Toxic People

I’m sure you’ve met a few toxic people. While the positive people in our lives nurture and encourage us, the toxic people function more like speed bumps. Energy vampires, fun suckers—whatever you want to call them—these poor souls force us to grow or be drawn into their unhappy world. The next time you find yourself dealing with a toxic person, remember that they deserve your compassion. Just don’t let yourself be submerged in their toxins.

If you’ve ever befriended a toxic person—or if you’ve been lucky enough to have one in your family—you know about the draining effect they can have on you. I’ve found they come in three basic varieties: the overtly negative, the snipers, and the attention hogs. The ones who are overtly negative are also usually hypercritical, and they’re frequently spewing profanity at every turn. Everyone and everything has a label. They can leave you feeling like a punching bag. For these folks, every conversation is the opportunity for a full frontal assault. Snipers appear pleasant, but leave you feeling uneasy as you wonder what on earth they really mean by their back-handed comments (“Gee, Susie, I never would have thought a girl your size could look good in that color, but you really pull it off.”) Attention hogs don’t seem to have a clue that anyone else exists. They can appear egotistical and inconsiderate. These are those people who can’t wait to get together with you, and then spend the entire time talking about themselves. They wonder why you never told them about your marriage, promotion, or pregnancy, completely oblivious to the fact that they never gave you the chance.

The best method I know for dealing with toxic people is compassionate silence, plus a generous dose of self-protection. You can do your best to avoid them, but it isn’t always possible. You can’t take anything they say (or don’t say) personally. Toxic people offer us the opportunity to hone our listening skills, and to practice non-interference and detachment. Listen to what the fun suckers in your life are really saying. What you’re likely to hear under all that negative energy is, “Listen to me! Look at me! I’m lonely!” Fail to hear the real message under all that sludge, and you’ll find yourself smack in the middle of a wave of judgment, maybe even anger. These people virtually invented the senseless argument.

Toxic people teach as much (maybe even more) as our supportive and fun friends. From the toxic people in my life, I learned that unsolicited advice rarely does anyone any good—for either the giver or the receiver. I also learned to relinquish the need to be right, or to talk about myself. The only thing I’m still working on is how to shake that nasty cloud of negative energy they bring with them.

Last week, I met up with an old acquaintance who is also a toxic person. At one time, years ago, she was a friend. But then she became an attention hog. I lost interest in visiting with her after several hours-long episodes of her talking non-stop about herself, sometimes repeating herself endlessly. At first, I felt that because I was her friend I should just let her vent, but then it started to feel like I was on the receiving end of a big pile of emotional vomit. Nothing was going right, her husband was a jerk, her health was a wreck, positive thinking was for imbeciles, and almost everyone she knew was either an idiot or intellectually deficient in some way. She was profoundly uninterested in anything going on in my life. When she got back in touch with me recently, it had been over a year since I’d seen her. I agreed to meet her for some catching up.

I’m happy to say that her health is better and she appears to enjoy at least a few of the people in her life, but she didn’t spend much time talking about those things. Her main topics of conversation revolved around her husband’s failings and how put-upon she is to forever be hosting visitors in her new home. One poor soul had the nerve to bring her an unsatisfactory bottle of wine for a housewarming gift, which she told me she wouldn’t use to make vinegar. (I didn’t mention that I had a bottle of that same wine in my refrigerator.) After two hours of her talking about herself, she was ready to leave. I chuckled when I got in my car. What had led me to believe she had changed? Why hadn't I thought of an excuse not to see her?

My chuckling stopped as I wondered, is it me? Was I at fault because I hadn’t been able to get the conversation going in any kind of positive way? Why did she even bother taking the time to meet me? Did it make her feel better, or superior, or did she just enjoy the fact that I let her talk? How could it be a good experience to have such a one-sided conversation?

In prior years, I would have obsessed over these questions. I would have worried that I appeared weak, uninteresting, or stupid. I’ll admit that it still took me a while to shake the film of black goo that I allowed to cloud my thinking. Fortunately, although she hasn’t changed much since I last saw her, I have changed. Instead of obsessively re-playing every bit of uncomfortable conversation, or thinking of the more witty remarks I could have made, I let it go. I had to consciously move my thoughts away from our visit and on to something positive, but after persistent effort, I succeeded. I realized that it really wouldn’t have made any difference if I’d been as witty as a stand-up comedian, as rich as a Trump, or as sophisticated as a Hamptons resident. It really wasn’t about me. It was about her.

And that, I have to say, is one of the biggest lessons we can learn from the toxic people in our lives. All those mean comments, the negative energy, the seeming lack of consideration, all that thinly veiled judgment isn’t about us. If we take it personally, we just bring ourselves down. But if we practice compassion and detachment, we’ll find the toxic people in our lives can be our best teachers.
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Picture courtesy of Greschoj at http://www.sxc.hu/photo/1057832