Competitive Misery
As Jessica sobbed about her loneliness and feelings of despair, her husband Isaac looked crestfallen beside her. When Jessica regained her composure, Isaac launched into a litany of his woes including lack of sleep, back pain and work stress. No matter how miserable Jessica felt, she could always count on Isaac feeling worse.
In all types of relationships—marriage, close and casual friendships—some people treat suffering like a competitive sport. If you think you have it bad, let me tell you about my problems.
We depend on the company of friends and loved ones as being safe havens from the seemingly- daily affronts we suffer in our worlds. But if we lean too heavily, too much or too often, on those closest to us, we become a drag. We risk alienating our allies or setting up a competition for attention.
The Pain Economy
One reason partners and friends compete for attention around pain is the notion that someone else’s pain reduces your own access to empathy. There’s just so much room for suffering in a relationship or so the belief goes. And there’s a limited supply of empathy.
Of course, these beliefs are under the surface. Few people wake up each morning strategizing about how they’re going to drain the oxygen from their relationships. The other reality is that pain can cause us to become unbearably self-centered.
Most of us are self-absorbed to one degree or another. Like many characteristics, our goal is to keep balanced. When we’re experiencing emotional or physical pain, the scales tend to tip toward self-focused and away from other-focused. This is understandable. When the scales are chronically tipped toward self, however, our relationships suffer.
Mindfulness and self-care strategies can help us keep our self-absorption in check. Self-care strategies vary from one person to another. Sometimes just getting out of house is a form of self-care. Seeking the help of those who are paid to listen (and hopefully offer helpful insights and suggestions) is another form of self-care.
Being aware of our impact on others and regulating our emotions can also be used to keep our self-absorption at bay. One of my favorite quotes from psychologist Susan David is, “emotions are data, not directives.” We need not act on nor talk about all the random thoughts that cross our minds.
If I can’t fix it, I can’t face it.
Sometimes we erroneously believe that our job is to fix the problems of our partners or family members—that others’ suffering is our responsibility. The result of that belief could be avoidance of the problem: if I can’t fix it, I can’t face it. Denial is one method used alleviate the burden of responsibility.
Another method we use to relieve the anxiety we feel around others’ suffering is to offer unsolicited advice. Perhaps remedies that worked for us, would work for others (or so we think). This advice, however, is more about us than about the other person.
For example, if a friend is dealing with anxiety, a risk-averse person might advise sleep, an exercise enthusiast could advise gym membership, whereas others may suggest a stiff drink. Such unsolicited advice often doesn’t land well; it can feel disrespectful and dismissive.
Many of us could use reminding to listen more and talk less. Listening with boundaries, however, may be necessary. If someone talks about their misery extensively, putting limits on how much and how often you become their sounding board might save your relationship.
Living with Eeyore
Being in relationship with someone who is a chronic complainer or who one-ups you with their suffering is exhausting. It can cause estrangement.
Asking for space to talk about one’s misery is one way to prevent becoming an Eeyore or to establish boundaries with your Eeyore partner or friend. I’d like to talk about my struggle with loneliness; are you in a place to listen? You may need to be more directive as in: I’d like to talk. Would you be willing to just listen and not give advice?
Perhaps you’ve gotten emails— as I have—from friends or colleagues who’ve received an adverse diagnosis and are requesting a certain type of response from us. Some may have asked recipients not to give advice about treatment plans nor share stories about others who have either survived or perished with similar diseases. I have found such emails courageous and inspiring. What if we sent such messages even when we weren’t in dire straits?
Direct communication of what you want and need (scary as that is) is frequently the simple, but not easy, remedy to a lopsided relationship. Naming the dynamic can help. The other simple, but not easy, strategy for ending attention-getting competition is to set limits on when and how often you’re available to listen to kvetching.
No one wins in the misery competition—not the person complaining who wears down allies nor the listener whose own needs aren’t being met. Relationships are not zero-sum games. When one person wins the competition, both lose.
“I was so upset, I forgot to be happy.”
—Eeyore from Winnie-the-Pooh