Dear Sagebrush Sally,
I have a question that feels a little delicate. I have a neighbor here in Tecopa whose behavior has me genuinely concerned and a bit worn out. They seem to need constant attention, turn every situation into a dramatic scene, and often retell events in ways that make them look like the victim or the hero, depending on what gets the biggest reaction. Small disagreements become epic sagas, and if you don’t respond the way they want, they accuse you of being uncaring or cruel.
After doing some reading, I started to wonder if they might have something like a personality disorder—but I also know I’m not a therapist, just a tired neighbor with an internet connection. I don’t want to label or diagnose them, but I also don’t want to keep getting dragged into emotional whirlwinds every time I step outside.
How do I set boundaries and stay compassionate when I suspect someone may be dealing with deeper mental health issues? And how can I protect my own peace without turning into yet another “villain” in their story?
— Trying to Stay Kind, Not Captured
Dear Trying to Stay Kind, Not Captured,
First off, good on you for catching yourself before pinning a label on your neighbor and calling it the truth. Out here, we’ve got enough armchair geologists, sheriffs, and therapists as it is. You don’t need a diagnosis to know when someone’s behavior is exhausting you. You just need to pay attention to how you feel after dealing with them.
Some people are wired for drama. They turn molehills into mountain ranges, center themselves in every story, and feed off of big reactions—tears, anger, praise, outrage, anything loud enough to prove they matter. Whether that’s rooted in a personality disorder, old wounds, or just bad habits is between them and an actual mental health professional. Your job isn’t to figure out why they are the way they are. Your job is to decide what you’re willing and able to participate in.
That starts with boundaries. You can be polite without being available on demand. When the theatrics start, you don’t have to join the show. Short, calm responses work better than long explanations:
“Sorry, I can’t talk about this right now.”
“I’m not getting involved in that.”
“I hope it works out for you, but I’m not the right person for this.”
You’re not required to defend yourself or convince them you’re a good person. Every extra word you offer is just more material for the next scene.
Compassion doesn’t mean surrender. You can feel empathy for the fact that someone might be struggling and still decide not to be their audience. If you’re comfortable, you can gently suggest more helpful support—“Have you talked to a counselor about this?”—but only once or twice. After that, you’re just repeating yourself to someone who isn’t actually looking for change, just for reaction.
And as for ending up the “villain” in their story? Sometimes that’s unavoidable. If someone needs a cast of heroes and enemies to keep their inner movie running, you might get assigned a role you didn’t audition for the moment you stop feeding the drama. Let them. You can’t live your life trying to manage someone else’s script. In a town this small, your character will show over time: steady, kind, but not easily hijacked.
So stay kind—but stay rooted. Say less, engage less, and let silence do some of the work for you. You’re allowed to enjoy your porch, your peace, and your life in Tecopa without being pulled into someone else’s never-ending episode.
— Sagebrush Sally
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