Bailing out when times get tough

[deborahjross]

Elsewhere, a friend who is wrestling with some very hard stuff made a reference to a relationship that became a casualty of said hard stuff. I recently had a chance to meet some other family members of murder victims (more about that when I'm ready to write about it) and one of the questions that came up was whether a significant other (spouse/lover/bestfriend) had been supportive. The question unleashed a flood of response. This is something we don't talk about much, how the people we count on sometimes walk out on us. It happened to me. I wasn't dealing with life-threatening illness, but I went absolutely nuts after the first parole hearing of the man who killed my mother. I ended up having to rebuild my life alone. It took me a long time to let go of feelings of anger and abandonment.

We as a culture have this image that it's noble and wonderful to stand by a loved one who's struggling with hard stuff. Although we don't say it aloud, the implication is that loyalty is a measure of love.

It isn't.

I've come to understand that the people who walk out, don't do so because they don't love us or they're weak or they haven't tried hard enough. They do love us and they hang in there as long as they can. The bottom line, though, is that no matter how empathetic they are, no matter how many books they read on whatever we are facing or how many counseling sessions we attend together, they are not living our lives. We all come to a place where we run out of emotional and physical resources, where we just can't see our way through, where there's nothing left to give and the darkness, the pain, the fear are unrelenting. We all crumble under such oppressive weight. The difference is that they can crawl back into "normal life" and we can't.

I believe that the ones who love us and leave us wish beyond words that they could take us with them.

Something breaks in us both, but they get to put their lives back together without our agony and we don't. But we can do it, anyway. The miracle is that even when they give up on us (or so it seems) and we give up on ourselves, something remains, something tenacious and faithful. Maybe it's a part of ourselves that we can experience only in extremis. Maybe it's something beyond or outside ourselves. Maybe it's a moment of kindness from an unexpected source.

It is the seed not only of survival and growth but of forgiveness. It is a whisper of hope for us all.

Comments

[pfflyernc.livejournal.com]

Here via Metaquotes, and I just wanted to say thank you so much for posting this. It sounds like you have arrived at a very wise, loving place.

We as a society do seem to have "whatever it takes" expectations about helping our loved ones, and sometimes that's just not realistic. But because no one ever talks about it, the person who is "left" often feels abandoned and angry (as you noted) while the person who "leaves" often feels guilty, helpless, and inadequate. I know I did.

[deborahjross.livejournal.com]

We get so many admonitions that create and intensify unrealistic -- and inhuman -- expectations of ourselves. When we pour all our energies into a vain attempt to "measure up," we also cut ourselves off from what would help us to walk through difficult times with compassion. kindness, and understanding.

There are no "bad guys" here - we are all human beings, frail and magnificent.