How to Love the Worst Person in the World

More of The Past. A poem by Thomas Lux. Pema! The Far Side. Japanese proverbs. Other cool stuff.

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A few months ago, I made a dumb, rookie mistake by talking to a book author who is writing about the Gawker trial¹. For the past couple of years, I have been reasonably vigilant about politely (okay, sometimes politely) declining these requests, but because this individual approached gently and because I was feeling strong about my recovery and ability to talk about that experience with a level of humility, I didn't feel like it would be a problem. Maybe it's a chapter, maybe a footnote—maybe it'll be something no one ever reads. I haven't yet figured out the difference between sticking up for myself and being defensive and hostile. I recognize they are different, but how? Am I capable?

But he was kind in the email and said that he understands that it's a sore topic for me, but even if I spoke to him "on background," I'd be a big help. I like to help, so I said I'd help.

I interpret "on background" as "I will speak freely and candidly but not go on the record because I don't want to be involved." Whereas "off the record" means I talk to the writer, but there is no trace of evidence that we spoke. Then, they get to use parts of the information from our conversation without quotes in their story in any context that works for them—but all my prints are scrubbed.

About five minutes into our "on background" phone conversation, I realized I'd made a big mistake. I was out of my mind, saying things I'd never said out loud, completely unhinged and angry in ways I didn't think I could be anymore.

After almost an hour, I had to stop—the kids were banging on the office door for who knows how long, but I was so lost I hadn't even noticed. I had wandered into the dark hole I promised myself I'd no longer enter. How?

I texted the writer and apologized for my outburst. I told him he could follow up if he had more questions, but I got the sense that he recognized that I was just as crazy and hysterical as he suspected, so there was no point in using me after that.

To my surprise, he texted me about a week ago and asked for that follow-up. I declined, explaining that the last time we spoke wasn't a great day for me, and I didn't want to have one of those days again. He said he understood but then asked if he could fact-check some things with me, and that would be all. I said yes—send them to me in an email. I like to help.

The questions arrived Tuesday, and as I read them, I quickly unraveled again. HOW DARE HE ask that. WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS implying that. NO THAT IS NOT "FAIR", SIR.

It felt like I was being interrogated and dehumanized and misunderstood and devalued and disrespected—you get the idea.

My old Al-Anon sponsor was an actor who said that any time he'd get cast as a villain, he'd start with this mindset: "WHY WON'T ANYONE LISTEN TO ME?" 

It sounds a little too broad, but let's apply it to this particular moment: I went from feeling like this one person (the book author) wasn't listening to me. Then felt like everyone close to me did not understand why this hurt me. That frustration immediately tips into anger and then vengeance, and before you know it, I'm a full-time madman building a bomb who wants to make sure everyone in the world listens to me or else—boom. 

What I do know is that I chose to get upset about this. I felt the author violated my peace; therefore, I have the right to become enraged about it until I figure out the best way to help him understand that. Most likely that would be me typing an EMAIL BACK TO HIM LIKE THIS HEY YOU ARE OUT OF LINE DON'T YOU GET IT YOU ARE WRONG HERE IS WHY I WANT TO BEAT YOU UP IN FRONT OF YOUR CHILDREN.

I didn't respond to the email–I won't respond. If there is another follow-up, I will try not to respond. Or maybe I will write to him how I feel and protect my peace. But if I do that—no more peace. What a mess. I deserve to be punished.

*****

When I find myself in this self-hating place, I go back to Chapter 5 of "When Things Fall Apart" by Pema Chödrön, titled "It's Never Too Late." It's about practicing loving-kindness when you think you don't deserve it.

She defines loving-kindness in this context as having "an unconditional friendship with ourselves," which sounds corny but also lovely. I want that friendship. Heyyyy, me. You good?

If anyone's been through any sort of public shaming, you'll find someone afraid of the quiet. I'm a human who did horrible things, and therefore, the quiet is something I cannot enjoy. Can't love things too much. Can't be happy anymore.

Because that can all be taken away.

Here's Pema:

"I get many letters from the worst person in the world. Sometimes, the worst person is getting older and feels he has wasted his life. Sometimes, she is a suicidal teenager reaching out for help. The people who give themselves such a hard time come in all ages, shapes, and colors. The thing they have in common is that they have no loving-kindnesss for themselves." 

Here are some other passages from Chapter 5 in TFAP that helped me, and maybe they'll help protect you:

• "The painful thing is that when we buy into disapproval, we are practicing disapproval. When we buy into harshness, we are practicing harshness. The more we do it, the stronger these qualities become. How sad it is that we become so expert at causing harm to ourselves and others. The trick then is to practice gentleness and letting go. We can learn to meet whatever arises with curiosity and not make it such a big deal."

• "Our personal demons come in many guises. We experience them as shame, as jealousy, as abandonment, as rage. They are anything that makes us so uncomfortable that we continually run away."

• "We can spend our whole lives escaping from the monsters of our minds." 

• "Practicing loving-kindness toward ourselves seems as good as a way as any to start illuminating the darkness of difficult times." 

More good stuff after this.