Especially these days, many of us communicate with friends digitally. Some meet via Zoom, others talk on the phone, and still others text or instant message. These methods of communication all have pros and cons. Some leave the opportunity for a monkey wrench thrown into the mix.
I was chatting with friends in an online forum-type setting last night. At one point, one person in the chat essentially announced himself as a visitor by saying that he was “using” the account. From this, we inferred that he was not the normal user of the account. (Quizzically, I sent him a private message, via the same chat service, asking what was going on. I wasn’t convinced it was an alternate user, but via private message, he told me to ask him about his identity in the main chat.) I proceeded to ask him who he was… and a chat war ensued.
First, he attempted to tell me that he was the account holder. No dice, but he pursued the point for the remainder of the evening. Then he opted to undermine my reasoning for why he couldn’t be the account holder; again, no dice, but the argument was starting to look water-resistant. The next stop was self-degradation (of the account holder, a persuasion tactic to make me believe he was picking on himself). At this point, I held fast to knowing that he was an imposter, but I wasn’t certain; this friend would intermittently self-deprecate, but not like this; in fact, the things he mentioned weren’t things I thought the account holder thought of in a negative light. But then, he struck gold.
He vilified my contributions to a previous discussion.
I was a little shocked, a little amused, and too concerned with what was happening to think clearly. Sharing a picture I had sent him (which was of no import but the sharing of it still felt like a knife struck through the heart and twisted violently), he mocked me with several messages that followed. These messages included what appeared to be a psychological threat, something totally out of character for him but, between it sounding like something he had mentioned previously and my lack of clarity, I was quite concerned that it was. While my friend has shown his teeth in the past, this attack had far more bite to it than I ever anticipated from him. There was bitterness and intentional nastiness in his tone.
After a couple of minutes of his repeated messaging, I responded privately. I repeatedly attempted to ask him what was going on, and he kept with his story. He also continued to heckle me. Then, still professing to be my friend the account holder, he said the purpose of the discussion had been “to bait people… for entertainment.”
That’s how the conversation ended: without resolution as to whether it was my friend on the other side of the screen.
For the first time, I force closed the app to make sure I wouldn’t get any notifications. I fumbled around for a while, mentally struggling with the event. I went to bed trying to square how my friend ended up in such a vitriolic state given that, about half an hour before this queer discourse occurred, he was telling me that his day had gone relatively well. Even so, he doesn’t meaningfully lash out; what could have caused that? And the dreaded question: what do I do about it?
For my own sake, I needed to give him the benefit of the doubt; however, I couldn’t verify anything, and the person in charge of the account had claimed to be my friend. If it was really him… I went through various scenarios, none of which I liked. Every so often, I would feel pulled from the task at hand to consider another response. I was quite focused throughout the day – until a new retort popped into my head. Most of my day was caught between productivity and torment: if that really was my friend, and there isn’t anything I can do to help, I need to cut ties. The thought sucked.
Normally, I duck on for a minute or two several times per day. Today, I waited until late afternoon, when all of my other tech was glitching and I needed a brain break, to open up the app. The first thing I see is a public apology for the actions of the imposter the previous night. My wary response garnered an assurance that the imposter was dealt with. As the normal banter of the chat resumed, my heart lifted. As the friend turned to pick on me, the playful nature of the jab shone through. Yup: we good.
In less than twenty hours, my perspective was shaken, shifted, crumbled, clung to whatever it could grasp, and rebuilt itself. I had made more decisions on what to say than on whether or not to say anything at all. Particularly as this was a friend I had grown to trust rather rapidly, I questioned my own judgment, including both my rationale and my instincts. With a move to a new city pending, it also led me to question my ability to properly make friends. However, by the end of the day, the ship righted itself.
The joy that can be found in the virtue of patience! While I did well with my in-the-moment responses to the imposter, there was certainly plenty of room for improvement after the fact. If only I had allowed the scenario to play out, if only I had not dwelt on it, then I would have saved myself a good bit of worry while keeping the same positive result.
