Calling the Bulldog

It was time to call The Bulldog.  That was the affectionate nickname the Pastor gave to his Conflict Coach.  She was a therapist, a mediator, an advisor, a mother confessor, a task master—and sometimes all within the space of three sentences.  He paid her for her services and sometimes had a hard time explaining the expense to the church treasurer.  But her time, perspective and support were worth every penny.  She answered on the second ring.

“Yes, it does sound like you’ve been set up,” she said after listening to the Pastor’s brief review of the context and events.  “So let’s prepare first for this meeting tonight.  How are you feeling about that gathering and those people?”

“Well, I’m terrified that I will be humiliated, criticized, judged a failure and asked for my resignation.”  He puked out the words without thinking, but that was all the truth.  He was afraid.

“I appreciate you sharing so honestly and fully,” the Bulldog said with soothing tones.  “It’s so important to identify the ways you are primed for an encounter before it happens.  That way you can practice your responses and stand less of a chance of blowing up the whole conversation.”

“Primed?”  This was a new term in the conversation.  “What do you mean by that?  I’m not sure I understand.”

“Think about it this way.  You put your granddaughter into her little red wagon and you take her up the hill near your house.  As you take her up the hill, you are actually accumulating energy in the system of you, your granddaughter and the wagon.  When you get to the top of the hill, how much energy does it take to send that wagon to the bottom of the hill at full speed?”

“It would only take a little nudge,” said the pastor.  “But I wouldn’t do that.  It wouldn’t be safe for her.”

He could almost hear the nod and smile on the other end of the phone.  “Of course not!  That’s exactly right.  The system is primed to release all that energy.  But you can make choices about how you do that—all at once in a wild ride to the bottom, or gradually and in a controlled and safe way.  Since you know that the system is primed in that way, you can make the right decision at the moment and come out all right in the end.”

The light began to dawn.  “I see.  So by knowing how I’m being tipped emotionally in one direction or another, I can make choices about how to get through this meeting.”

“That’s it,” she said.  “Now what else are you feeling about the meeting tonight?”

“Well, I damned irritated at Bill for the whole situation.  And I’m feeling more than a little paranoid about what else he has up his sleeve.  And I’m pretty well pissed at the Personnel Committee chair for being so easily manipulated and taken in.  And I would really like to know who started the whole gossip cascade that has filled my morning with such a load of…well, horse manure.”

“So, you have a few things that are wiring you up for an amygdala hijack, huh?”

“What is this today—a vocabulary test?  What in the world is a Magdalene Hijack?  Is this when some woman in the bible takes over an airplane?  I’m not clear about this.”

“Very funny.  It’s amygdala, not Magdalene.  I do have to give you extra credit for creativity on that one, of course.  No, I’m talking about the reflex responses we can make when we feel threatened or vulnerable.  If we’re not consciously prepared, we can launch into emotional tirades and storms that we wish we could take back.  An amygdala hijack is named for the little part of the brain that can take over when we are faced with a fight/flight/freeze situation.  It’s the part of our brain we still have in common with snakes.”

“Oh, I’m feeling so much better now that you’re comparing me to a snake.”

“Poor baby,” the Bulldog cooed.  “It’s not that the amygdala is the only thing at work.  Our brain has an emotional response system.  But ‘amygdala hijack’ is a convenient label for this involuntary process.  This is the thing that kicks in when we’re screaming at someone and wondering who this crazy person is that’s doing the screaming.  The best antidote for a hijack is preventive medicine—identifying your primes, rehearsing what you might hear, and practicing your responses.”

“So you’re saying—as you always do—that I have choices in how to respond, right?”

“Right.  So is there anything else that might be going on here that needs identifying before we start practicing responses?”

“I think the biggest deal is how I’m feeling about Bill—especially in terms of how he is using his own brother to create havoc.  That’s his own brother, for crying out loud!  How can anyone do that to their own flesh and blood!  Here’s this poor guy—his life is falling down around his ears.  He comes to his brother for help.  And that…that…piece of garbage uses the situation to make life worse for everyone.  How can that be?”

“Thanks for getting to that piece of the puzzle.  You know that curbside analysis is always close to useless.  But I can speculate a bit.  From what you’ve described, Bill is a pathological narcissist and a happy bully.  Everyone in the world is a bit player in his drama.  In all likelihood, Bill has very little actual capacity for empathy.  That sort of narcissist is kind of a low-grade sociopath.  He can’t step into the experience of another person.  In fact, he probably doesn’t believe that other people actually have experiences worth worrying about.  The whole world is about him.”

“So he suffers from low self-esteem and compensates by making other people feel bad, right?”

“No, most bullies and narcissists don’t really suffer from lack of self-esteem.  In fact, the problem may be an excess of self-regard.  Bill may have an inflated and inaccurate estimate of his own importance in the world.  Has he ever acted uncertain, insecure, humble or self-deprecating in any way?”

The pastor thought for a moment or two.  “No, now that you mention it, I haven’t ever heard Bill be anything but brash, cocky, irritating and grating.  He is always sure he is right.  He has often said he made a mistake once, but he got over it.  I think you’ve got him pegged just about right.”

“So you have to tread very carefully on this one.  Bullies attract insecure people like light attract moths.  In the end the effect is the same.  They will get scorched.  But in the meantime, Bill has lots of allies and can do huge amounts of damage to many people.  I would guess that the end game is finding a way to wall Bill off from the rest of the congregation as much as possible.  Withdrawal is often the only effective strategy with hardcore bullies.  But we’ll see.”

“I think I feel a little woozy,” the pastor sighed.

“Let’s take a break.  Get some fruit juice and a granola bar.  Get up and walk around the block three times.  Then call me back and we’ll do some more work.”

“Got it,” the pastor said.  Things were looking up.