Liies I Told Myself (Part 3)_My Job to Heal and Fix Broken People

 

I was a sensitive child who felt other people’s pain easily. Even at four years of age, I felt sorry for my parents when they seemed emotionally out-of-control. Early in life, I accepted the assignment of trying to love my parents out of their pain which they expressed with alcoholism, sexual abuse, controlling behavior, yelling, emotional abuse, etc. Looking back it is so clear that I felt it was my job to heal and fix them. At seven years of age, I realized that God was the one who would be able to heal my parents, not me. But I still believed that if I was loved my parents enough (through my words and deeds) that I could be the important catalyst that would lead them to radically change their lives in healthy ways.

Photo by Michael Conners http://www.mconnors.com/

I took these same attitudes into my marriage as a teen/young adult. My spouse was someone else who had lots of pain inside and a brokenness that kept him from healthy decisions and behavior. His expressions of pain included addictive tendencies, paranoia, compulsivity, suicide threats,  difficulty keeping a job and abuse. The expressions of pain had different labels but the only difference for me was that as a spouse I heard a lot more stories and details about why my spouse was broken and hurting.

In the name of love (and being an un-invited therapist), I tried to carry the burdens that seemed too heavy for my loved ones to carry. I felt their pain as if it was my own. I listened to rage, to bitterness, to resentment, to anger, to depressed feelings, and to drunken perceptions with my whole heart. I committed myself to helping them to feel better and to carrying away as much of their pain as I could manage. I’d carry the pain hidden inside of me. I didn’t talk to anyone about it, not even God.  I also bore other people’s secrets they hadn’t ever told anyone else. I couldn’t take direct action on any of the secrets (because they weren’t my issues to solve), but I carried them locked away inside of me.

By ninth grade, I knew that I had natural counseling and teaching skills that are a part of my personality type. At the time, this knowledge merely strengthened my conviction that I must spend a life time carrying other people’s pain for them--so they’d have a fighting chance to decide to engage in the work and pain of radical change.
 

My self-assigned job of fixing broken people, came about because there was an obvious need and there wasn’t anyone else available to do the job. The job wasn't very rewarding. I was known as a nice person, but the broken people in my life remained broken. I learned the hard way that when someone isn’t looking for any help, when they are not dissatisfied with the way they are living, when they deny they have any issues hindering their happiness and health--they remain dysfunctional. As an adult, I finally know (intellectually, emotionally and spiritually) that no one makes radical healthy changes in their life when they aren’t the ones seeking a healthier life. It doesn’t matter how much anyone else is eager to help them.



Photo by LadyHeart achurch@hbci.com

Now that I am middle-aged, I can see clearly that the result of my faulty belief (of being a fixer of in-pain-broken people) was that I became a nice companion and handy trash can for more than a few abusive and psychologically unhealthy people. When they behaved inappropriately they received empathy and gentleness from me. When they behaved insanely I tried to comfort them. When they raged I apologized a lot and tried harder to make their lives less stressful. When others told me vivid details about crimes they’d committed, how much they hated another, or how resentful and suspicious they were, I tried to calm them and show that I accepted them 100% no matter what they did. I forgave by excusing. I listened by storing what wasn’t mine. I received other’s anger in quantities that stole my own energy and peace. I identified to others to the extreme point of losing track of my own emotions. I felt sorry for the other’s pain and completely ignored how I felt after spending time with them.

Today, I do things differently. I now avoid close relationship with anyone who demonstrates regularly through their actions that they are satisfied with their dysfunctional lifestyle. If I realize I am trying to fix or heal another, I detach (by remembering I can only change myself) and I turn them and their feelings into God’s loving and capable hands.  I now focus on doing my own emotional processing to keep myself healthy and realize that other people have the choice to do their own emotional processing.

All these changes in my own choices have come out of letting go of my own warped perceptions and embracing reliable truths. I still think abuse is tragic and the roots of what leads someone into being abusive are also sad. But I realize now that a sad or tragic or frightening past doesn’t make acting out to harm others right. In addition, I’ve proved to myself that no one else can fix a person who engages in self-abuse and/or other-abuse. Counselors can offer help to those who truly seek help, but all the power for change comes from within the broken person. No one else can create any lasting change inside of someone else.

Have you tried to fix or heal broken and/or abusive people? How did it work out?

Related Articles:

Healthy or Abusive?

Is This Good for You?

Generational Abuse

Tweetables:

I Thought I Could Help Fix Broken People Click to Tweet

Another Doormat Idea Click to Tweet

Don't be a Trash Can for Abusers Click to Tweet

Lies I Believed (Part 2)--Criticism Meant I Had Failed, Again

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When I was young, I desperately wanted to believe that if I did something well enough, then I wouldn’t be criticized or punished. I’m not sure anyone ever said this to me directly, but I hoped and believed it. I believed the corollary as well, if I was criticized, then obviously I must have done something wrong. For example, if I asked my parent a question and got yelled at, then I must try harder next time to word it “better” or to use a quieter voice, or something.

 

When I wanted something like a pair of shoes without holes, I was told (with words, tone or body language) that I was selfish. I would then vow to never notice holes in my shoes again. I became “un-selfish” by never verbalizing any needs. It seemed to protect me from some criticism, so I globalized it to almost all situations for many years.

 

This philosophy of having no needs seemed effective in many situations as a child. One situation in which it didn’t work was during long car trips. I would need to use a restroom for a long time but would ignore it, hoping that my parent would stop sometime soon without me having to say anything.  My need grew and I would eventually realize that I was about to have an accident and that would also anger my parents. Whether I spoke up about my need or remained silent about it, I wasn’t going to be praised--so in such dire cases I would eventually, voice my need. After being scolded or hearing an angry sigh or being angrily glared at for causing trouble, my parent would pull over at a rest stop and let me use the restroom. I didn’t feel good about voicing my real need, I felt guilty for causing my parent’s irritation.

Photo by Anita Peppers http://morguefile.com/creative/anitapeppers

 

When I was 19, I married an abusive spouse who also found all of my needs inconvenient. He was the one with needs and I was the one who must fulfill his needs. When my husband said that I made him feel like killing himself because I suggested he speak more gently to our children, I concluded that I was a mean person who drove people insane with unreasonable requests. It wasn’t clear to me how I was mean, I hadn’t meant to be unkind I was just trying to help my children, but on an emotional level I believed I must have messed up the communication in some way that I wasn't smart enough to figure out. I doubted myself more as the years went by and I spoke less and less from my heart. I attempted to avoid any subject which might be heard by my husband as a criticism. I had no wish to hurt my spouse, but I couldn’t seem to figure out the rules so I often didn’t speak my thoughts. Over the fourteen years of our marriage I globalized my thinking to most people. I became more and more isolated through my great hesitation to voice any needs, requests or thoughts.

Bottom line, I believed I should always please everyone and most especially those with whom I lived. I wanted to be a kind and gentle person, but on a frequent basis I seemed to be the cause of my parent's and spouse's anger, hurt or depression. I tried harder and harder to please—but I almost always failed to please them. II was driven to succeed—to be good enough, kind enough; bright enough; but my efforts didn’t work.

 

Having done a lot of healing, I no longer assume that all criticism is deserved. Now I know that if someone is deeply depressed, you can’t cheer them up by saying the right thing. When someone is angry about most things almost every day, you can’t please them with kind actions. When someone is controlling, you can’t do anything right enough to avoid his/her correction or criticism. When someone is sexually abusive, you won’t be praised for dressing modestly. When someone is bitter, you can’t be gentle enough to break through their warped perceptions. When someone gains emotional benefit from belittling others, you aren’t going to receive much praise. When someone habitually becomes intoxicated, you can’t say the perfect things to make them see that alcohol is hurting their relationships. No matter how careful you are with your words you can't avoid receiving unjust criticism from abusive people.

 

Abusive people criticize, belittle, and lash out. They judge, punish and threaten family members, regardless of how hard someone might try to love them, please them or help them. As I gained more and more distance from abusive people, I discovered that I don’t need to go crazy trying to be pleasing and right. Non-abusive people like me just the way I am. Like all humans, I make mistakes and don’t do everything right, but I no longer find it necessary to expend energy on trying to be pleasing through silence in order to avoid criticism and/or punishment. I no longer accept the toxic waste that abusers like to project onto others.

 

I now know that voicing needs isn’t selfish—it’s a human necessity. Asking for respectful behavior isn’t disrespectful—it’s an appropriate request.

 

Did you ever believe that you must have done something wrong whenever you were criticized or punished? Have you spent inordinate amounts of energy on trying to please someone?

 

Related Articles:
 I Lost Myself

Victim Blues

It's Not About You


Tweetables:  


This misconception made me a doormat Click to Tweet


An abuser's reaction is not a reliable mirror Click to Tweet


 

 

Lies I Believed (Part 1): Anger is always Bad