conversations with bitchelle

conversations with bitchelle

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conversations with bitchelle
conversations with bitchelle
a literal anxious narcissist

a literal anxious narcissist

only narcissists will relate

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michelle
Jan 06, 2025
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conversations with bitchelle
conversations with bitchelle
a literal anxious narcissist
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in 2025, i will try (keyword: try) to master the art of caring about others.

trigger warning: you may hate me, but you’ll relate to me. and yes, some of this is satire and exaggerated for dramatic purposes.


i don’t think i invented the term “anxious narcissism,” but i’ve never heard it before, so let me explain. hopefully, by the end of this piece, you’ll relate to me or at least understand me a bit more. or maybe you’ll just think i’m a bitch.

This may contain: a woman standing in front of an explosion with her hands on her hips and looking at the camera

anxious narcissism, in my mind, is when your anxiety is so loud and all-consuming that it drowns out everything else—including the ability to focus on other people. for me, some conversations are so anxiety-inducing that i just… don’t ask anyone about themselves. it’s not that i don’t care; it’s more like my brain is too busy spiraling to remember to ask follow-up questions.


we’re all friends here, so i’ll admit it: i rarely ask people about their lives. if you want to tell me something that’s plaguing you, i’ll a hundred percent listen and even give advice. but do i follow up? not really.

honestly, maybe what i need is a new folder in my notes app filled with literal reminders about people’s lives so i can follow up. fun thought—but is anyone doing that for me? i don’t think so.

on another fun thought: maybe this is just part of growing up—realizing we all have our own lives and priorities. i’m not going to be a hypocrite and start texting people i don’t actually care about to ask how they’re doing. if they want to text me and tell me everything about their lives and problems, as i’ve said, i’ll listen with my whole heart. but my life doesn’t revolve around anyone but myself (fineee, and my family, husband, some friends, and dog), and i think that’s ok.

was that mean? maybe. or maybe it’s just realistic. not every relationship is meant to be a deep, reciprocal connection.

speaking of connections—i’d still consider myself an extrovert. let’s face it, i’m not nearly nice enough to be labeled an introvert. but in recent years, since being diagnosed with anxiety and (trigger warning!!) depression, my patience has been thinning. i don’t feel the need to fill up the silence anymore. if someone’s uncomfortable with it, so be it.

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