There might have been a time when you helped a dear friend get a job, helped pay the hospital bills because they couldn’t afford to, tried to save a crumbling relationship only to realise you accidentally signed up for a lifetime of responsibility; and now every action, every reaction, and every consequence is yours to bear.
Walk away, the pain is not yours to carry.
Certain individuals never learn to take responsibility for their actions, there’s always some one to blame, there’s always the consequences, there’s always the fault of another, there’s always how you could’ve done better or how you could’ve done more, or how it wasn’t enough.
Of how the doctor you paid for could’ve been better, of how the job you offered was too difficult, of how the relationship you helped save is now yours to counsel through to eternity, that their every problem is now yours too because you attempted to help once and as such you’re expected to always do so hence forth.
Because no matter how much better the doctor gets.
Because no matter how easier the job offer gets.
Because no matter how much you tried to help counsel, their relationship will crumble anyways.
The mental strain is just not worth it; it never is.
The emotional blackmail of feeling responsible for kindness and generosity is not your fault; it’s the failure of others to accept things for what they are — their own failures.
Cut it loose, make it fast, without remorse, learn to walk away.
People will always attempt to emotionally make you feel responsible for their choices and failures.
Of how a friend you helped enter rehab because their alcoholism was too much pain for you to bear, only to later be blamed that you simply just didn’t do enough for them — of how their relapse is on “you”.
Of how no matter how many times you stuck by your partner’s side, every time they promised “they’ll change” and deserved forgiveness for how this is the “last time” they’ll cheat on you — it won’t change; only later in life do you realise it’s an abusive loop you could’ve walked out of much earlier, but chose not to.
We’re not emotionally liable for our kindness and generosity.
It’s not a lifetime guaranteed supply.
You didn’t sign up for it when you chose to help that one time because you could.
You didn’t sign up to carry everybody else just because “you” made it, through sheer hard-work and dedication; and little bit of luck.
Because everybody is looking to you, because you seem to have it all together, because they wish they could have it too, and you’re too generous you’ll say “Sure, I’ll help. But only this one time”, only to realise that the “one time” was a few dozen times ago.
That friend or relative you let sleep on the couch because they “needed it for the week”, except now weeks are turning into months and your house needs cleaning, the increase in the electricity bill won’t be paying itself, the food is costing too much, and no matter how many job opportunities you present they’re just not good enough or don’t seem to work out; it’s time and you’ve heard all the excuses one too many times before to know it won’t and doesn’t change.
It’s an abusive pattern, one we need to take responsibility for and say “You need to get your shit together. I can no longer carry you”.
People take advantage of kindness.
People assume generosity for a guarantee.
Don’t let it be exploited.
You didn’t sign up to be a saviour.
Learn to walk away.
That house you bought for your loved ones because you could, and it made you feel great to give a little back.
Except that house needs to be refurnished and the walls are starting to chip away, suddenly the rooms feel smaller and the design feels a lot older.
The house just isn’t any good anymore, they need a new one.
It’s not on you. Let it burn to the ground, walk away.
It was a one time offer not a lifetime housing insurance.
That child you had but didn’t plan for, and now you have to take care it because you forgot to put on protection.
Well, guess what?
That one is on you, Sorry.
Yeah no, Go deal with that.
You fucked that one up.
Can’t walk away from that, mate. Sorry.
I’ve done all I can here.
I’m walking away.
Where’s the exit?