Hiromi_X

As someone who needed a lot of help a decade ago and wasn't at that time and in the middle-term thereafter in a position to give anything back, I know that the universe doesn't work in a tit-for-tat manner: one day, you might find yourself in a situation where you can give back; probably in a way you cannot envisage right now.

I don't think self-preservation is selfish, rather wisdom born of experience.

I'm not in AA, but in the sexual assault support group I've gone to, I also have fears about the neediness of others in the group who are newly dealing with their stuff. Part of that fear stems, I think, from recognizing people at those early stages (including myself, when I was there) have major boundary issues (as in, they're usually boundary pushers and allow and even invite others to push theirs so they can get upset about it). And I am only JUST learning how to respect, create, and articulate my own boundaries, and those of others. Healthy people tend to understand you setting a boundary more than unhealthy people. Trying to manage that inability to understand that in someone else who has such an extreme inability to deal with it can be difficult.

Though I've come a long way, I still feel pretty wet behind the ears with all this "taking care of me" stuff. I need to live with it on my own for a while. So for now I feel that providing LOTS of intense, one-on-one nurturing of another survivor at the early stages of their recovery is too much for me to take on. But honestly, I don't even feel that's all that necessary, to be the nurturer-hero, at any point. Here's why:

I know you had a very distinct experience of being individually, personally helped and guided in the early stages--including help and encouragement getting into recovery. My story is very different, I didn't have any of that. Before I took the first step to find support (getting into therapy) I didn't have one survivor to talk to, or anyone who, when my life was imploding, even expressed concern, let alone helped me identify what my real issues were or suggested I go get help of any particular kind. And I didn't have anyone who gave me any sense of what they did to get help themselves that I could model after. I didn't know what I was doing, or what was going on with me. And yet, I got myself to some help when it got to be too much.

And that was only a therapist. When I joined a survivor's support group, I did not feel very connected to the women. I felt alone there; I thought all of them liked each other much more than they liked me. BUT, even though I felt no mutual friendship and felt pretty alone there, there was one woman in the group who had experienced some pretty extreme sexual assault situations and who had been through much more therapy than I had for it. Listening to her and seeing her as an example of someone who could, openly and without shame, speak about her situation, her resulting anger, and the unhealthy behaviors that she engaged in as a result of it was a huge help and relief to me, though I'm sure she never knew that at the time. But she helped me feel that if she could do it and get to where she was, so could I. So even though we never became friends in that group, I was helped.

And interestingly, on the last day of that group we all went out for coffee and another woman who had barely spoken the entire time told me that she was glad *I'd* been in the group because I'd said everything she wasn unable to say, so she was able to listen to issues discussed she needed to hear through me.

So I think maybe that's the only kind of support that's really necessary. Just being there and showing others that wherever they are now, there IS a further along the road they can get to, because you have.

A friend of mine goes to NA and she has similar sentiments about it. I asked her why she's was resistant to a program that was suppose to help, and she told me that the meetings stressed her out so much that she wanted to turn to her coping mechanisms (drugs, alcohol, and junk food). I know she doesn't want to give anything back, she wants to stay as far away from drug addicts as possible.

I'm not sure if this comment really had a point.

Well, also addicts are a notoriously difficult population to work with anyway. From what I've heard, the toughest population to work with is anorexics followed by addicts and alcoholics. Certainly AA has a pretty low success rate. I suspect that for some alcoholics the harm reduction model simply works better. But, also I'd say that if AA is working for you, that's really the important thing.

Miss Syl has it right:

Just being there and showing others that wherever they are now, there IS a further along the road they can get to, because you have.

I think sometimes helping people is more passive then you'd think. To borrow a page from religion (the Protestant type), the best way to impact others is to just live your life as a testimony, not pound them over the head with your beliefs.

Too bad more people don't follow that, but that's a tangent for another day.

Quick (motorcycle!) story:

I used to ride with a group of Harley guys who didn't wear helmets. One of the guys had a 8-year-old who got to ride on the back of Daddy's bike, as long as she wore her helmet (no, I didn't understand the logic either). I, on the other hand, never get on the bike without one. Anyway, the kid thought it was cool, and was often seen around the airport wearing the helmet even when the bike was parked.

So one evening a bunch of us are hanging out, and one of the adults is picking on the kid about the helmet, telling her how uncool it was to wear one. She looked him square in the eye and said, "It's not uncool! Tina wears a helmet, and she's cool!".

And it made me stop in my tracks. Maybe someday, when her boyfriend tries to get her on the back of his bike without a helmet, she'll make a better decision because I made a better decision. It didn't cost me any effort, and it was never my goal, but maybe it made a tiny bit of difference in the world.

There are people called to make big, sweeping differences in the lives of those around them. But we can't all be Mother Theresa, and I'd argue that we shouldn't be. We should just live our lives as best we can, and the tiny little differences will add up.

I suspect that the friend that you dropped like a hot potato had other friends who were more equipped to help her through her rough spot. Just like, I imagine, some of your friends dropped you when your life started getting to tough for them to handle.

It all comes around, and we just have to do what we can when we're able.