I'm a bleeding heart in a lot of ways. I have deep concern for my fellow man and even more for those I call friend. I want all the best for them. I find at times that I want more for them than they do. In some instances I have gone through great lengths to help them gain their hopes and dreams (or in most cases their stated hopes and dreams). Sadly, this has back fired a number of times.
In one case I have done considerable research, written cover letters and resumes, and done even more. Yet, as I shared the plan of action for helping them get their dream job I was met with opposition. My friend acknowledged that he is consumed by his dream, yet he informed me he did not have the motivation to do anything about it. I was pissed. I was crushed. I was MAD! Why don't people want their dreams enough to work hard, damn hard, for it?
I have another friend that suffers from depression and any number of other non-disclosed ailments. I want her to break free from the chains of depression and "whoa is me" living. I've tried to be a supportive listening ear/heart dropping my recommendation with tact and comedy relief. I find that years later my listening supportive, suggestive ways were having no effect. In fact, she was worse off than she was before. To offer a clear picture of this sickness I must tell you this brief story:
I'm sitting in my office when I receive a phone call from my friend complaining that McDonald's forgot her dipping sauces for her chicken nuggets. I said that's why I always check the bag before I leave the drive through. At that time, she said she did check the bag. She just pulled off because she didn't want to bother anyone. Yet, she found it perfectly fine to bother me with the complaint that she had no sauce when she was well within her means to handle it.
That is the madness I'm dealing with. A person that would prefer to complain rather than address the issue. There are many, many, many, more examples. I won't "bother" you with all that. I'll simply say that I made my concerns plain and known. I told this friend that I had to limit my contact because they were exhausting me with the pity parties, complaints, refusal to follow any treatment plan, and the satisfaction of remaining in a completely treatable stupor of depression. I begged them to do all they could to get better. They read my plea as a sort of friend style dear john letter. Much like Darth Vader, she has been consumed by her illness. Sad, just sad.
In one instance I have frustrated my friend by doing what I could to help them leave a job they hate and live their dream. In another case, I seem to have lost a friend to their mental illness. Covered in a shrowed of darkness, my words of concern and admonition to get better were filtered out leaving only a distorted sound that said I don't want to be your friend. Both of these instances hurt me. It's not about me. It's about the fact that I want my friends to be at peace and enjoy life. I could care less if I get credit or if my ideas work. I just know that their rejection of any plan is not resulting in peace, but in more of the same-a life of painful frustration and complaining. Who knew that caring could cause issues?
Perhaps they don't need the suggestions, just the listening ear, empathy, and understanding. People have to go through their own things in their own time...recovery comes with many mistakes before sucess can be achieved.
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