Professional friend

I’m an active person: I can’t just listen; I need to react and I do so by sharing opinion, advice or a just similar story. I guess that makes people more open to me and they often seek my help and advice. That makes me feel helpful and important, since it seems I have something to give. My help comes from the heart and from all the lessons I learned from my experiences. I’m not one to just experience: I analyze and learn. But it may sound like I’m too self-centered, I’ve never intended to hurt somebody, or to give them the wrong advice; I want to give the purest of love.

I recently endured a brief emotional breakdown, which had me asking my friends if I’m pushing people away or if I’m wrong about myself. One of my friends offered to call me, but when I picked up and expected a two-way conversation, I ended up talking – she did not. Each time I expected a response, it fell completely silent and it only made me feel like a burden, not like she’s a close friend, whom I’ve listened to in her state of crisis. Out of the few I consider the closest, only one shared their honest personal opinion on the matter, the kind I consider the most valuable. As hurtful as it was to share my pain and barely get any response, it was a very insightful moment, because it made me shift focus from what caused the breakdown in question, to a realization I truly needed: I’m pouring way too much nonreciprocal energy in other people. I need to stop doing for others what they wouldn’t do for me. I realized that in a moment of crisis I can’t trust anyone. That made me think of the countless moments where I’ve listened and asked questions, but was never asked at least if I was well.

It’s not like I’ve never experienced that before, but it’s rather the first time I took it seriously. Last year, another friend of mine called me in panic – she had hit her car and didn’t know what to do. I dropped my plans to attend lectures, got in my car, took her to the insurance company’s office, helped her fill out the forms, left her car for damage assession, then took her to get some ice-cream so she could calm down. I remember thinking that nobody would do that for me, not even my own mother. Not to speak of my sister, who has flat out refused to help me because she’s not like that (in her own words).

My moments of crisis, the ones that have seen me seeking help, show that I’m completely alone. It doesn’t matter how much help I am to others, how much love and respect I show them, they’re never available for me when I need them. What’s more, whenever I need understanding, I’m asking for too much. I know that not everyone has gone through the same events in life, we don’t all share the same trauma; not everyone learns from their mistakes like I do. But I’m not perfect, nor the greatest. I feel like I’m delusional for expecting from my friends and family what they would expect from me and then feel like I’m in the wrong for sharing my voice that it’s unfair to give and never receive. It’s not like that, they always say.

The solution is not to give them the taste of their own medicine and I’m not going to demand attention without providing it. I’m going to do what I do best: make my absence noticeable and I’m going to gradually minimize my help. After all, I’m not a professional therapist, why should I substitute? My solitude only makes me stronger.