I’m Not Your Personal Diary

So PLEASE stop texting negativity into my phone.

We all know one.

That Debbie Downer — female or male — who sees your phone as a trash bin for every negative thought that passes through their mind.

In Yiddish, there’s actually a term for this type of habitual complainer: a kvetch.

Let me be clear: a kvetch isn’t the buddy going through a bad break-up.

Or the pal who sends an occasional political gripe.

Or the co-worker who forwards a comically tragic GIF.

No, no.

A kvetch is that problematic friend or relative whose long-term worldview drips negativity.

Not necessarily clinically depressed, they seem to luxuriate in their discontent.

They see their role as reminding others that life is no bowl of cherries. After all, misery loves company.

That’s where you (and your SMS inbox) come in.

Ding! “The traffic here is horrendous!”

Ding! “This heat is brutal! I need to move!”

Ding! “I’m so over this damn team. They suck!”

Ding! “I’ve been waiting at the doctor’s office for an hour!”

And more.

Nearly every day. Every week. For years, if you allow it.

What did you do to deserve such bellyaching?

Oh, I don’t know. Maybe you’re a sensitive soul who attracts wounded birds?

Maybe, like me in my younger years, you’re a serial people-pleaser?

Or perhaps you lean a bit towards the void yourself and once or twice complained to the wrong person, signaling an openness to their non-stop griping.

Or all of the above?

The kvetch, you see, develops antennae for these tendencies. It’s an adaptation of sorts. Subsisting on attention and sympathy, they locate their prey — you — and dig in.

Perhaps they justify it this way: “It’s not like I’m taking up his time talking on the phone. It’s only a few text messages.”

And that’s what you tell yourself, too — for awhile. But the more you respond with words of comfort or advice, the more you’re sucked into their vortex of negative drama.

Do I sound cynical myself?

Well, that’s because this type of person usually has no intention of changing anything, least of all themselves.

For one, so much of what they grouse about— the weather, traffic, sports teams, the economy, other people — is beyond their control.

But also their whining connects them to something safe and familiar within themselves. Giving it up feels like a loss and maybe a betrayal of someone from their past — probably a parent — who acted similarly or needed them in that role.

What Should You Do?

Protect your positive mindset.

Not only do I limit social media and the 24-hour news cycle, I’ve also learned to filter opinions and attitudes I allow into my daily life.

As they say, you are the 5 people you spend the most time with. If you’re accepting frequent texts (or phone calls) from a kvetch, even if you never see them in person, then rest assured they’re influencing you, at least subconsciously.

Take Leonard, a British expat I befriended during my years in Chiang Mai, Thailand. We didn’t have a whole lot in common. But we were both divorced and eager to meet charming women whose attention might numb the hurt of our failed marriages.

Though we had good times, double-dating or just grabbing some beers, differences in our temperaments emerged.

Where I saw Northern Thai cuisine as a culinary adventure, Leonard saw it as primitive and sometimes repulsive. Where I often found Thai people warm and soulful, he saw them as phony.

And so on.

Leonard, I should note, was generous with his time and helped me learn project management. Meanwhile, I persuaded the dean of my university’s business college to hire him with no formal teaching experience.

But over time, I noticed that the more we communicated, the more my passion for Thailand declined. Much of what he bemoaned would soon stand out and bug me, too, like that exercise where you’re asked to spot the color red in your surroundings. You start seeing a lot of red!

And boy was I seeing red years later in Hong Kong. Leonard arrived a few years after me and began blasting my phone with negative texts about the city I love, among other things.

My hints to lighten up went ignored. Direct requests to stop were met with “yeah, buts…” When I saw that he had far less interest in me than in his venting, I chose the nuclear option: I blocked him.

Only much later did I learn mutual acquaintances also found his negativity toxic. One fellow said, “That guy? Oh Lord, what a whiner!”

Set boundaries on kvetches. You can bet they care more about their gripes than they do about you.