Names of individuals and organisations have been changed to prevent earache and potential lawsuits.
I recently had to block someone that I’d been mates with for about 5 years. Donny and I hadn’t been particularly close, not as close as he’d imagined. He was about a decade older, and yeah, we’d grown up in the same town, but aside from spending a few years in a weekly men’s Support Group and both having mental health challenges, we were pretty different. I’m single, him engaged then married. I do gym, he… well, maybe walks his dog. I like swanky cocktail bars and dark nightclubs playing blaring house music, he goes to old-man pubs selling traditional ale. I went to uni 20 years ago, he’s studying now. I did media, he’s doing counselling. I’ve done a ton of promo work and bar work in the past, and I’m now in admin, he used to work on the railways.
None of this bodes for a meaningful, deep friendship, does it? So why did Donny persist in trying to form some kind of friendship with me in particular? Why not someone with whom he has more in common?
This didn’t happen overnight. Very gradually, Donny began to ingratiate himself into my life, following me to a different branch of the support group because, like I did, he felt it was more sociable and with more varied characters, different ages and backgrounds etc. Which it is.
It was around this time he enrolled on his mental health counsellor course, and this coincided with a weird behavioural change: he started trying to counsel me. Intermittently, he’d text me with out-of-character messages, saying ‘how are you feeling,’ and such. ‘About what?’ I’d reply, hoping I was misinterpreting. ‘Just in general,’ he’d reply.
The Support Group had a secret Group Page, only visible to people who attend the group, and is a space for people to check in throughout the week with any challenges they might be facing, or any positives, or asking for advice. It means you’re not waiting a whole week to be able to be able to vent, or ask questions if you require. Occasionally, I’d put something up just to gauge the group’s opinions and reactions. Once Donny had started this course, I’d find that minutes after uploading this post, he’d phone me, telling me that I can always talk to him about these things.
Yes, I’d say, or I can put them on the Group Page where I can see a few responses at the same time.
It was just not like him. Further odd behaviour happened: Donny developed a persistent habit of trying to set me up with his wife’s friends, none of whom I had any interest in and were usually, like Donny and his wife, slightly odd people whose lives were vastly different to mine. He wanted to approach women for me. He’d phone me and waffle down the phone about nothing in particular, sometimes about some dogshit TV show his wife was watching that he was, through circumstance, being subjected to, for instance. He wanted me to proofread essays of which he’d only written the introduction (and not very well).
At one point (and this is where my own social naivete comes to the fore) I’d followed – and received a follow back from - a local stripper on Instagram. She messaged me a few times, saying things like, ‘wanna have some fun?x’ I’d assumed this was just to try to get me to come to her club and buy dances. I responded eventually, and she claimed she’d not danced for a few weeks. It seemed she’d been trying, if I was reading this right, for a hookup. I asked her if she fancied a drink at the weekend. Things seemed to be going well. But why was she asking to meet a guy twice her age? And what had I done right this time? Something was off.
I detailed this in the Support Group’s Group Page. People at the group seemed to be missing the point. They were asking me not to worry, and not bother about other people’s judgements. My concern was different to that: was this young woman looking for naive blokes to set up and rob? Was there some other situation I hadn’t thought of? At the same time, I’ve thrown away some great opportunities with suspicions like these. I’ve treated good girls like they were trying to do me over, and they’ve left me because I’ve evidently not trusted them.
So, what’s the worst that could happen? We’d be meeting in a public place. There’d be doormen on.
Donny, of course, completely misread the situation. He phoned me, offering to sit in the bar at the back of the room and ‘keep his eye on me.’
Not necessary, I explained. I don’t think anything drastic is going to happen, and besides, what would you do?
Just watch, he claimed.
Mate, I retorted, with respect, I don’t need backing up, something you couldn’t do anyway. You’ve had surgery on your hands and feet. Plus, how old are you? Fifty?
The girl stopped messaging the day we were supposed to meet up.
Not long after this I went for food with Donny, his wife and Julie, a girl that had been eyeing me up at his wedding. At the time, she was in a relationship. Now, not so. She was not what I go for at all, but we were a group of mates anyway, and besides, I’d been meaning to try Almost Famous. I left the car at home and got the bus in to avoid giving them a lift, and so I could pre-drink from a hip flask on the way down.
The food was actually good, but the three other people at the table had very different lives to my own, and there really wasn’t a great amount in terms of common ground, shared experiences, conversation that would stimulate all four of us. At the risk of sounding like a massive douchebag, there’s a certain intelligence difference between the other three and myself. We went for drinks and played darts, something I’d done maybe twice before in my life, then shared a taxi back early doors.
I messaged one of the other support group members, Brian. I ask him, has Donny been phoning you a lot? It seemed Donny has. Brian felt like the conversations they’d had could have been a text message, really.
Monday rolls around, and – as a routine – I pick up Donny on the way into the support group. He’s oblivious to this, but I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable. Trapped. Angry. Once someone pisses you off, there’s no going back. You probably know how it is: every little thing that they do starts to grate.
Donny asks me if something’s wrong.
You fucking idiot, I think. Can you really not see that YOU are the problem here?
The support group session begins. I make sure that Donny is in a different room before I mention these problems, without naming him, but also drop the bombshell – after retelling the above – that this individual in question is someone who attends this support group.
Ooohhh rings out across the room.
It’s like a game of Guess Who, says the facilitator. Does he have glasses? Does he have a moustache?
Also in this room is Brian, who has listened to the whole story and not disclosed I’ve told him first. If he had, I’d say that’s a breach of the rules. Wouldn’t you?
The session ends a little later. I hang back to talk to people in the building, then I step outside. Donny and Brian are stood together, obviously having talked, with smirks on their faces.
Bone to pick with you, insists Donny. Were you under any pressure last week?
Oh, the sewing circle has been out in force, has it? I ask. What happened to the rules of the group? What happens in the room stays in the room. Also, you couldn’t put me under any pressure.
Immediately after this, I have to give both Donny and Brian a lift home, as a routine. They both live near me. This time, my car doesn’t start.
Awks.
We call up another guy from the group to come into town and give us a jump start.
It’s an uncomfortable journey home.
As the weeks go on, it’s increasingly difficult to attend the support group and say what I want to say, as I now have to try to avoid Donny’s room, and Brian’s room. This is difficult when the burgeoning group is struggling to accommodate numbers coming through the door. A bigger concern is that they are both facilitators, which means they’re asking the questions, explaining the rules and keeping track of time. Leading the circle, if you like. It’s hugely hypocritical that they’re the ones both reading out the rules and breaking them. I’m increasingly finding that the majority of what I want to share involves people from the actual group itself. Eventually, this becomes unmanageable. I put a message in the group explaining I’m taking a break of at least a month. (I knew I’d likely not be back.)
Donny, of course, immediately responds, ‘reassuring’ me that the group will always be there for me if I decide to return. He’s evidently completely oblivious that he’s the main reason I’m leaving.
This brings us back to the blog post title: emotional intelligence. So what is it? Global English Editing lists out some of the key feature of low EQ.
1) Difficulty in understanding others’ emotions
My anger and irritation at Donny’s behaviour was beyond his grasp. There was a night where the group poured into The Moon under the Water, the local Wetherspoons, next door to the Support Group’s building, knowing I couldn’t stand the place. The facts that I’d worked in healthcare, and dealt with COVID-19 as an essential worker, and that loads of my clients died during the pandemic, Donny knew full well. He also knew Wetherspoons CEO Tim Martin sacked all his staff at the start of the pandemic instead of putting them on furlough, and told them to go and work in Tesco. He then complained repeatedly about the harm the lockdown was doing to his business – the lockdown that was entirely necessary, and that if wasn’t enforced, would have led to the deaths of a larger number of his own customers. Idiot. Prior to the pandemic I’d made it clear that I thought The Moon Under the Water was a shithole and full of idiots, and I had no intention of setting foot in there again.
2) Poor listening skills
I suspect, through Donny’s counselling studies, he’s working on this, but because he’ll have been told to. I can’t say he particularly listened to much of what I’d said when we’d talked. He only responded to what he’d seen on Facebook, and gossip he’d heard.
3) Inability to handle criticism
Donny, as far as he was concerned, tried to help me, and I’d complained about him. That’s all he could comprehend. The idea that his behaviour was behind my complaint hadn’t occurred to him. Instead of seeing the situation (him overreaching into my dating life, me divulging this to the group and this being leaked back to him) as an opportunity to learn, he reacted with offence and hurt.
4) Difficulty in expressing emotions
Donny is a very plain, inexpressive individual. He has a son he rarely sees or even mentions. His ex-wife is a bit of a nutter apparently – a stalker, a bit violent. I don’t really know much of this as he rarely lowers his guard and discusses it. The only real emotion I’ve seen from him is annoyance or offence.
5) Lack of empathy
I had to tell Donny that texting was a much better means of communicating, rather than phoning. I had to explain that, other than my parents, he was the only person who phoned me. Most other people texted, WhatsApped or messaged through socials. It just means people can respond when they’re free to. They don’t have to drop everything to take a call, which wasn’t particularly important anyway. To empathise, you need to grasp that other people’s time is filled with their own goals, work, hobbies, family time, relationships etc. etc. They can’t give up that time to listen to someone waffle about their life.
And no, Donny, I’m not going to drive you and your wife to Wales, even if you pay me. It’s not just the petrol. It’s the TIME. Low-EQ people rarely grasp the idea that other people’s time is their own, and isn’t always for the person asking.
6) Difficulty in building and maintaining relationships
To Donny’s credit, he was on his second marriage, which is more that I can say for myself. His friendships, on the other hand, were a hodge-podge of people from the support group, and the boyfriends of his wife’s friends. He didn’t seem to have any solid male friendships of his own. I expect this was largely due to him pushing them away with an immediate overfamiliarity and an inability to sit in peace on his own.
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To conclude, there isn’t a great deal that you can do to educate these people. People are as smart as they are, and they aren’t going to suddenly grasp ideas that they previously couldn’t. The trick - I now realise - is to be fair, but firm, and to keep a certain distance before you get enmeshed in their problems.
I ended up leaving the Support Group over this and attending a different, Online Group. I only see this new group duringthe 2 hour session in the week, which gives that space and separation, meaning the people who support you in that Group only know what you tell them in the Group. Because you have no other contact, there’s no possibility that you’ll ever feel the need to share anything in the Group about people who attend it. There are other benefits, but in essence, if there is anyone notably lacking EQ in the Online Group, I’m certainly not conscious of it as the conversation is purely structured, so the pitfalls that come with that social clumsiness just aren’t there.
As a result, people are getting the help that they need, without having to complain about the very people that come together to support each other.
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