In the midst of our tumultuous political season, with a corrupt right-wing Supreme Court, a GOP-led House of Horrors, and a person on trial whose conviction will still not shake the support of his cult, all of which is depressing enough, I have a personal story to share.
I was raised in a toxic home, in which I learned that my worth was based on the most recent report card or how well I did whatever was the last thing I did. And my failures and how I proved to be a disappointment were always pointed out in great detail. As a result, I have always struggled with low self-esteem.
Years ago, when I was struggling with major depression, my therapist asked me about people I had known who liked me and who did so without expecting me to do anything for them; people for whom my value was not based on what I could do, but on who I was. That was not an easy task. Because I did not feel worthwhile, I tended to put up with treatment from others that a person with a healthy self-image would not have accepted—I felt I was lucky that anyone would want to have anything to do with me. But there were a few people who I could think of who fit the criteria. As I explored this, I came to see that people could and did like me for myself, and that I was worthy of friendship and love.
About a year ago, when going through an old box, I came across some things that reminded me of one of those friends: a photo, a piece of music he taught me, a small gift. He was a bright, sunny person, who never failed to make me laugh. I was always incredibly comfortable with him. He was truly one of the good guys.
We had lost touch long before my depression. That was in the days before the internet, so I had no way to try to find him. But now, with search engines, I thought that I would like to contact him and let him know that his friendship had made a difference in my life, even though its importance did not fully become clear to me until years later. So I looked him up. There was not a lot of information, but there was an email address, so I sent an email saying that I had come across some specific things at home that reminded me of an old friend, that I was looking for him, and that if this was actually his correct email, I’d love to touch base and find out how he was doing.
It was a number of months before I heard anything—in fact, I thought that I had taken a long shot that hadn’t panned out. But then I got a brief email just before Christmas, asking for my phone number. That was followed, within hours, by another email saying that he was terribly busy, and to give him some time. He expressed a dislike for the intrusiveness of modern technology, which I’m sure we all feel from time to time. I thought nothing of it. So I decided to wait a while before reaching out again.
Four months later, I emailed him again, just to say that the purpose of me trying to contact him was to let him know that his kindness to me many years ago had made a positive difference in my life. I really believe that we don’t tell people frequently enough—at least I know I don’t—how they have had a positive impact on our lives, and it is something I try to do now. You just never know when your words will make a difference to someone who needs to hear them.
The response that I got was disturbing. It seems my former friend has fallen victim to some kind of conspiracy thinking. He told me how I had “damaged” him by using his name in a email. He told me that I shouldn’t use gmail or anything 5G. It was abrupt and angry-sounding.
Here I was, trying to do something nice, and I ended up having the opposite effect. I certainly had no intention of upsetting him, and there was nothing in his earlier emails that suggested an aversion to the use of his name or this type of paranoia about online information. I fear for his mental health, although it is clear that there is nothing I can do about it.
Am I wrong to see this as perhaps a symptom of broader societal problems, rather than just the mental health problems of an individual? It certainly feels to me like a sense of general paranoia and fear is becoming increasingly prevalent. And how can we combat that paranoia, conspiracy theories, and disinformation, when even kindness can be turned into something bad?
Whatever the cause, I am deeply saddened for him.