Soul Wars – Episode 4: The Men Who Drain Me

The Hot–Cold Problem

Some people “blow hot and cold” as mum would have said. They can be warm, even effusive, then suddenly they are gone – few or no messages and those they do send are confusing.

There’s no direct explanation, and only vague hints. Its not necessarily an attempt to manipulate, its just that there is suddenly a distance where there was once proximity.

What’s really confusing is the way these people then reappear as though nothing had happened.

There are some people who will say “I have something on and need some space”, they might even make sure that I know that its nothing to do with me. This is reassuring: everybody needs space from time to time.

Ambiguity as a Burnout Engine

These hot-cold relationships are extremely draining for me. Not because I’m needy, or I want too much (or at least I hope that’s not the case), and I don’t think its because I have necessarily misread anything.

I’m tired because these relationships leave me regularly scanning for difficulty and danger, or wondering whether I have crossed an invisible line. So I end up masking just in case.

Being constantly on alert is draining. An hour is manageable. Two hours or more really starts to deplete me. I might be having fun and enjoying their company, but simply being with them is extra work.

After a while, I will feel wiped out and I will have to pay back the energy-debt.

Why It Feels Familiar

I spent a lot of time by myself as a child. I was very good in my own company and would frequently play alone in my room.

Mum was loving and warm, but was never a play companion and would often be doing her own things.

My dad was remote and associated with the heat of unpredictable anger rather than the warmth of love.

Silence in the home wasn’t necessarily hostile, but it certainly wasn’t warm and it didn’t feel safe. Affection often felt as though had to be earned. With my father, I could never work out how to earn it. Any connection I felt to him felt strictly conditional on how well I was able to participate in his interests.

There was never any reassurance from my dad after distress. He was often the cause of it, but even when I was bullied he was not a safe person to retreat towards.

This was my childhood normal, but it wasn’t nourishing.

So the familiar has an attraction, but it isn’t a healthy one for me.

Shame-Driven Avoidance

People with avoidant or shame driven personalities will often push for closeness and then suddenly withdraw. They often attempt to reframe their distance of “protecting me” rather than naming what it is they are actually feeling.

Maybe they are protecting me in some way from their inner turmoil and confusion, so there’s a pretext of kindness obscuring a refusal to engage.

People with a sense of shame about their own gender or sexuality will almost always feel uncomfortable with my comfort in my gender and sexuality.

These are not cruel people, but there is an inadvertent emotional cost to my own psyche.

The Body Keeps the Score

Accepting that for me feeling tired around someone isn’t a judgement. It’s a data point.

There are key physical symptoms that might help me at least identify when I am getting into difficulty with somebody:

I might feel a tension in my jaw.
I might have shorter, shallower breaths.
There might be a whistling in my ears.
My stomach might feel less settled.
The time I am spending with them might start to feel like labour rather than love.
And I feel a sense of relief when I leave their company.

A New Boundary

To help me cope with such people, I need to acknowledge a few things:

I can’t change anybody else.
But, I don’t have to stay where I have to guess where I am.
And I can’t build intimacy through uncertainty.

I see the pattern now – and I choose not to engage in it.