I am not used to having friends. Genuinely caring about people and having them genuinely care about me is a relatively new concept and I am still trying to learn how to properly respond to situations.
Having friends is wonderful. I spend time with a group of people whose wellbeing matters to me and mine matters to them. They accept me for being unabashedly myself. I couldn’t be happier about that. But it also opens the door for a lot more worries that I didn’t have when I was a loner.
Worrying about loved ones is an inevitability for me. As a chronic worrier (and diagnosed anxiety patient), I can’t stop myself from doing my best to ensure that the people I care about are doing well. As noble as that sentiment may sound, it has ended up causing me far more harm than one may initially think.
When a friend tells me about an issue in their life with mental health, classes or anything else, my first instinct is to look for a solution. Logically, that seems like the right thing for me to do. I’ve come to realize, however, that regardless of how well-intentioned this impulse is, it actually has ended up doing more harm than good both for myself and for the people I aim to help.
For one thing, the emotional toll of trying to carry the burdens of everyone else are apparent. Everybody has their own complex life with their own set of problems to handle. As much as I don’t like to admit it, that includes me. In the past I have tried to ignore this fact, making it my responsibility to deal with the problems of others and ignore my own.
Self-care is not selfish. It’s important to care about others, but your own needs should come first. Not your wants, your needs. If you only care about what you want and don’t give any consideration to the desires of anyone around you, you’re a rude self-absorbed person. If you prioritize your own mental and physical wellbeing, however, you are practicing a rational healthy level of self-care. There is a world of difference. I just wish I had learned that sooner.
Something that is even harder for me to accept is that I am not a therapist. And odds are you aren’t either. I can listen to people’s problems, I can offer some advice, but I can not solve every problem for everybody. Not only am I not required to, I’m not able to! Realistically speaking, I have no reason to believe my advice would be applicable to other people, let alone actively helpful.
Mental wellbeing is a complex issue that is different for every single human being on the planet. You can know what works for you and maybe guess what works for others, but the only people who can really offer productive assistance are licensed professionals. I am not one. I should stop trying to be one.
Caring about people is hard. Worrying about your own mental wellbeing is hard enough and it only gets more difficult when you bring other people into the mix. I will never stop caring or worrying about my loved ones. But I can’t keep trying to solve their problems. I can’t do that. And that’s okay.
