Secondary Traumatic Stress, When do we quit helping others in need, Four rigs with cocaine residue

This week I have been in several situations where I have been mindful of an underlying conflict, a question, a debate. I have visited someone in jail, participated in a group debate, and helped someone begin to understand. All three situations were very different but contained a question, a desire, resistance, hope, confusion. All three shared a common thought, emotion, and question; when do we quit helping someone in need? What if we encounter someone who has been given every opportunity to make adjustments to their lives, to themselves and they continue to make decisions and behave in a way that is counter to the desired positive outcome? Do we stop helping, do we give up, do we turn away, and do we no longer help? What if the person is incapable of doing what is necessary? What if the person is incapable of seeing? What if they are unable to see themselves in their lives? What if they can’t bear to look at their lives and themselves? What if the guilt and shame are unbearable? Do we give up?

 I have previously written about pain, suffering, compassion and empathy and I don’t want to restate something that I have already touched on in previous post. I want to talk about Secondary Traumatic Stress or “the cost of caring”. I believe the current that runs through all of these questions is a person’s threshold for compassion and empathy. Expressing these can try on a person; they can become a weight on your shoulders, on your mind, your spirit, and your heart. When we experience someone else’s pain we can reach our “limit” and look for an option to break ties. We want that break up to be the other’s fault. We are done, and we shut the door. We want to bury the situation, the person, in a grave of blame filled with shame, disgust, and anger. We are suffering from compassion fatigue. We have reached our limit with the person. This is the easy way out…detachment.

How do we prevent this? Through self-care. We need to relieve our stress; we need to share with others the burden we experience. We need to laugh. We need to feel safe, understood, we need “cosigners”. We need to separate ourselves at times to let go of the attachment, the emotions. We need others to help us. We need to self-reflect. We need to be mindful. We need to seek positive healthy ways to alleviate our stress, our pain.

We need to be reminded that we should not give up on anyone. 

B   

ISO continued

So after I wrote last week I really tried to focus, meditate, and pray about what I was in search of. I spent 2 days traveling and speaking to around 200 men and boys in prison. I asked them the same type of questions. Questions about dreams, desires, what they wanted for their lives, their families. During one of my groups someone asked me “what if I don’t want something different?”. Inadvertently he flooded my mind and spirit. He asked because he was being difficult with me, but his question reminded me of what I was doing, what I was searching for. I returned to my hotel that afternoon and considered myself, my life. What if you are not in search of anything? Is that okay? I attempt to subscribe to the philosophy of “not having everything I want, but wanting everything I have”. How does someone self motivate when they are in search of nothing? How do you have goals, dreams, desires and how do those things motivate you? On Thursday I was back in the field, on the street, talking to people, helping people, being supportive. I felt exhilarated to be doing the work I do and feeling blessed that I get to help people for a living. As I drove through the poorest parts of the towns I work in, I really tried to focus on the moment. Taking in my surroundings. Acknowledging the men drinking on the corners. Watching for children riding their bikes in the street. I wondered if they searched for something and I felt at ease thinking maybe they didn't. I felt at peace. I felt fulfilled. That evening I was on the soccer field in my community, watching kids play soccer. A young man from my community came over and we talked about his struggles as a junior in high school and raising an 18 month old son by himself while working a part time job. I gave him some advice that he seemed to be seeking and I felt blessed that he sought my advice. I woke up the next morning and asked myself “am I doing enough to help others?” And I began to assess my role in life, my purpose. 

Am I doing everything I can to help, to give back?   

B

ISO

A dream, a desire, a wish? An end? A beginning? A journey, a Destination? Something instant? Quick? Slow? Somewhere, Somehow, Something, somebody? Resolve, disruption? Peace, Chaos? Strength, Compassion, Understanding? Power? Validation?   Happiness, Tears, Love, Intimacy, to be touched, held, Loved? To Give, Take?  To be heard? To be respected? To be revered? To be seen, heard? To be left alone? Serenity? Patience? Strength? Relief? Everything, something, nothing?

What do you search for?

To be continued...

B 

No instructions?

In 1998 I decided to make a decision that I would do one of the scariest hardest things in my life. I have experienced many scary things and I have worked through many hard things in my life. But the decision I would ponder and eventually make was one of the hardest. I wanted to become a parent. But I wasn't for sure what that meant or if I was capable. I felt very unsure of myself, I felt scared, I felt inferior. I knew that I had gotten to place with myself that I was confident I knew how to take care of myself. This maybe was a prerequisite; how could I care for a child when I wasn't caring for myself. In my relationship with my wife I had been experiencing love, empathy, compassion, care and I began to learn how to give those things back. I knew that there were plenty of examples of parenting out there that I was not interested in. I watched other parents, the way they interacted with their children, the way the talked to them, the way they touched them or didn't. I had an idea of the parent I wanted to be, but was I capable. In 1999 we had our first child and my world changed. I loved her unconditionally. I held her, I played with her, I talked with her, I held her, I cared for her. I experienced emotions that were so foreign to me. I at times was so confused, so vulnerable. At times I had no idea what I was doing or if was even close to being right or wrong, or if that even mattered.
14 years and 3 more children later, I still am not sure what I’m doing. I am by no means a great parent. I miss things that my children do or tell me. Sometimes I don’t notice their cues that they need something from me. Sometimes I make mistakes. I think I have good kids and I hope that reflects on me as a parent. I know that my children, wife, and my decision to become a parent has helped me become a better person even though sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing.
B

When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.-Henri Nouwen

This week I have been reflecting on my understanding of pain. I encounter many people who are experiencing, dealing with, and healing from different forms of pain. I have always thought I could see peoples’ pains through their eyes, and I believed that this is how I am able to share compassion and empathy with others. 

A unified experience of pain. 

This week I spent some time with someone experiencing an amount of pain that he has chosen to alter the course of his life and as we talked I could see the pain in his eyes.   And I acknowledged his pain, I empathized with his pain. It was pain that I can relate to. I told him I cared about his well-being and replied, “I know you do, I can see it in your eyes.” The hard part about pain is that we sometimes think we know how another experiences pain. We imprint our on pain experiences on the person and sometimes believe that what they are experiencing is maybe not the big deal they think it is. We discredit, minimize, and undervalue what the other person is experiencing. Why? I think for many it easier; to not share in another human being’s pain. And maybe this is okay for many. Maybe everyone is incapable of compassion and empathy. At times I am exhausted by practicing my own empathy and compassion. But the more I use these, the more I am able to use these. For a long time I did not want to live my life like this; I didn't want to hear or experience other people’s pain. I had my own to deal with. I had to learn to understand my own pain before I was ready to show empathy to others. I still experience pain; I still have hurt feelings, anger, stress, rejection, poor self-esteem and self-worth. But I am able to  better understand these things and take care of myself.  Please don’t assume you understand another person’s pain…I don't

B

Hope...

This morning I have been contemplating HOPE and what it means, where it comes from and my relationship with it. Much has been written, studied, discussed about hope. All the great “smart” and “important” people in history have had an opinion about it, both good and bad. But what is it? Where is it? Where does it go? And how do you have a relationship with it? When I think of hope I instantly think of desire and then dream. But are these the same and how are they related? And how does wants and needs effect hope? I started this line of thought thinking I would find an easy answer and yet I continue to discover more questions. What is it that people hope for? Is this what people pray for? How are small hopes different from large hopes? Has hope become undervalued because of our quickness to use it? Can Hope be taught? Is hope only inspired? Are their people who do not hope?

1: the feeling of wanting something to happen and thinking that it could happen: a feeling that something good will happen or be true,
2: the chance that something good will happen
3: someone or something that may be able to provide help: someone or something that gives you a reason for hoping
These are the three general definitions found online. It seems so simple when I read the definitions...

The nature of the work I do has me involved in the third definition on a daily basis. I want to inspire others to have hope. Hope for a different kind of life. A hope that motivated me into recovery. A hope that I think most who suffer from any kind of illness hope for. Anyone who is sick will normally tell you that their hope is to get better. But what if they can’t get better? How does hope change? What if you are told you are going to die? How would your hopes change? What if you were condemned to prison or an institution for the rest of your life? How would you have hope? Is it possible to inspire hope when someone has given up hope?
I don’t know the answers to all these questions but I am certain I will continue to assess my personal hopes and my relationship with hope…and I hope you do to!

B

I want to be loved...

“He allowed himself to be swayed by his conviction that human beings are not born once and for all on the day their mothers give birth to them, but that life obliges them over and over again to give birth to themselves.” ― Gabriel Garcí­a Márquez, Love in the Time of Cholera

I want to be loved. I want to be cared for. I want to be liked, respected. I want to matter. I want others to think I’m okay. Often times I think about my funeral. I imagine what people may say about me in my passing. I think about the ending of the story of my life and does it end well or in tragedy. I am not perfect, nor will I ever be. Probably better to not be perfect as I need a reminder where I need to grow as a person.  I want to be okay with me. I want to look in the mirror and know and be comfortable with the person I see. I want to smile more, laugh more. I want to let down my guard more. I want to feel safe more. I want to be less scared; scared of myself and the world.
For those who take a minute out of your days to read this please know it means the world to me. I find it strange that anyone cares what comes out of my mouth.

I’m glad you’re listening…makes me feel like it matters and that you care.
B