Is whipping up drama from everyday life down to personality? Or could it be caused by something deeper that warrants investigation? Scott Lyons's new book explores what might fuel those who thrive on the dramatic.
MOST of us know people who we might describe as being “addicted” to drama. They are the ones who cause chaos wherever they go, and for whom inconveniences register as crises. They may be the friends who shine at a dinner party – or the colleagues you give a wide berth at the water cooler. Either way, they end up looming large in our lives as their theatrics emanate outwards, roping us in as players on their stage.
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| Those who thrive on drama may be reacting to forces like social media Justin Lambert/getty images |
As instantly recognisable as this personality type may be, it isn’t often described or discussed – at least not beyond the level of the individual in any scientific sense. But, as clinical psychologist Scott Lyons points out, the world is awash with drama. This comes in many forms, real and contrived, from social media priming us to narrate our lives to reality TV scripting narratives from daily life.
At the heart of Lyons’s new book, Addicted to Drama: Healing dependency on crisis and chaos in yourself and others, is whether so-called addiction to drama is an individual predilection, a pathology or a society-wide concern.
Some individuals, Lyons argues, learned in childhood that the only way to get attention or intimacy was to sweep others up in a whirlwind of their own creation – an instinct amplified by the modern world. The subject is close to his heart, as a self-described reformed “drama queen”.
Lyons describes how he grew up with inconsistent care from his parents and internalised the message that he was only deserving of love when he was in the spotlight. This was exacerbated by bullying at school about his sexuality and learning disability to such an extent that, by the age of 13, Lyons ended up in hospital with mental health problems. In adulthood, he sought out ways to make drama central to his life by working in the performing arts.
Even city living was conducive to a fast pace and high stakes. “I always thought that I was good at handling stress,” Lyons writes. “What I didn’t realise was that I was using it to thrive.” Many of us may be doing the same thing, he suggests. After all, nearly everyone “can identify others as addicted to drama, and yet few identify themselves as such”, he writes.
As works of popular psychology go, Addicted to Drama falls somewhere between a big-ideas book and a self-help manual, with its split between cultural analysis and individual solutions. Lyons’s reliance on qualitative evidence and composite case studies limits the book’s credibility as a work of serious science.
So, too, does the somewhat nebulous concept of “drama” itself, which Lyons is content to leave loosely defined, using it to describe everything from the feeling of exhilaration during a thunderstorm to communication problems in relationships. Even his premise that such an “addiction” is consistent enough to be described – or, indeed, possible – may be a bridge too far for some readers.
But the personality type that Lyons outlines is certainly familiar, perhaps increasingly so, and the links he draws with our “urgent, go-go-go culture and always-on-display social media world” are fresh, persuasive and compelling.
These connections between the individual and the big picture enhance Lyons’s argument – but it is truly elevated by his compassion, no doubt informed by his personal experience. If you have ever found yourself fascinated by someone’s seemingly limitless self-absorption, as displayed on your Twitter feed or at a professional networking event, Addicted to Drama might present another, more sympathetic view.
Behaviours that might easily be dismissed as attention-seeking, or even narcissistic, Lyons shows to be coping mechanisms and cries for help, invariably dating back to childhood neglect or past trauma. In parallel, over the past 15 years or so, the idea of “the self” has become central to our society, with a digital economy built on attracting and holding the attention of others.
It is easy to feel exasperated by people who are forever lighting fires in order to put them out, but Lyons points to a world that is soaked in petrol. At least he hands us a fire extinguisher.
Elle Hunt is a writer based in Norfolk, UK.
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