Fix

Starting sometime in my teens, I began to believe that my purpose was to support and help the people around me. For way too long, I pushed down my own feelings and interests in favor of what others seemed to need of me. I’ve talked previous about my fear of not being worth remembering. This trait came out of wanting to have some sort of value. It was reinforced by what I like to call Too-Much-Church. The result was often feeling rundown and ashamed for not being able to do more.

In the first few years of my teaching career, I would get so frustrated that the kids wouldn’t cooperate the way I wanted. Yes, there were skills I need to refine, and had a noticeable lack of support. However, I took many things personally. Every incident and outburst embarrassed me. Derailed lesson plans brought up feelings of inadequacy. Asking for help made me cringe. Thoughts of “If only...if only...if only…” swirled through my head.

During my third or fourth year, a few things clicked into place. I realized the majority of my frustrations were a result of trying to fix their whole lives. Their families, their communities, their attitudes. An impossible task.

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Yesterday, as I was writing the above, I got a message that, coincidentally, ties into the current “fix” situation I wanted to talk about. The nature of it doesn’t leave me the head space to finish what I was writing at the time. There may be another opportunity. The essential part is that once I shifted my focus to things I could do (ie teach good science lessons), I had better relationships with the students and was more content overall.

Relevant to the present situation was the much harder lesson of learning how to help and support people in healthy ways. I have distinct memories throughout my 20s and early 30s of believing if I could figure out how to care for some the right way, their problems would be fixed. This put a lot of pressure on me and the other person. Thoughts like “If they would just…” or “If I could just…” were prevalent, especially at bedtime.

Even as I realized that “fixing” people was no way to live, I continued to prioritize other people’s problems over my own. I wouldn’t talk about the things that really, really bothered me unless I’d been able to rationalize it to some extent and I could sure that it wouldn’t make my confidant’s burdens worse. And if my hard time was the result of another’s personal issues? No way I’d bring that up. My hurt feelings were my own fault because I wasn’t doing enough to understand their perspective.

This, of course, was not sustainable. Gradually, eventually, all my efforts to be strong, supportive, and untouchable collapsed upon itself. I know now that these habits were rooted in my inability to believe I had any intrinsic worth. Accepting that I had value was hard. Hard hard. I spent the first 7 months of 2017 in tears almost daily as I faced all the hurts – big and small – I’d been ignoring for a lifetime. Even now, here on the other side, I still struggle with many of the same habits. However, now I’m able to recognize what’s going on and can respond differently. I vastly prefer this way of living.

Back to yesterday. It’s necessary that I be vague because this involves another person’s story, but a close friend of mine is going through a very rough time. Over the course of the week, Friend stopped replying to me. I wasn’t too concerned. Given the nature of their personality and the stuff on their plate, stepping back made sense to me.
However, as the days progressed, I began to wonder if I was being avoided. This was confirmed Thursday evening, after not acknowledging me or my messages in any way, I learned I’d been effectively cut out of a regular event.

This hurt. The majority of my self-protective habits were developed to prevent this exact thing. This person knows this about me. I do not believe Friend was in the frame of mind to even consider the impact. At the same time, the more a person is trusted, the greater their ability to hurt.

I stewed about what to do for a while. Even though it wasn’t my favorite, I was okay with Friend wanting a bit of space from me. A chance to connect better with other friends. This method, however? No. Just no. In the end, I composed a text saying as much. I tried to be kind while also being clear that this sucked. I originally intended to send it late Friday morning. After all, I knew they were in a low place after a hard week. But as the minutes passed and sleep did not come, I realized that delaying was another instance of me making allowances for how another person has treated me.

So, I sent it. No response, no surprise.

Late Friday morning, about 12 hours after sending the text, I got a message from another person close to Friend. They were worried because Friend was acting out of character. I got them in touch with someone better able to address the situation, and...that’s it.

I don’t know what happened. I do know that the biggest concern was quickly resolved. Anything else would be speculation. I can say that in the moments between receiving the message and learning of the resolution, I felt the full force of why I’m afraid to tell people about how their actions affect me,

As heartbroken as I am, and as much as I hate all of this, I don’t feel the text was a mistake. I’d have done differently if I’d known differently, but I don’t feel ashamed or guilty. There are things going on that are bigger than me, things I can’t fix. Friend has my full support, more than I think they understand. And I’m starting to understand what it looks like to be a good friend while being honest about myself.

Friend will reach out eventually. Hopefully. Life takes time.