“The only people with whom you should try to get even are those who have helped you.” ~ John E. Southard
One of the lessons I’ve had to learn over the past four years has been allowing others to help me. Actually, the first part of the lesson was learning to ask for help from others and then accepting the help that others could give. It seems silly, but it was painful to the point of becoming physically and emotionally ill before I could actually do it.
What’s my problem? Oh, let me count the ways!
One, I am the oldest child (in our home) of an alcoholic. In our family dynamic I took on the role of the savior. It was “my job” to care for my two little sisters while our parents fought over my dad’s drinking. It was “my job” to keep an eye on the fighting to be sure that no one got hurt. It was “my job” to protect my mom. It was “my job” to be sure everyone was doing what needed to be done so that there would be no more fighting or yelling than was already going on. (*Note- “my job” is how I saw things then… no one told me it was my job… but no one told me it wasn’t my job either.*)
Second, I am a preacher. I’m “supposed” to have all the answers and have it all together and not fall apart. I’m “supposed” to give people guidance, not seek it for myself. I’m “supposed” to counsel others, and give them answers and bless them. I even felt like I am”supposed” to defend God by never letting others see me in need, showing them that God had provided everything and I had no needs at all.
Third, I am a people-pleaser. I want people to like me and admire me and love me and think highly of me. I want to make people happy and make them laugh. I want people to want me. *I suddenly have Cheap Trick playing in my head*
Then my whole world fell apart.
*To be continued*