After Charles died, helplessness and I had a come-to-Jesus moment. I couldn’t make it budge, reverse engineer it, or even make it change its mind.
It stood stubbornly in its place reminding me that I couldn’t change the outcome. That I was a victim to the emotion to which I was now facing. I didn’t want to do grief. I wanted to back out of it. But it swept me away anyway. I had no choice.
Helplessness and I first met when a loved one started using drugs and alcohol as a teen. I couldn’t stop it, change the course, and ultimately this person became addicted. He lost everything before he decided to get help. And when he did that, it didn’t go as planned.
How many times have I allowed my emotions to surf on someone else’s chaos?
Those of you caring for the child of your child because they can’t be a parent know exactly what I mean. As do those who love someone who doesn’t take their meds, who can’t pay their bills because of a gambling problem, or the one who relapses right after rehab and ends up dying. That’s when helplessness screams in your face and you have to adjust and adapt your own life because if someone else’s actions.
So yeah, helplessness and I know each other well. I don’t always love it but I have learned to accept it.