Drained

I want to help others - but I get drained when I do. I don't know yet how to not let their pain penetrate me. I take it all on my shoulders, and when they feel relieved, I buckle onto my knees and fall, heavy with their emotions. I don't know how to not let them touch me, how to let it go through me, not into me. I feel as though all life energy leaves me and I'm drained, empty, with no will to move forward, pinned down by the hopes and fears and dramas of those who spilled to me. I know there is a way to do it, but I'm not strong enough yet - though I do want to help, badly, and I stick my neck out there each time, despite the fact that I know I will be swimming in their tears as if they were my own.

How to replenish? How to get back to my own happiness? How to avoid falling into this trap each time - how to wipe it off my forehead - "Hey, you can open up to me and offload all your junk, and guess what - I won't even blink and will take it all in and will even thank you afterwards!". How to set healthy boundaries around how much I can take in, and when to draw the line, when to stop and say "No, I can't take anymore, I can't help you beyond this point, you will need to learn how to help yourself." I guess I will have to try it as I go - one step at a time, one person at a time, one sentence at a time. To learn to soak in only a drop at a time, to let it air in between, to learn to store up on my energy before attempting another session, to shield myself from obvious poison - to not be afraid to step aside and let somebody else fall, knowing that they will learn on the impact - and I will delay their understanding if I catch them on the way. Learning the limit of my own strength, judging correct muscle strength, only stepping out of my way if I know I will have enough time to fully recover. Right now I don't. Right now I throw myself on the ground every time somebody needs a carpet, I fill in every hole in the wall every time somebody is about to lean on it, I make myself into a door knob every time somebody needs to open the door. Hell, I'll twist myself into a key if somebody forgot theirs - anything to help, anything to be needed, any possible way to service others.

You need food - I will give you the last of what I have. You need money - I will empty my account. You need sleep - I will keep watch over you to adjust your pillow and covers. You need company - I will drop everything and be there for you. You need love - I will empty my heart and will think it's still not enough. You need to be alone - I will disappear, no matter how painful it will be for me to tear myself away from you, and will suffer in silence until you need me again - to make you feel better. You need a friend - I will always be there for you, and if I ever forget, I will never forgive myself and will get out of my way to compensate. You need me - I will give you myself fully. You will ask me what I want - and I will be stumped. I don't know. That thought never crosses my mind. I will have a hard time coming up with a satisfactory answer - and in the fear of offending you, of making you wait, will comb my memory for your preferences from the past, and make sure your want sounds like mine - when I finally say it. 

I get drained easily. I wish I could sit on a well, always full, always ready to give, never running out of water, never being afraid to not be enough, never doubting my ability to help, at any time, help anybody in need. I don't know where that well exists - or, wait, maybe I do. I think I do. I think it is called love. I think it powers everything and everyone. I think I have enough of it to give. I think I feel it welling up in me again - it is spilling again, I want to share it with the world. I'm on my way to giving again - being drained now forgotten - I'm full, I'm ready to be emptied again. Then the cycle will begin again. But it's the cycle of life. Which means that I am - alive.

Photo by Mike Bailey-Gates.