I know a few people who are addicted to chaos. They’re drama magnets, emotional “black holes,” if you will. Something is always going wrong for them, and then those of us around them hear all about the crisis-of-the-moment.
Again and again.
There’s a fine line between expressing frustration and chronic complaining. I’m not judging. I try to offer help and support, or just a listening ear, depending on what’s needed and/or requested.
Here’s the thing. I’m sure that what I see in these perceived drama addicts is much more about me than it is about them. Indeed, my observations direct me inward and remind me of what I need to change and repair in my own life.
I try to practice compassion and empathy. I treasure the luxury of feeling understood and loved despite my many faults, so I do my best to extend understanding and love of others and their difficulties whenever possible.
But negativity is exhausting and contagious. And for someone like me, who already struggles with depression and anxiety, negativity is as dangerous as a riptide. I find it’s better just to stay out of the water and hold out a helping hand from the safety of the shore.
One of my long-term goals is to be drama-free. Of course, bad things happen to us all. But when trials come my way, I hope to be able to take them in stride.
I’m fine with grieving, or even ranting and moping — privately, to those I trust — when appropriate. But if I want to live in a world that is less chaotic, the calm amidst the storm needs to start with me.