"The weak are the most treacherous of us all. They come to the strong and drain them. They are bottomless. They are insatiable. They are always parched and always bitter. They are everyone's concern and like vampires they suck our life's blood." - Bette Davis
Energy vampires. We've all known at least one. They are those people who suck us in to their dramas with pleas of help and woe is me views of the world. No matter how much you do for them, it is never enough. Whether you've gone to Hell and back, mortgaged your soul or devoted your last ounce of energy to the detriment of your own wellbeing - it's not enough. It will never be enough.
I've known a few energy vampires in my day. Some of them were friends who I had to let go. It's sad but it happens. Some of them were colleagues. One came into my life through a set of strange circumstances staying only long enough to make a lot of unreasonable demands which I scrambled to meet for a few months before I came to my senses.
A few days ago, I got a LinkedIn request from a person I haven't seen or heard from in more than twenty years. I worked with her many years ago and we enjoyed what I thought was a friendly relationship. As I make my living working as an H.R. practicioner, I've always been actuely aware of the boundaries for friendship in companies that employ me. Other than with my colleagues in H.R. and other members of the senior team, I am friendly to everyone but generally, with few exceptions, I am not friends with them. This particular woman, worked hard at ingratiating herself with me. She worked in a sales function and seemed pleasant. I was friendly with her. We exchanged pleasantries in the kitchen when we were getting coffee and sometimes even sat down together and chatted about food and fashion. She pushed for a more personal relationship but I resisted. We had little in common. After a couple of years of working together, the department in which she worked was reorganized. I, of course, knew that a big round of terminations was coming as my department was responsible for preparing and conducting them. Her job was eliminated and it became abundantly clear to me why I've always been so cautious about crossing the friendship line. It's unpleasant to fire friends but when you work in H.R. it goes with the territory.
Needless to say, she didn't take the termination well. She was given a fair package and treated kindly and with dignity. But in her mind, I had betrayed her. I knew she was going to be terminated and I didn't stop it or warn her. In what world she could have believed I would have or could have done that, I am unclear. I did my job and I did it well. She insisted that she would not attend in the office again even to sign the paperwork for her settlement. In the interest of easing her discomfort, I agreed to meet her at a nearby restaurant to ink the deal and retrieve the company property still in her possession. Of course, she seized the opportunity to tell me what a really lousy person she believed me to be and I let her. I didn't bother defending myself. The only time I saw her after that was at the wedding of a mutual friend. She was very rude, refusing to greet me or speak with me.
So I was certainly surprised when the LinkedIn request came though perhaps I shouldn't have been. Many of my old colleagues have requested to connect with me on LinkedIn - the very same people who barely had a civil word for me so long ago, are seeking my help these days in getting themselves re-employed or in resolving difficult employment situations for which they would like my professional advice at no charge. I usually oblige. I thought for a few hours about whether or not I would accept her invitation to connect. Ultimately I did, feeling somehow it would be petty of me to decline. Then the long email arrived asking a lot of questions about my business. I don't know what her angle is but I'm sure there is one. I could take the time to answer her but I've decided not to bother. I'm running very low on energy these days. I don't have any to spare for an energy vampire.
No comments:
Post a Comment