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

[http://users.livejournal.com/la_marquise_de_/]

That's both very wise and very forgiving. Thank you.

[calendula-witch.livejournal.com]

Human hearts are extraordinarily complicated.

So are relationships.

So are breakups.

[gmdreia.livejournal.com]

What I can see is that in a time when family units have almost totally splintered, it's harder to be there for someone... Because you are there for someone who has no one else, and because you don't have support, either.

And this is beautiful beyond words, can I metaquote part of it? Not the part that references your personal experience.

[jaylake.livejournal.com]

Yeah.

Sigh.

[sartorias.livejournal.com]

Beautifully said, yet painful to read.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

You're a lovely person. Your greatness of heart and soul move me.

[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.

From metaquotes

[iczer6.livejournal.com]

That was a lovely sentiment.

[kyryn.livejournal.com]

Well said.

[gmdreia.livejournal.com]

This post generated quite a bit of controversy over at metaquotes. Some saw it as an absolution of guilt for people who might abandon their friends in a time of need.

That's not how I took it; it seemed to offer hope and compassion to the abandoned, and urge them to have compassion to their abandoners.

[msagara.livejournal.com]

I tweeted this, because I found it wise and illuminating.

People in pain, people going through a crisis that doesn’t end, see -- very rightly -- their own pain. They privilege it because they can’t help but do so. But it’s very blinding; they see what they need, what they fear, what they can’t move past...

And they fail to see what their partners/friends fear or need; they barely have the mental energy to deal with their own lives at that point; they don’t have the energy to deal with their loved ones. But...their loved ones can only set aside their own lives and needs and hopes for so long.

I don’t know if you’ve read Sugar, on the The Rumpus, but one of her columns touches on this in an entirely different way: http://therumpus.net/2010/07/dear-sugar-the-rumpus-advice-column-44-how-you-get-unstuck/

The only case in which I feel it’s almost impossible to make good, healthy choices for oneself in a separation involve children, especially young children. And yet, the difficulties are often exactly the same as the difficulties faced by a partner.

[vesta-aurelia.livejournal.com]

Here from metaquotes.

Thank you for this. Thank you.

[beforethed4wn.livejournal.com]

Thank you for writing this, I found it through metaquotes during a very painful conversation with a friend who is reaching that point in her relationship- and we cried together about it. It's very true, and I will keep that in my mind, and in my heart for the rest of my life.

From a survivor a lot of things that shouldn't have happened to someone my age (I'm 23) during my childhood,

Thank you.