It can be exhausting to polish your negative filter day in and day out, constantly snipping away unwelcome intrusions of joy and self-worth only to see them grow back like fingernails.
One solution is to subcontract the work. Collect people around you who, one way or another, serve to lower your mood. Here are some candidates:
Insulters. People who are utterly unimpressed by you and make their displeasure clear and constant. The best are those who focus on immutable characteristics of your nature: you are stupid, worthless, ugly, awkward, incompetent, and selfish. If they emphasized your actual behavior, then you could evaluate their implicit recommendations for any worth they might have (Hmm, maybe I could take over the driving more often), but they don’t. You want people whose criticism is
Bigots are a wonderful resource for this (“white people are so pasty”; “Christians are fools”; “deaf people never listen”), but there are plenty of equal-opportunity critics on the market as well.
Complainers. Whether directing their dissatisfaction toward you or not, these individuals can suck the air out of a stadium. They can find the inadequacies in any situation, so if you stick by their side, you will be treated to their point of view on any experiences you share. The traffic was a nightmare, the restaurant was poorly lit, the movie afterward was spoiled when the microphone appeared in the frame, and the popcorn (which neither of you really needed) was criminally salty.
Nothing is good enough, and nothing can be celebrated. If you viewed the Taj Mahal together, they would point out the cracks in the marble while complaining of the heat.
Underminers. These are individuals who dig away at your pet projects and enthusiasms, showing the ennui and pointlessness lying not too far beneath the surface. “You’ll never really finish that novel, and anyway, publishing is a dying business.” “Smoking is impossible to give up—here, have one with me.” “You’re my only friend who still uses crack cocaine, so don’t desert me now; I’ll buy.” “If he doesn’t get you a card for every month’s anniversary, you should dump him.” “You can diet tomorrow.” “At our age, you’ll never get in shape anyway.”
Saboteurs. In workplaces, these individuals operate behind the scenes to deflate enthusiasm, slow projects down, and point out injustices—real or imagined. Seeing themselves as independent thinkers (as opposed to robotic yes-men, of whom you, they imply, appear to be one), they relentlessly emphasize the negative in every endeavor, sowing dissatisfaction and pointless rebellion. The world needs people to point out the downside of things, of course (“Perhaps cutting back on aircraft maintenance is a bit short-sighted”), but true saboteurs go far beyond this and act out their personal resentments rather than providing needed balance.
Narcissists. These are folks who don’t need relationships, they need an audience—and you’re it. Everything is about their life, their interests, and their needs. Better at monologue than conversation, they show little sign of interest in anything about you—or even that you exist. Your job is to bask in their sunlight, reassuring them that the heat they give off is genuine.
No one can escape having at least a few of these individuals around, but the true seeker of the depths should populate his or her social network with as many of them as possible. Like a hot-air balloon threatening always to break free and soar upward, you want a multitude holding your ropes, anchoring you to the dirt.
But how do we prevent ourselves from activating the ejector seat? With kindness and a reluctance to rock the boat. Hope, like crabgrass, springs eternal. When faced with these toxic people, we can urge ourselves to be patient. Maybe they’re having a bad day—or decade. We ourselves are not uniformly good company when life seems to be against us.
Resist the urge to try to help toxic people. It is often tempting to offer a meta-comment: an observation about the person’s style of interaction. “Sara, when we’re together, you talk a lot about the people you dislike and seldom about people you appreciate.” “Rod, you point out a lot you don’t like about me. Is there anything you do like?” “There are things about this company that I have a hard time with, Margot, but others I support. What keeps you here?”
We’re often prevented from making confrontations like this by the fear that we will damage the relationship. Doug, having been confronted by his relentless focus on himself, might not want us around any more. If we think carefully about it, however, we can realize that this isn’t much of a price to pay.
We also fear being rude. Other people haven’t told Mordecai that they find his negativity stifling; why should we be the first? Sometimes, though, good manners can be damaging—leaving Mordecai to wonder why it is that people head for the exits when he appears. The kinder thing can be to gently point out the reasons for his ever-shrinking network. He may respond with hurt or anger, but he can choose what to do with the information.
Gambits such as these may prove helpful or not, depending on your willingness to follow them up with a clear and patient discussion and on your friends’ openness to your feedback. Often, however, their style will prove intractable, and ejection will become tempting. This is an option for those seeking a better life.
If, instead, your quest for ennui is a serious one, talk yourself into keeping them around. Use guilt on yourself to stay attentive: I owe them gratitude. Or pity: They’re so unhappy; they need me. Or pride: No one else is strong enough to stand them.
All of your friends and family will fit one or more of the descriptions above for at least part of their lives, as will we. In recognition of this fact, we will want to stand with them out of honor, kindness, and an awareness of the more positive aspects of their nature. But for true misery, you should collect the unremitting, unapologetic, and determined negative influences around you. Exclude the passengers who want to join you in soaring to higher latitudes.
Stick with the ones who hammer you to the ground.