Being Supportive

Or "What to do when someone you care for is acting the fool."

As I've mentioned in a few previous posts, over the past 11 months, I have been endeavoring to cultivate real connections with others.  I had believed previously that I really did not need to let people get close to me, or to allow myself to get close to others, in order to get well and live a healthy life. Keeping a reasonable distance from others is the plan for a wounded self that wants to protect me from further hurt. Keeping the shields up seems like a good way to stay safe; perhaps it is, but it isn't a very good way to live fully. One of the weird aspects of being human (and trust me, there are many weird aspects) is that in order to live fully, we must risk. We must risk hurt, disappointment, failure, suffering. That sounds strange, but I know from experience that not taking risks, avoiding what my protecting mind tells me is unsafe, creates hurt, disappointment, failure, and suffering. And when I take no risks, there's no upside. When I do take risks - when I allow myself to become vulnerable with other human beings, I then allow for the possibility to experience love - both giving and receiving. A human being might be able to survive without love, but I have come to believe that a human being cannot truly thrive without the capacity to love and to be loved.

So the decision to allow myself to become vulnerable and to make true connections with others was not an easy decision for me. It wasn't a matter of simply switching lanes and doing things differently, like adopting a different style of dress or learning a new language. It's more like dropping the armor and going into the battle naked and unarmed. I knew it was going to get messy, but I also knew that I had to do it or else die a lonely, miserable failure of a human being. I had to give living (loving) one more shot.

I have a friend that I care about and love. My friend has been making some very unwise choices lately that endanger not only their happiness, but their life. It hurts to see this. It hurts to see someone I deeply care about make very short-sighted decisions apparently to avoid the pain that comes with growing up. It hurts to see this person turn from every truly supportive person in their life. It hurts to know that I can't do anything about their situation that would be wise and skillful, other than to remain ready to pick up the pieces, if, hopefully, there are any pieces left to pick up.

I really wanted to rage. I wanted to have the opportunity to say, or scream, "Wtf do you think you're doing? What is wrong with you?" I am grateful that today I possess the wisdom to know that approaching someone in this manner will only push the person deeper into their self-destructive delusions. I know that this person is only doing what they think they need to do in order to protect themselves. I know that this person does not think they are hurting anybody else. How do I know this? Because I've been there.

Throughout my active addiction and mental illness, I made many, many unwise choices that I thought did not harm anybody else but myself. Delusion is a symptom that comes with addiction and mental illness. I realized, after I started caring about people, that although my unwise choices and actions might not have physically hurt those who cared about me, they nonetheless hurt my family and loved ones. I had turned off my capacity for caring, love, empathy, and compassion. Those aspects of myself only got in the way of me getting what I thought I desperately needed. When I flipped those switches back on, I found out that it hurts to love someone who is hurting themselves.

And I can't maintain any kind of anger against my friend. They are not doing this to hurt me, even though it hurts to not have their healthy friendship. They are quite unaware of all of the consequences of their choices.

So there is sadness, and the desire to fix something that I can't fix. But what can I do?

I can be supportive. How? By practicing understanding, compassion, empathy, forgiveness, metta, and unconditional love. Understanding that this person is being driven by forces, both inner and outer, that they are unable to recognize or handle. Right now, they truly are a victim. Understanding that whatever this person is doing, they are not doing it to me. It has absolutely nothing to do with me, and understanding that I own my own feelings about the situation. Compassion and empathy come from taking an honest appraisal of my own experience and situation. I have been where this person is and made many, many more unwise choices, through my own delusions, than this person has yet had a chance to make. Compassion also comes from a deep knowing that I could be exactly where they're at in a very short time. I am not immune from relapse. Forgiveness comes from compassion and understanding, but also from the sure knowledge that I can be of no real help to them, myself, or anybody else while holding a grudge. Grudges keep my hands too full to do anything useful. Forgiveness is simply giving love to a situation, and love is the only thing that truly heals. Metta, or prayer, is practicing sending loving and kind thoughts to that person. It doesn't necessarily change their outcome, but it keeps my mind in a hopeful and faithful position toward this person. And unconditional love is simply knowing who that person really is beneath all the self-destructive behavior - knowing that underneath everything is a precious soul going through an extremely difficult life experience. And unconditional love says I'll be there in person to support this person back to health, if given the opportunity.

Please note that being supportive does not mean doing anything that would compromise my integrity or my own mental or physical well-being. I used to try to rescue (fix) people from time to time. I now know the folly in that endeavor, and that support and rescue are not the same thing.

One might ask, "Ken, does this experience make you want to reconsider your decision to really connect with others, especially those who live with addiction and or mental health issues?" and the answer, surprisingly, is "No." I am still dedicated to developing real connections with others. What I have experienced so far since my decision has been more real peace, belonging, happiness and joy than I have ever experienced previously. I am becoming more and more convinced that the only worthwhile endeavor in life is to know my connection with life through learning how I can be of maximum loving service to others.

I want to end with this: I am still selfish af, only today I practice putting my recovery first rather than me first. It's now 11:45 pm, and if I hadn't sat down to write and process all this through writing, I would have been laying in bed thinking about it, and the thoughts would not have been productive. Over the past few years, I have been able to let go of a ton of suffering that I had been carrying for a really long time, and today I have no desire to pick it up again or create new suffering in my life (or anyone else's!). So there ya have it.

Namasté,

Ken