Repeat problems
A field guide to Energy Vampires
Growing up, my father had a handful of wise words on rotation but the top three were: “no whining” (this one might have been reserved for me), “never do business with a nut” (something that’s proven more relevant personally and professionally than I could have ever imagined), and the interactive “what don’t I like?” where we learned quickly the correct answer was “repeat problems.”
Whether genetic or hard-coded from the call and response, I inherited the same aversion. Repeat problems drive me absolutely insane. They’re, at best, a warning sign that something might be broken in the system and, at worst, recurring trauma and proof of inefficiency and ineffectiveness.
This is why I’ve become a bit of a connoisseur of a particular kind of repeat problem: the energy vampire. Not the one-time crisis that drains you but the recurring presence of a person or situation that shows up daily, weekly, or seasonally and siphons off all your energy with the same dynamic, over and over, with no solution in sight.
Over the years, I’ve identified three distinct species:
The Mood Vampire
We just returned from Christmas vacation where I had the chance to interact with the Mood Vampire again: the person whose negativity and frozen miserable face drags everyone down. In this case, it’s Middle who becomes the Mood Vampire whenever their blood sugar is low (but also is rarely hungry) so we usually are navigating this energy vampire into the early afternoon. Come 2 or 3 PM, he’s a delight. Prior to that, he just radiates misery.
It happens every day, it’s completely predictable, and it’s totally unfixable. “Just get him some food” you might say. But even after buying a $16 breakfast sandwich at a fancy resort, he’ll take two bites slowly, not speak to anyone, and complain when two hours later, the sandwich is cold. The Mood Vampire might be temporary but those early moments of interaction (or lack thereof) are brutal.
The Couch Vampire
My college had Winter Study, a January term where we studied fun, non-academic, but extremely useful things like Spanish cooking and humor writing. What I didn’t appreciate was that it was a gift to my parents, who paid tens of thousands of dollars for me to actually be on campus. Youngest, on the other hand, has a seven-to-eight-week winter break.
I love having my kids home for the holidays but once the holidays wrap and we head into the long dark days of winter, the dynamics have historically been tedious. Jeff and I would go back to work and our regular routines and Youngest typically settled into her January routine which involved sitting in one spot on the couch all day either watching something on her phone or playing on her Switch. Technically it wasn’t all day because her day started after lunch. But, like a bear hibernates in a cave and slows down all body functions to conserve energy, that’s what the Couch Vampire practiced right in front of us. In my usual sofa spot.
When Youngest was 15 or 16, on the emotional roller coaster that is adolescence, it felt like negativity emanated from her and I saw any kind of positivity or potential disappear into the couch cushions for 49 days. Worse still, she always set up camp in my spot on the couch, vacating it for dinner but the warm indent served as a reminder of someone else’s wasted hours and the only solution was for school to start again: a repeat problem for which I could do nothing to change things.
This year is Youngest’s last college winter break and supposedly she will be spending the month of January working on her thesis and finding a job so we’ll see if maturation and the circle of life kills this vampire like a wooden stake.
The Vibes Vampire
Often spotted in the workplace, the Vibes Vampire is especially dangerous because what starts as solidarity in a chaotic and frustrating work environment evolves to toxicity that you’re caught up in, perpetuating, and exacerbating. Early on, you’re bonding over your shared misery. Sending a side text after your boss says something completely ludicrous or making eyes during an unnecessary meeting. This kind of commiseration is important to make you feel less alone or crazy in an environment that’s otherwise draining.
Over time, however, you see that whenever you spot signs of improvement, the Vibes Vampire tells you they won’t last. When you offer solutions, they don’t want them, and when you encourage them to speak up, they say there’s no point. You realize that the Vibes Vampire actually feeds off the toxicity. They’re attached to the complaint and that’s what’s giving them energy to survive when you’re feeling more negative and worn down. It’s the same complaint, again and again.
To be fair, often this person is not wrong. But at the same time, they’re usually not helpful. Even if the environment is beyond repair, engaging with them means you carry that perpetual negativity home with you. The very same thing that made you feel supported and not crazy now just makes you feel bad. And, if you’re a hater of repeat problems, it makes you feel guilty for being part of it.
Honestly, I should hate the Vibes Vampire. Same complaint, different day, forever. A repeat problem in human form. And yet I kept responding to their Slacks. Just like I kept thinking Middle might wake up in a good mood or that Youngest might suddenly want to do something active for an afternoon. In all cases, it’s a trap.
When you’re raised to loathe, identify, solve, and move on from repeat problems, being surrounded by people who ARE repeat problems becomes your problem.
Ultimately, I should know better. The question of “What don’t I like? Repeat problems” isn’t instructing me to not be a repeat problem or to solve them for others, but to ignore and not give fuel to those creating them. I can literally identify all of these Vampires in the wild so either I will learn to avoid for whatever period of time the vampires are out (until 2 PM/for seven weeks/until I leave the job) OR I will stop being part of the repeat problem myself. I’m the one who keeps engaging when I know it’s hopeless.
Middle is back in their own world so I don’t have to engage. Youngest promises this winter will be different. And I’m no longer at that job so now I only text ex-coworkers about fun things.
That’s how I’m protecting my energy as I head into the new year.






Very funny! This gave me a shiver of recognition!