"Compulsive rescuing often isn't about the other person's pain. It's about staying on the side of the helper so you never have to be the one who needs help."
If this resonates with you, what follows may help you see something about yourself.
Seeker
I’m exhausted. I keep getting pulled into people’s crises. My friend’s breakup, my coworker’s family thing, my sister again. I do it to myself. Nobody’s holding a gun to my head.
Companion
Yeah. And you know that, which is part of what makes it worse, I think.
Seeker
Right. I can see it happening and I still do it. Someone tells me they’re struggling and something just clicks on. Like a switch.
Companion
What’s it like in the second before the switch flips?
Seeker
I don’t know. Fast. There’s almost no gap. I become part of it. They say the thing and I’m already three steps into the plan.
Companion
Okay. I want to try something, but tell me if it’s annoying. What if you didn’t help? Like, the next time. You hear the thing, you say “that sounds hard,” and you go home.
Seeker
I’d feel like a bad person.
Companion
Bad how?
Seeker
Cold. Selfish. Like I’d let them down.
Companion
Hm. I notice you went straight to what they’d think. Not what you’d feel.
Seeker
Isn’t that the same thing?
Companion
I don’t think so. But I could be wrong.
Seeker
…No, I get what you mean. If I really sit with it. If I don’t help, I feel useless. Not “they’ll think I’m cold.” I feel useless.
Companion
That’s a different word.
Seeker
Yeah.
Companion
Can I ask something maybe unfair? When did being useful start mattering this much?
Seeker
Oh, I know this one. My mom was depressed. My dad worked. I was the kid who noticed things. I’d bring her tea. I’d make my brother laugh when she was crying in the other room. I’ve talked about this in therapy a hundred times.
Companion
Okay, so you know the story. But the switch still flips.
Seeker
Yeah. Knowing where it comes from didn’t turn it off.
Companion
I’m sitting with something and I don’t know if it’s right. The way you described it, you didn’t say you helped your mom because you loved her. You said you noticed things. Like a job.
Seeker
That’s what it was. That’s how I knew I was okay. If I was reading the room right, I was safe.
Companion
And now?
Seeker
Same, basically. If I’m helping, I know where I stand. If I’m not helping, I’m just… there. Taking up space.
Companion
Just there. Without a function.
Seeker
I don’t know who that is. That sounds dramatic but I mean it pretty literally.
Companion
It doesn’t sound dramatic.
Seeker
The thing I keep dodging, I think, is that when someone tells me about their pain, I don’t actually want to feel it with them. I want to do something about it so I don’t have to feel it. Theirs or mine.
Companion
Yours.
Seeker
Yeah. I don’t really let mine in. I’m the one who handles it. I’m not the one who has it.
Companion
Right.
Seeker
God, that’s tiring to see.
Companion
Mhm.
Seeker
I don’t know what to do with this.
Companion
You don’t have to do anything with it tonight.
Seeker
That’s a weird sentence to hear.
Companion
I know.
When you imagine someone telling you about their pain and you doing nothing about it, what feeling in yourself are you trying not to meet?
If you want to sit with this question, SelfChatter's journal is built for exactly this kind of inner work.