*
Trying to be the caretaker who sees to another person’s every need is
as problematic as avoiding your responsibility to yourself. is is
something that has been an issue for me—as it is for many
psychotherapists. I had an epiphany about this when I was working
with a single mother of ĕve who was unemployed and physically
challenged in addition to being depressed. She had a hard time leaving
the house. I was happy to step in to pick up her welfare checks and get
her children to their appointments and activities. As her therapist, I
felt it was my responsibility to help her in any way possible. But one
day as I stood in line at the welfare office, feeling benevolent and
generous and worthy, a voice inside me said, “Edie, whose needs are
being met?” I realized the answer wasn’t “my dear patient’s.” e
answer was “mine.” In doing things for her, I felt very good about
myself. But at what cost? I was fueling her dependence—and her
hunger. She had already been depriving herself for a long time of
something she could ĕnd only within, and while I thought I was
sustaining her health and well-being, I was actually sustaining her
deprivation. It’s okay to help people—and it’s okay to need help—but
when your enabling allows others not to help themselves, then you’re
crippling the people you want to help.
I used to ask my patients, “How can I help you?” But that kind of
question makes them Humpty Dumpty, waiting around on the
pavement to be put back together again. And it makes me the king’s
horses and the king’s men, ultimately powerless to ĕx another person.
I’ve changed my question. Now I say, “How can I be useful to you?”
How can I support you as you take responsibility for yourself?
* * *I’ve never met a person who would consciously choose to live in