I'm pretty sure we've all met somebody like that.
That special someone in your life who always seems to be traversing existential drama, and for whom every single week seems to be an unlucky week. Whether it's anxieties about their job, relationship, family, illness, holiday, some major purchase or any and everything under the sun, this person always seems to be going through something.
I have a few people currently in my life like that. With a lot of them, management is quite easy, because if you perceive someone's one of those early enough or badly enough, all you can really do is let them go, as they probably won't bring much value to your life. Some, though, by custom, shared history or redeeming traits, you decide to keep in your life despite the drama. How?
In the past, this was quite an issue for me. I'm very emotion-led and would really get involved in these people's stories. When a girlfriend was going through a rough situation with her partner, I'd be crying and upheaving my entire day based on that. Wasting hours giving support, advice, courage, etc.
I say "waste" because with some people, it is. Some people genuinely seem to relish the dramatics, the having a major problem every hour, on the hour. Which takes some getting used to, especially if at first you believe them when they say all they want is peace.
When the pigeons get antsy, how do you stay a motherfucking seagull?
Needless to say, my friend never wanted peace. She was and is (unfortunately) addicted to the chaos. People sometimes get addicted to it, and it's easy to see why. It makes you stand out, in a way, gives you a story, a place in the spotlight, a something that makes your existence on this planet memorable. It's also a convenient restructuring of the existential chaos that surrounds us at all times, unmanageable on the fringes of existence - so terrified of that, we try to make our own bite-sized version, like a drama at work. Besides, draw enough woe to your life, it makes it that much easier to overlook your own glaring disappointment and unhappiness.
There's no time to ask am I leading the life I wanna lead, when you've always got some urgent problem to solve and feel (slightly) good about yourself.
Is that mean of me to say? I don't know. But there are such people who seem to constantly be attracting misery, and in time, I've developed a technique for dealing with them.
I say thank you. I try as I can to be compassionate about their issues, but to be frank, it's a surface-level compassion often. When you're constantly attracting misery into your life and clinging to it like your existence depends on it, you can't really blame me for not being overly-sympathetic.I listen to their dramas quite attentively, but I've got to constantly reel myself in and remember that this is not my problem. Because the moment I do, I start looking for helpful comments and solutions, and I've come to understand some people don't want that. Some aren't asking for it, sure, they just want to be listened to. I know that. But what about those who do ask, but have no follow-through?
If you choose to linger in your own misery, it's not really my duty as someone who loves you to wallow alongside you.
I'll wallow for a little while, but usually, I'll walk away lighter thinking well I may have my own shit to deal with, but at least I'm not reveling in it like they are. It's a subtle perspective shift, but goes a long way.
I assess my mind constantly for weeds. Are these my fears, my anxieties? Or am I just taking someone else's worry for my own - my mother's, my culture's, my lover's? We're taught that to be compassionate is to share the fears, and to a certain extent, I agree. After all, it's the bad far more than the good that forges a bond. Except, you've got to be really careful about submerging yourself in fear. It has a nasty habit of taking over you, and what good are you to the original person if you're being led by your fears, as well?
I take long stretches of time alone to center myself and remember the things that make me me - my music, my interests, my writing, my body. Then, I rethink how truly scary/important the other's complaints and anxieties are. It feels selfish every time, but I think it's necessary. If I'm able to see past your fears, maybe one day, you will be as well.
How do we set boundaries with people who've got none? How do you say "this is your worry, don't make it mine"? It's necessary to master a level of disconnection where, though I may sympathize, I'm not drawn into their reality whole.
Now, how easy that is to do is a question for another time.
This was an attempted response to this week's #KISS prompt from the MINIMALIST community,
How do you mindfully avoid letting the anxieties of others affect your daily life and achieving your goals?
Why don't you try your own hand at it? :)
