he had masterminded and carried out the removal of a window screen from a second story window, urged his older sister out onto the roof of the carport, and was about to push her off when I discovered them. Also about this time, he locked his sister in an abandoned car in some woods behind our house and refused to tell me where she was. I found her by following her cries. I thought it was bad behavior, sure, but I thought it could be corrected with enough patience. There were other violent episodes in later childhood.
Nothing worked. No reward for good behavior. No punishment. No appeal to reason or morality. Nothing, not even appeals to pure self-interest. “You will have an easier time in life if you do X or Y.” So he would do A or B, just from spite, it seemed.
In the grade school years, no amount of attention was enough. At the dinner table, if all eyes were not on him, he would spill something, or scream, or stand on his chair and demand “Look at me!” I joked that his middle name should have been “what about me,” because in any interaction between people, he’d push his way in and demand “What about me, what about ME!”
After third grade, his teacher left the profession, a nervous wreck. At this time, I left his father, convinced that my first husband’s mistreatment of this child had something to do with the bad behavior. (The first husband made a huge difference in how he treated the children, virtually ignoring this child, who resembled my side of the family, and heaping attention on the others, who looked like his side. As far as I know, there was no physical or sexual abuse. But there was emotional abuse, and I tended to favor this child as a way to compensate. It was a huge mistake. Maybe things would have been different if I hadn’t been so lenient with him, so patient with the misbehavior. I found it really difficult to spank this child, as opposed to the others, because he seemed so pitiful, so full of feeling, so physically small and thin.)
The first husband fancied himself a psychology expert, and he called this child a psychopath. I would argue with him. It was after the first husband said something so unholy and cruel to this child that I had no choice but to leave him.
It was at this time I was targeted by the P who wrecked my family and my life even further. At first, new husband P and child P got along famously. Behavior improved. Schoolwork improved. In fact, the teachers told me they’d never seen such a rapid and positive change in behavior. At the time I thought it was because husband P was a good male role model. Now I realize the two of them were playing roles, sizing one another up. Eventually they joined forces to “work” the rest of the family.
It wasn’t until about age 19-20 that I began to consider the possibility that my child might really be a psychopath. A friend, a special needs teacher, had textbooks that outlined the signs of psychopathy. I borrowed and read them. My child fit almost all of the criteria. Bed-wetting. Promiscuity. Stealing. Lack of fear (once he jumped off a bridge, and talked a friend into jumping along with him). The inability to learn from experience. He’d make the same mistakes over and over. The only signs he didn’t display were fire-setting and abuse of animals. But again, nothing helped. School counselors couldn’t reach him. I couldn’t reach him. Special programs like Job Corps didn’t help.
Lying and stealing. Just a lot of lying and stealing that continues to this very day.
Throughout this child’s 20s, I would share all my concerns with husband P. Unbeknownst to me, he would relay everything I said to the child P. (These are things I have found out only in the past couple of years.) There was criminal activity. They covered for one another. They hid things from me and the rest of the family. As a matter of fact, this child is filled with hatred for me precisely because I was able to get away from husband P with my life and my property. This child also hates his sisters, for telling about the sexual abuse.
Now this child is 30 years old. He’s been in jail. He’s committed robbery, financial fraud and God knows what else. I recently allowed him to stay in my home, as the family gathered to testify against ex-husband P. He ripped me off for a few thousand dollars, which I am only now paying off. (I had used up my savings to drive to another state and rescue him from the usual financial mess they all get themselves into.)
I wish I had a better story to tell you, witsend. I wish I had a happy ending to relate, but I don’t. After 30 years, I have come to the end of my hope for this child, and I leave him to God alone. If I caused him to be this way, I’ll pay the price in the next life. But for now, I know I did all I could.
Jeez, this is all too damn much. Really people, if I hadn’t lived this mess, I wouldn’t believe it myself.
EC:
I agree with your last post.
However, for me, I am still up to the ” healthy/anger” stage and I won’t pretend otherwise. (I don’t want to be like a woman I used to know at uni, she acted all serene ALL the time, but you could feel her anger bubbling away inside of her).
Of course, one of the people I am most angry at is me. You see, all my life I refused to believe it could be GENETIC. (Now I think that its a combination, ie, can be either /or or both). But until love fraud I would argue black and blue with EVERYONE, that it was ALWAYS because of the narcissists “terrible childhood”. I WASTED all of my life on that basic premise. I went back to each psychopath/narcissist time and again, even kept going back to help my brutal parents, (just like Escapee) for more torture. All the while I was thinking, “this poor. pathetic, psychopath/narcissist. I MUST give them another chance, because they have been through so much as a child…like ME”.
Lovefraud broke those chains for me . I suddenly could see ALL cluster Bs with X RAY vision. It was like being in training all of my life and then suddenly graduating overnight. And just with this one piece of knowledge: that a psychopath can be a psychopath through genetics, not only through mistreatment.
It was Oxy who finally explained it to me.. so that I finally got it. I needed her swift uppercut and then a follow thru with her skillet to get it thru my thick skull !!lol ( Now she usually has me arguing her point of view, and not even realising it!)
We are all so different on LF, and yet we are all survivors of extreme abuse. We need ALL of the different types to keep it the amazing, unique site that it is. You know, “Unity in adversity” an’ all that stuff.
All of us here keep each other on our toes and all of us are here for each other when we slip. Rosa has helped me so much she will NEVER even know it. Someday s I have been typing away and crying away on this site (which is a GOOD thing for ME), and suddenly I will read Rosa’s witty comments and just crack up laughing and I am back strong again ! I don’t know how it works but it does. Sometimes we all tease each other and end up learning a huge lesson that is invaluable.
I saw that happen with Henry and Oxy and Jim in Indy and a few others.
I’m assuming its pretty obvious, that I have felt like I have been “slipping” for quite a while, and some days I feel I have just barely got a grip, but as long as you are all still here, then I know I will be OK for one more day and i am in with a big chance.. ((((hugs)))))xoxoxoxoxoxox
Rosa:
I second the motion of drink throwing! lol!! xo
Tood:
My older brother pushed me out the window when I was two, six and twelve. I had lots and lots of broken bones during my childhood. My parents and my brother broke my left arm repeatedly. My father broke my mothers neck when I was five. I was there. She blames me. They are still alive and living together. She is a paraplegic. What is so wonderful about this?
I am alive and I found lovefraud.
PS: The paraplegic is the worst psychopath out of the three of them.
Dear Tood,
You did NOT “do anything to” cause your child to be like this, and secondly, you did NOT NEGLECT TO DO ANYTHING THAT WOULD HAVE SAVED HIM.
Your son sounds exactly like the children I have worked with in in-patient settings who were “conduct disordered” and who even at an early age would DEFY anyone to stop them. They are not motivated by praise, and they are not detered by punishment or consequences. It is like you can’t reach them at all.
My own P-son didn’t reach that “stage” until he was in puberty, he was not a shining P (except for one small episode when he was 11) in fact, peers loved him, teachers loved him, and I had little or no trouble with him. So when he reached puberty and started the P-criminal behavior and definance I thought it was simply “teenaged rebellion” when in fact it was the FLOWERING OF HIS PSYCHOPATHY.
I do know that I suffered a great deal of emotional pain before I finally came to the conclusion that you have and that is the only way you can cope is to cut them out of your life entirely and not “rescue” them no matter how they plead for your “help” or “I have changed”
Yes, they can team up with other psychopaths (like your X) to get away with stuff and share the glee with. Some of them like an audience, my P-son is one of those so he likes to tell his tales for attention—most are lies, but he tells them anyway to make him self appear more important, more successful and impress the other convicts—I guess it is better to impress another convict than no one at all. LOL
I wasted a lot of years trying to convince myself (with denial) that my son was not a monster, if I couldn’t “see” that murder in cold blood put him “over the top” I’m not sure what would have gotten me out of denial—I guess when he BRAGGED the last time I saw him face to face in a prison visit—sort of was like a bucket of cold-water-truth in my face that I could NOT DENY TRUTH ANY MORE—so at that moment, I got out of denial and saw what he REALLY IS, what he has been since at least puberty, and what he will be forever. Of course that then only made him try to kill me—what was so ODD about it all and brought back Dr. hare’s contention that they don’t get the inconsistencies in their words and their actions—one minute he was saying “But Mom, what would Jesus do?” and when he became frustrated with me, that was when he got the Satanic LOOK in his eyes and bragged about the murder, then PRESTO, just like a card shark palms a card in an instant, he went back to “But, MOM, what would JESUS do?” with the benign, pleading look on his face and in his voice.
That instant will forever stay with me in my mind like a mini-u-tube video where I actually looked into the EYES OF SATAN and saw the TOTAL EVIL there. The DESIRE to be evil and do evil, the total glee at being evil. It WOKE ME UP finally!
But we can’t “see” til we can see and we can’t act until we can SEE. I’m not beating myself up any more about it.
Oxy, I am so sad for you, when I read the posts about your son. As a mother, and knowing what I already know, I sure feel like the fact that P’s blood is running trough my son’s veins does take away from the joy of parenting him. When P took off the mask I saw Pure evil, the fire of hell, not just rage, vengeance, or anger. The sight remains in my memory as the worst I’ve experienced. The cold fear I felt was not anything I could rationalize. All mythology books and the religious books are full of beasts that we kill to save the humanity. These beasts sure have psychopathic qualities about them, but even the diagnosis “Psychopath” is not really in the professional books. It saddens me that it is us who “sound crazy” and others push away. I have given up on the fight and am rolling with the punches. I may have an option of involving my ex S in the drama (the ex my P “cured me from”). But, I am too afraid, even though part of me wants to let the beasts fight it out (in court, on the street, I don’t care). Oxy, is this a crazy idea? (sounds crazy even to me, but I must protect my child). Is this what the fight of good and evil is all about?
Dear PInow,
“Is this what the fight of good and evil is all about?”
Gosh, PI I wish I knew the answer to that one. LOL I do feel that there IS EVIL in the world, malignant evil in the minds and hearts of some people, and the damage that those people who embrace evil do to others is what has made this world, this earthly life sometimes HELL ON EARTH.
Just imagine for a moment, that there were no people who did evil acts deliberately. There were no theives, no rapists, no muggers, no liars, no cheaters, no violent crime of any kind, NO UNKINDNESS—every one on earth was good hearted, and helped their fellow man. No wars, etc. all politicians would be honest and work for the good of the people in their country. No one was an addict of any kind.
Now, let’s imagine further that we STILLL HAD HIV, Ebola, flu, cancer, accidents, and every kind of disease we have now, etc. but what would the world be like then? It would almost by comparison to what we have now be PARADISE ON EARTH.
Life itself isn’t really all that bad, but it is when yo ufactor in the PSYCHOPATHS and others who are evil intentioned or greedy, uncaring, selfish, or just plain mean that “life” gets ugly and complicated.
Just as even in the “Garden of Eden” a psychopath (Satan) slithered in to mess up paradise on earth, they are still with us in the form of users and abusers of every ilk and level.
If we are going to continue to live, we have to learn to LIVE INSPITE OF THEM, live around them, and still some how stay out of their reach, and to realize what is really important in this world. not an easy task, but I think I am finally starting to “catch on”—took me long enough! LOL
JEN2008,
What a marvelous healing insight you have shared. I believe it was Robert Hare, who on the flap of his book Without Conscience, stated something to the effect that we should have empathy for these creatures, although we do not allow them to occupy our space.
I am continuing to sort out who I am from the rubbish of the last 42 years of my life with this man. I am coming to understand that what I experienced when I was with him, or not with him and still trauma bonded, was in fact real FOR ME. My experiences, feelings, reactions, ways of perceiving, were me. For a time, I felt that when I found out the truth regarding who he really was, that I had lost myself and there was a deep chasm of a nothingness that made those years a void. What I am coming to realize is that although what I thought was real with him was not, it was MY reality at the time, and that now that I know better, I can make different choices based on the new information.
When I was with him during the last few months I would sense in him an emptiness – a pretending in him to appear to feel some way in which he could not feel. It seemed like he had a shell of a body with no way to connect or be real. He faked without feeling what he saw others feel or share to connect. I can’t imagine being stuck in a body with missing parts that will never allow me to experience what I see others able to do so freely.
While I DO NOT wish to ever allow him entry into my life again, I can choose not to judge something I do not fully understand. I can only choose to remove myself from the danger and try to put the pieces of my life back together. I was 19 when I met him, and I have had to realize that what I THOUGHT we had together was not so – but it was so for me at the time. Now, when I know to do better, I can grieve what was, or was not, pick up what is left of my life, and move forward. In my Christian faith, I can Walk in Newness of Life and ask God to bring beauty out of the ashes and Redemption out of the Death of the old. I believe there is Resurrection power out of all things and that in God’s economy, nothing is wasted.
I still feel the trauma in my soul, but I imagine the Holocaust survivors do so likewise. Yes, that makes me vulnerable, wounded, real and continuing my Pilgrimage to the Promised Land. I know I will never be left alone, and that this experience can make me bitter or better.
Tood,
I don’t know how to even thank you for telling me your painful story. I certainly hope that I didn’t ask you to share something that caused you more pain to do so.
You are a very inspiring lady. I have always read all your post. I can “feel” your wisdon, your truth just by reading your words.
It is very helpful for me to understand what mothers have seen in their own children when raising them to help me to shed some light on what my own situation is. I still struggle to make sense of where my son would fall into on the spectrum of disorders/illnesses.
In my situation I did not see signs of excessive troubling behavior in my son when he was a young child. However in looking back (hind site) I can come up with a few things that trouble me now. (and back then as well)
Colic. He was a colicky baby and cried alot, especially at dinner preperation time. So of course I held him alot. BUT I’m sure I was stressed when I was holding him. Not only because of the crying but also because his father (he was alive then) was an alcoholic and alcoholics create stress. (this was before he went into recovery)
I know holding your baby alot should be a good thing but in my case I am wondering if it was a bad thing because of the stress.
Another thing was, and this always made me wonder, is every day and I mean EVERY day my son asked me, “Who do you love more? Me or ****? (the blank was my older sons name. He was approx 5 or 6 years old when he started asking me this question. (his father was dead by this time) Every day I would answer….(often with a gesture of affection like a hug) I love you both the same. Sometimes elaborating on how “loveable” both he and his brother were, sometimes just the simple “I love you both the same”.
His brother was 10 years older, and my youngest always seemed to adore his brother….Because of their age difference there wasn’t the usual “sibling” competitiveness between 2 brothers. When the youngest was 5 the oldest was 15. So they didn’t bicker with each other alot as brothers often do.
He asked me this question tirelessly on a daily basis until he was about 10 years old. I wondered did he ask the question because he can’t “feel” the love given to him on a daily basis?
Or was it simply validation? But to ask that question for several years? Every day?
At first I didn’t think so much of the “question”. He was a very inquisitve child and asked lots and lots of questions about EVERYTHING. Many questions of which I couldn’t even answer. Or thought provoking questions for his age. The questions always kept me on my toes because he didn’t accept the “easy” answer. It was always met with another question. WHY IS THE SKY BLUE? So many things that I just accepted as “being as they are ” he questioned all these things. He challenged my brain all the time by asking questions I didn’t know the answer to. (at a young age)
He also took apart (& consequently broke) many of his toys. To see how they worked I suppose. He taught himself to read (I take no credit) before he was in kindergarden. All I did was read to him and he started to sound out the words himself and started to read the books to me. We had magnet letters on the fridge and he would sound out words and spell them on the fridge. His sunday school teacher was amazed that he could read so young. She was also the principle of the first school he would attend.
It seemed to me that he might be above average intelligence for his age but it also troubled me somewhat that he could not accept anything for its “face value” (for lack of a better wording) He could never just accept the toy for what it was and enjoy “playing” with it….He had to take it apart and in doing so break it. I chalked it up to his inquisitive nature.
The other thing he did display early on was that he was fearless. Zero fear of anything. He was actually somewhat of a clumsy child. It didn’t deter him.
Another thing that he did when he was very young is he couldn’t “contain” himself from something he found to be exciting. If he was invited to go to his little friends B-day party (or whatever it might be) on the weekend by Thursday or Friday he would have himself so worked up looking forward to this that he would be sick. I mean throwing up sick. Often times sick enough where he couldn’t go. This repeated itself enough times that I finally didn’t INFORM him ahead of time if we were going somewhere or if he was invited
somewhere, until the last minute. This seemed to solve the problem but I wondered why or how he could work himself up so bad to get an upset stomach almost every single time?
It seemed he couldn’t “delay” his pleasure?
Back then I didn’t see it that way but now I wonder? I might add that he was not a hyper active child. He had his “hyper” moments when he was playing with a bunch of other kids, he could get wound up sometimes, but overall he wasn’t what I would percieve as hyper active. My older son was much more hyper active.
Over all he was a loving child. He and I were close and spent lots of time together. He did display affection and often practically sat in my lap (darn close) when we would watch movies together or kids TV programs. He loved playing with other kids. He played sports in elementary school. He did well in school. His teachers liked him, his peers liked him etc. Other than the things I mentioned above that all seemed pretty “normal”.
When he turned 15 years old I felt that is when he did an about face. He started lying. About almost anything and everything. He stoped playing sports. He went from being a good student to failing his classes. He became very manipulative. He passes blame. He has control issues. The rules don’t apply to him. He feels entitelment. He has very distorted thinking. He doesn’t seem to percieve that there are other people that might have opinions or their own way of seeing things. (even on the level of his own peers) There is his way (the right way) or the wrong way.
He has calculated how to approach his counselor both in school and his therapist and has lied effectively (for a time) to get them to believe he is this poor misunderstood child. Until recently, when he cornered himself in a lie with the school counselor, I think she really thought he was in a bad situation at home. When he got caught in this lie he had a huge melt down and she saw a side of him that he had not presented before.
He has definately not ever learned anything by his mistakes and punishment OR positive consequences for his actions have never worked either.
I have come to a few conclusions about this. When he recieves a positive consequence he feels so entitled to this anyways that he does not connect the dots….Positive behavior = positive consequences. When he recieves a negative consequence for his behavior he still doesn’t connect the dots. HE is ANGERED by any negative consequence and doesn’t see past the anger. He feels entitled to whatever he wants and the negative consequence is taking away his entitlement to do what he wants to do.
He reacts the same way if he gets a negative consequence at school. He hates the teacher after that, it is all their fault, he is angry and he will do worse in that class than he did before the consequence.
This is where I am at currently with my son.