I think I missed my true calling. Instead of getting a degree in English Literature in college, I should have majored in Psychology. It seems I am a magnet for "injured souls" -meaning, people who are hurting, due to matters of the heart, or some life altering lesson, or a crisis of catastrophic proportions. I give great advice, I always want to help, I can build you up like no one else! I always know the right thing to say, or not to say. That's what I have been told. Helping others comes naturally to me. I want to help, to fix things. To be needed. It's who I am. And if I can't fix it/you/them -then I feel I've failed somehow. I don't know why.
And therein, lies the problem. I'm so focused on other people's emotional well being, that I neglect my own. No, I'm not a meddler or a "Nosy-Rosy", but if you come to me for help, I will help, and then some. Sometimes, I think that the fact that I grew up a little too fast and was often left to care for my siblings, while our parents went to work, played a big part. I'm a mother-hen with them for sure. Even now. We're all grown up, married, children (ok THEY are), mortgages etc., but I still worry. I've been told ad-nauseum by my shrink ---why do they call psychiastrists "shrinks" anyway? What exactly are they shrinking? Who came up with that? THOSE are the real questions. So, anyway, my therapist (I told you, I don't like the word "shrink") has embedded in my head, that I need to focus on myself, before I can help anyone else. And that I will be of no use to anyone if I'm not well myself. Makes sense right? You'd think I would listen to her, wouldn't you? Yeah. In a perfect world and all. But nope. Not me. I do things the hard way. Currently, I'm trying to learn not to make rash decisions (as is my nature) and to think with my head, not my heart. To
separate my emotions and not to give in to my inner "Mother Theresa." It's harder for me to do when it involves family. They are my kryptonite. Well, they and a certain someone who shall remain nameless. But that's another story for another time. What is it with me wanting to solve everyone's problems??? There are certain people in my life that are going through hell right now. And I have exhausted myself trying to help them. Mentally, financially, emotionally. I find myself constantly stressed and worrying and crying because I can't make it better. It upsets me. But I know, deep inside my heart, I know that I can't fix it for them. They have to fix themselves. I can be there for them, and lend them moral support. But I can't keep doing what I have been for the past few months. If I keep it up, I''m the one that's going to end up going crazy.
For whatever reason or reasons, I think that the way I am is somehow a flaw. A mark against me. I know, I know, "Here comes the drama queen" -that's what's you're thinking right? But I'm not being dramatic. I truly feel this way. And I don't know why. Further probing into my psyche with my therapist will surely clue me in. At least, that's my hope.
This isn't something new for me. It's just that I'm finally "taking the reins", as it were, of that part of my life, and so all kinds of thoughts and ideas are brewing in my head. Slowly, but very surely, I'm digging myself out of the "emotional black hole" that I have fallen into.
I bet you're glad (if you're still reading this) that you clicked on my blog tonight, aren't you??? ----said I, in full sarcasm regalia.