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Right, pull up a chair, grab a dodgy brew, or whatever your poison is this morning. We’re gonna talk about something that’s been chewing at the edges of my brain for a while now, this peculiar glitch in the human operating system. I’ve seen it play out in newsrooms, in dodgy back-alley deals I’ve reported on, even in a couple of my own relationships if I’m being brutally honest with myself. We’re talking about the ‘sankaka complex’. Yeah, I know, sounds like something a shrink cooked up after too many late nights, but stick with me. It’s real enough, and it’s a right pain in the arse for anyone who’s got it, or anyone who’s trying to get close to someone who does.
What am I on about? Well, picture this: someone finally gets the promotion they’ve been busting their hump for, right? Or they land that dream gig, or find someone who actually cares, properly, for them. And then, without fail, like clockwork, they just… mess it up. Royally. Self-sabotage in Technicolor, mate. It’s not a mistake, not a one-off brain fart. It’s a pattern, a consistent knack for taking something good, something they supposedly wanted, and setting fire to it. Like they just can’t stomach the idea of calm waters or genuine success. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? What kind of wiring goes wonky to make someone pull the rug out from under their own feet, especially when things are going right for once? It’s not about being unlucky, or getting a bad bounce. It’s like they need the chaos, they need the drama, even if it means blowing up their own castle. And for the life of me, sometimes I just stare at these folks and think, ‘What in the bloody hell are you playing at?’
Why Do We Keep Kicking the Good Stuff to the Curb?
It’s a fair question, isn’t it? You see it everywhere once you know what you’re looking for. The fella who builds a cracking business, pulls in some serious dosh, then starts making incredibly daft decisions – overspending, cutting corners, picking fights with his best customers – until the whole thing starts circling the drain. Or the lass who finally finds a sound partner, someone who treats her right, listens to her, and then she starts picking fights, inventing slights, pushing them away until they pack their bags. It’s like they’ve got a bad case of the jitters when things are too smooth.
I reckon a big part of it, for some, is simply not feeling worthy. They’ve been knocked about a bit, maybe grew up in a household where things were always a bit sideways, always a bit chaotic. So, when something genuinely good and stable rolls into their lives, it feels… foreign. Uncomfortable. They don’t recognise it. It’s like a dog that’s only ever known a kennel suddenly gets a big garden to run around in – they might just sit there, confused, waiting for the boot. Or maybe they expect the rug to be pulled anyway, so they figure they might as well do it themselves, get it over with. That way, they’re in control of the inevitable crash. Sad, isn’t it? But that’s how some minds work. They’re stuck in a loop, running away from what they actually want because they believe, deep down, they don’t deserve it. It’s a proper head-scratcher when you see it up close.
The Ghost of Expectations Past
Another angle? The ghosts of expectations past, I call ’em. Sometimes, people are so used to fighting for everything, so ingrained in the struggle, that the idea of not struggling just doesn’t compute. They’ve defined themselves by their battles. So, when the battles stop, when the war is won, they’re left with this gaping hole. What do they do? They invent new battles. They create new problems. They stir the pot, even if that pot is a simmering stew of their own good fortune. It’s a perverse kind of comfort, this familiar discomfort. They’re addicted to the chase, the drama, the struggle, and actual peace feels like a threat to their identity.
I remember this mate of mine, great bloke, always had a scheme on the go. He finally hit it big with a tech start-up, proper millions, the whole shebang. For about six months, he was living the dream. Then, out of nowhere, he started backing some truly barmy ventures, shady deals, frittering away cash on absolute rubbish. We all scratched our heads, ‘What’s he playing at?’ He just couldn’t sit still with the success. He had to be doing something, risking something. Ended up losing a good chunk of it, all because he couldn’t stand the quiet. He couldn’t just be successful. He had to gamble it all away, almost like he was testing fate, or maybe just making sure he stayed the person he always thought he was – the one on the edge, pushing his luck.
The “Too Good to Be True” Syndrome
This one’s a classic. You know the type. Someone gets a great opportunity, a relationship that’s just, well, good. No drama, no massive red flags, just steady, honest kindness. And what do they do? They pick it apart. They start looking for the catch. ‘It’s too good to be true,’ they tell themselves. And because they believe it’s too good to be true, they subconsciously – or sometimes, very consciously – set about proving themselves right. They create the problems that weren’t there. They poke and prod until they find a weakness, or, more likely, create one.
I’ve seen this with a few younger journos who finally get a steady gig at a decent paper. They work their butts off to get in, then spend the first year convinced they’re about to be found out, or fired, or that everyone hates them. Instead of just doing the work and learning, they’re constantly looking over their shoulder, making mistakes out of sheer paranoia, or just annoying everyone by second-guessing every single thing. They’re so convinced they don’t belong, they eventually just wind themselves up into a knot and make themselves miserable, sometimes even quitting because the internal pressure is too much. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, that ‘too good to be true’ rubbish. It’s a real bugbear, that.
Are You a Sankaka Complex Candidate? Ask Yourself This.
So, how do you spot it in yourself, or in someone close to you? It’s not rocket science, but it takes a bit of honest looking in the mirror. Ask yourself:
Do you feel uneasy when things are going smoothly? Like, genuinely unsettled, like the calm before a storm?
Do you tend to find problems where there aren’t any? Or blow small issues up into massive arguments?
Have you consistently sabotaged good things in your past? Be it jobs, relationships, personal achievements?
Do you get a strange thrill from crisis or drama, even when it’s self-inflicted? Like chaos is your natural state?
Do you struggle to accept compliments or genuine affection? Do you deflect it, or try to prove it wrong?
If you’re nodding along to a few of those, aye, you might be wrestling with a bit of a sankaka complex yourself. It’s not a diagnosis, mind, just a pattern to consider.
When Good Fortune Feels Like a Trap
You might think, “Well, why don’t they just stop?” If only it were that simple. For some, good fortune feels less like a gift and more like a massive, terrifying responsibility. It’s like being handed a delicate vase when all you’ve ever handled are unbreakable plastic cups. The fear of dropping it, of messing it up, can be so overwhelming that they just… drop it. On purpose. It’s easier to deal with the broken pieces when you were the one who shattered it, because then you don’t have to live with the anxiety of possibly shattering it later. It’s control, even if it’s control over a bloody mess.
I knew a top-flight musician once, absolutely brilliant on the guitar. He’d finally landed a touring gig with a big name, the kind of break he’d dreamed of his whole life. Two weeks into rehearsals, he just… quit. No warning, no real reason. Said he ‘wasn’t feeling it.’ Later, when he was a bit sloshed, he admitted he’d just panicked. The pressure of being that good, of having that opportunity, felt like a cage. He was terrified he’d choke, that he’d be exposed as a fraud, or that he’d simply get bored of it and disappoint everyone. So he bailed. Did it himself before anyone else could, or before he could face his own anxieties about living up to the dream. Proper gutted for him, I was. That’s a classic example of the sankaka complex chewing you up.
Dodging the Bullet: Practical Tips for Not Self-Imploding
So, you reckon you’ve got a touch of this sankaka complex, or you know someone who does? What do you do? You can’t just wave a magic wand. This ain’t a fairy tale.
1. Spot It First: The first step, as with most things, is seeing the pattern. Look at your past. When did good things go sour? Were you the common denominator? Be honest with yourself. Brutally honest. It’s hard to look at your own muck, but it’s the only way to clean it up.
2. Challenge the Voice: You know that little voice in your head? The one that whispers, ‘This won’t last,’ or ‘You don’t deserve this,’ or ‘Something’s wrong here’? Tell it to shut its gob. Actively challenge those thoughts. Where’s the proof? Is it fact, or just a story you’re telling yourself because it’s familiar?
3. Take a Breath and Do Nothing: When that urge to mess things up hits, when the good feels too good, pause. Take five. Go for a walk. Don’t send that angry text, don’t quit that job, don’t pick that fight. Just breathe. Let the feeling pass. Often, the urge to self-sabotage is just a wave of anxiety, and like all waves, it eventually breaks.
4. Talk it Out (with the Right Folks): Not with just anyone, mind. Find someone you trust, someone who’s got a bit of sense and isn’t afraid to give you the straight goods. A real friend, a family member who sees you clearly, or even a good therapist. Spill the beans. Just articulating these weird feelings can take some of their power away. You don’t have to fix it all at once, just let someone else in on the craziness.
5. Small Steps, Big Wins: Don’t try to fix everything at once. If you’re usually blowing up relationships, try just letting a small disagreement go. If you’re usually quitting jobs, try sticking it out through a rough patch. Celebrate the tiny victories. They build up, mate. They really do. It’s about slowly, painstakingly, showing yourself that stability isn’t a trap, it’s a solid floor.
Look, this ‘sankaka complex’ isn’t some rare disease. It’s just a name for a fairly common, self-defeating pattern of behaviour. It stems from a mix of old wounds, fear, and a twisted idea of what we deserve. But here’s the thing: you can change the script. It ain’t easy, and it definitely ain’t quick, but it’s possible. You can learn to just let good things be good. You can learn to stop reaching for the self-destruct button every time something goes right. It takes grit, a bit of honest self-reflection, and maybe, just maybe, a willingness to be a bit uncomfortable with peace for a while. Because sometimes, the biggest battle isn’t against the world, it’s against the bozo staring back at you from the mirror. And trust me, winning that one? That’s a victory worth holding onto.
