Writing as Healing: Learning to Recognize Toxic People and Reclaiming My Energy

Writing as Healing: Learning to Recognize Toxic People and Reclaiming My Energy

In life, we encounter all kinds of people. I once wrote a children’s storybook about narcissistic personality disorder, inspired by my own painful experiences of dealing with such individuals. I had suffered emotional distress and lost precious years of my life to toxic relationships. That experience taught me how essential it is to protect our peace by surrounding ourselves with kind and healthy people.
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But in the past, I lacked the ability to discern who was truly good for me and who was harmful. Our society often pressures us to be kind, to forgive endlessly, to be understanding no matter what. Yet there are shrewd, toxic people who exploit exactly that — our goodness. They prey like hyenas on gentle and sincere souls who don’t yet know how to set boundaries.

Through painful encounters with toxic personalities, I learned the value of discernment, boundaries, and the healing power of writing.

Now, I have learned to recognize them early. When I meet such a person, I draw a firm line from the beginning and refuse to let them enter my circle. Life is too short — even spending it with good people never feels like enough. When I look back, I see that rude or toxic people formed relationships only for their own benefit. There was never true reciprocity or balance.

These individuals tend to test boundaries little by little. It starts with a harmless favor — something easy to grant. If you agree, they push further, increasing the demands. Once they feel they have full control, the tone shifts: mockery, manipulation, and subtle cruelty begin. It’s a clear pathological pattern. That’s why it’s crucial to react early — for example, by saying, “If I help you this time, would you also help me when I need something?” It reminds them that respect goes both ways.

However, kind-hearted people often think, “It’s fine, I can help a little.” But we must remember: our time and energy are precious resources. They should only be invested in relationships that are mutual and respectful. Otherwise, being around a toxic person drains you completely — like having a straw stuck in your back, your energy pulled in the wrong direction.

Another tactic of toxic people is to trigger sympathy early on. They tell you about their surgery, their illness, their painful past, or a difficult childhood — stories that should only come out in deeper relationships. Hearing this, we start to think, “This poor person has suffered so much; maybe I should help.” But that’s the trap. I’ve learned to be cautious when someone evokes pity too easily. The genuinely good people in my life never behave that way.

Being around rude or manipulative people takes a toll. You feel tired, even physically unwell, as if your immune system is lowered. You have to keep explaining basic decency and boundaries, as if teaching common sense to someone who refuses to learn. I used to try to correct such people, but now I no longer bother. They never intended to understand or respect others in the first place. They only saw relationships through the lens of usefulness — and once you’re no longer useful, you’re discarded without hesitation.

What remains afterward is exhaustion. That’s why we must either build discernment or grow stronger against stress — ideally, both. Over time, I’ve stopped expecting anything from such people.

Recently, I found myself returning to my painting desk. After a period of illness and emotional turbulence, I healed — physically through the help of doctors, and emotionally through the warm support of kind people. At last, I felt creative energy flowing back into me. Interestingly, during that difficult time, writing became an even deeper source of healing than painting. Through writing, I was able to process my pain and regain clarity.

Now I truly believe that writing is a form of prayer. It’s like lighting a candle in silence and sitting face-to-face with your inner self. Through words, the heart is purified; through reflection, new strength emerges. Since I began writing daily, I’ve developed a greater immunity to hurt and negativity.

As I finish this essay, I feel profound gratitude for the act of writing itself — whether through my blog or my private journal. Writing heals me. It grounds me. It restores my faith in life. Each time I write, I realize again that words have the power to save.

Because today, once again — writing has saved me.