The 12 Labours Of A Narcissist

The popular belief is that narcissism has no cure, that even if a narcissist wanted to change, they would fail. Since their pathology developed during their formative years, the narcissist simply has no hope. You cannot teach an old narcissist new tricks, it seems. Once a narcissist, always a narcissist.

And yet, my mind still wanders on occasion. Observing the narcissists in my circles, I imagine what it would take. Sometimes my inner psychopath smirks, and considers dropping an LSD tab or ecstasy pill in a narcissist’s coffee. There’s no way they could remain unchanged after that, surely?

Once I’ve had my chuckle, I return to less criminal thoughts. My neurodivergent mind sharpens again while making unusual connections. I find myself thinking about Hercules, or ‘Heracles’, as the Greeks called him.

Although he’s barely narcissistic, there’s enough in Heracles’ story to make me suspect that his heroic journey could offer a blueprint for a narcissist to heal.

The Labours Of Heracles

In the Greek myth, Heracles was the illegitimate son of Zeus. Zeus’ wife Hera despised her husband’s infidelity, and often took revenge on Zeus’ offspring.

Fast forward to adulthood, and Heracles is happily married with children. He comes home one day, yet doesn’t find his family. Instead, he is met by a pack of beasts. His infamous anger erupts, and he murders the animals, just before Hera’s cunning spell ends. Heracles is horrified to discover that the beasts were in fact his wife and children disguised.

Heracles is overwhelmed with grief and guilt. In ancient Greece, murdering your kin is a great sin. And so Heracles, through a series of events, is forced to undertake ‘ten labours’ as atonement, with each challenge demanding a superhuman effort from our great hero.

The labours of Heracles included slaying a lion, defeating a multi-headed hydra which grew two new heads for each one removed, and even at one point had Heracles holding up the weight of the entire world on his shoulders. Is this what I am demanding from the narcissist to ‘atone’ for their sins?

In a way, yes, I guess I am. Some of the labours I’ll be suggesting might feel as difficult as slaying mighty lions or carrying the weight of the world — at least for a narcissist.

So what would these labours look like? And what effect would they even have? Let’s take a closer look:

First Labour: Be Present

For a moment in time, the narcissist will need to forego their ego. No thinking, no fantasising about how awesome they are, no seducing their prey, no escapism; only pure focus on the present moment.

For this, the narcissist needs to sit upright in silence, alone, and pay attention to a single point with their eyes open. Every time they dissociate, or become lost in their thoughts, they must return their focus to the same point.

What arises from this exercise is a momentary escape from the warmth of the narcissist’s false self, leaving their True Self exposed to reality. In this unprotected, present state, the narcissist’s repressed trauma, shame and grief simmer to the surface, threatening to devour the narcissist whole like a vicious lion.

Can the narcissist withstand this challenge? Even for twenty minutes?

Second Labour: Listen Fully

While speaking to someone, the narcissist must avoid the impulse to interject with an unwanted analysis or braggadocious story of their own. Thinking of their response is not allowed until after the person is done speaking. The narcissist must only listen, and use the gift of presence they earned during their first labour.

This second labour is symbolised by Heracles’ slaughter of the flock of Stymphalian Birds gathered by a lake. The birds represent the narcissist’s busy thoughts, and the lake is a symbol of the unconscious. By shooting their thoughts with the ‘arrow’ of presence, the narcissist clears their unconscious mind, allowing them to listen fully.

Third Labour: Offer Support

This labour involves the narcissist offering help to someone in need — with no expectation of payment or reciprocity, as were the conditions placed on Heracles during his labours (Nobody could pay him or help him).

Most narcissists would feel resentful being of service to someone, as this is the exact opposite of gaining narcissistic supply. Nobody who is ‘superior’ offers help to their ‘inferiors’, making this an especially brutal labour for the narcissist to endure.

Fourth Labour: Invite Criticism

Would someone who is ‘perfect’ in every way ask for constructive criticism? Obviously not. Which is why the narcissist must invite suggestions on ways for them to improve as a human — anything the other person deems worthy of mentioning.

The narcissist must then accept the criticism silently and take inventory, before taking action to improve.

Fifth Labour: Ask For A Lesson

The narcissist knows everything. Duh. Nonetheless, for this labour, they need to ask someone to instruct them, and then pay attention.

There’s one added condition on this labour: It can’t be someone the narcissist deems to be a ‘guru’ or ‘of high stature’. It must be someone the narcissist looks down on.

Sixth Labour: Be Alone

The narcissist must spend time in solitude without anyone giving them attention. They need to put their phone on aeroplane mode, and go somewhere they are anonymous. They can even go into nature.

Whatever they decide to do, the narcissist must be alone, without any source of narcissistic supply. No adulation, attention or affirmation. Nothing. Just them and their own company, in a state of isolation and presence with their thoughts and emotions.

This labour is much like Heracles’ pursuit of Poseidon’s Cretan Bull, who was rampaging through the island of Crete. A narcissist often can’t contain their recklessness, with their grandiosity pulling them in all directions.

This overwhelming drive to pursue fantasies of success, novelty and pleasure is much like the Cretan Bull, rampaging through the narcissist’s life, leaving behind a trail of destruction. By disidentifying from their grandiosity and entering into solitude, the narcissist has the opportunity to ‘capture’ the bull and return it to their ‘centre’.

Seventh Labour: Atone For A Sin

For this labour, the narcissist must think of a way they have hurt someone, and say sorry. To avoid using this as a manipulative ploy, they need to offer the apology to someone who has already seen through the narcissist and moved on.

A true atonement for a past sin involves repeating what you did wrong, saying sorry, and thanking that person for everything they did for you. The narcissist must offer this apology, either through voice or text, and then walk away to spend time alone and reflect.

After all, apologies are not intended to soften someone up so they can keep providing narcissistic supply, are they now?

Eighth Labour: Be Honest

The next time the narcissist idealises someone, and notices themselves pulling that person into yet another fantasy bubble, they must pause and have a heart-to-heart with their target. The narcissist must explain their pattern of idealising, abusing and discarding past friends and lovers, and then warn the target that this might also happen to them.

Ninth Labour: Grieve

After being honest with someone who rejects them for it, the narcissist must accept their fate. Labour nine asks that the narcissist simply sit with the heaviness, and invite the pain to wash over them.

Such an act of surrender might unlock a lifetime of repressed grief, which the narcissist has been denying. This is reminiscent of Heracles being ordered to clean up King Augeas’ cow stables in one day — quite a dirty job for a hero. Nonetheless, Heracles accepted his duty. He then proceeded to break a hole in the stables and dug two, wide trenches from the nearby rivers, flushing out all the mess.

The flowing rivers washing through the stables symbolise the narcissist’s prolonged grief, which is also in need of being ‘cleaned’ out. Yet before having access to the healing properties of the Self, the narcissist has to dig the wide trenches in their psyche by being present with their grief.

Tenth Labour: Ask God For Forgiveness

For their final labour, the narcissist is instructed to open their palms, and ask God to forgive them for all the hurt they’ve caused. In admitting that they are flawed, and asking God to take their burden from them, the narcissist admits, even for a moment, that they are not God.

This often brings relief, which a narcissist may take as an opportunity to simply continue with their grandiose ways. Such is the treachery of any narcissist attempting to change their ways.

The Hidden Labour

In the above list of labours, I have only included ten, when Heracles in fact completed twelve.

As previously mentioned, the two conditions for Heracles to complete a labour were that they accepted no assistance and no payment. Because Heracles technically broke both conditions at certain points, he was forced to repeat two labours, making it a total of twelve.

This symbolises the narcissist’s biggest challenge of all: In attempting to atone for their sins, they could easily deceive themselves and turn their labour into another opportunity to garner narcissistic supply. The narcissist’s false self is so absolute, their dissociation so deep, their gaslighting so pervasive, they not only fool you, they often also fool themselves. This is because the narcissist can barely tell the difference between fantasy and reality, which seem to be one and the same.

Nonetheless, each of the labours, if sufficiently completed, is sure to put a dent or open a fracture in the narcissist’s false self. Will it be enough to atone?

The Ultimate Labour

For his final and most difficult labour, Heracles was tasked with going into the Underworld and kidnapping Cerberus; a vicious beast who guarded the entrance to the land of the dead.

Cerberus had three heads of wild dogs, a dragon for a tail, and heads of snakes all over his back. Hades, who ruled the Underworld and feared upsetting Hera, told Heracles he could proceed, but that he could not use any weapons to kidnap Cerberus.

This final labour reveals what the narcissist encounters when leaving behind the world of fantasy. By dropping their coping mechanisms, i.e. their weapons, the narcissist instantly descends into the underworld of their soul.

How many narcissists would survive their encounter with Cerberus?

The Death Of Heracles

Heracles, after completing his twelve labours, settled down and got remarried. Eventually, however, he grew bored and went seeking adventure again. This proved to be his demise, leading to him being accidentally poisoned by his wife for his infidelity.

The symbolism here is striking. Narcissists tend to be reckless and self-destructive, going through phases of normality before breaking out in a desperate thirst for narcissistic supply. A narcissist sometimes uses a period of calm to build something constructive in their life, but ends up sabotaging it through their selfishness and short-sightedness.

Circling back to the beginning, I believe that Heracles slaughtering his original family in a fit of rage and confusion brought on by Hera is a potent symbol of a narcissist’s approach to their loved ones.

Firstly, Hera is a classic representation of a narcissist’s mother. It is quite telling that Heracles’ birth mother, and the woman he was named after (Heracles), were two separate people. The name Heracles means “having the glory of Hera”. Our hero was named in honour of Zeus’ wife to assuage her, and perhaps spare him of her fury.

Nonetheless, Hera still insisted on driving Heracles to madness, and ensured he was thoroughly punished for his father’s sins. This is the insanity which manifests in a narcissist’s life, brought on by both his mother’s and his father’s pathology.

Due to their original trauma, narcissists remain mostly dissociated, psychotic even, and rarely see the real person in front of them. Because of this, and due to their insatiable hunger for narcissistic supply, they ‘devour’ their entire family, sacrificing them at the altar of their grandiose false self.

Whether the narcissist’s guilt ever rises to the fore and forces them to seek atonement at all, is another matter altogether.