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Stingy

My aspiration for 2021

By Kirby Porterfield Published 5 years ago 3 min read

In 2021, I will be a stingy therapist friend.

I know, I know, it sounds horrible. 2020 was the worst year in recent history. I mean, for all. On all levels, personal, large scale, all of it. It felt very biblical. As if God’s wrath - if you believe in that sort of thing- was specifically vengeful toward everyone. How special. Throughout everything, my most profound revelation was that everyone needed more than what any one could give. The most beautiful trait of humanity is that when tragedy strikes, people truly want to help one another. And that is the exact thing none of us were allowed to do. Coming together was illegal. So why now, of all times, do I pledge to be emotionally miserly?

My most eye opening realization of 2020 was how emotionally exhausted those “therapist friends” were. You know the type, the mom friend, the one who will pick up the phone at 3 AM, the one who has the most childhood trauma but laughs it off. The one who has spent the most money on copays. We were the last ones anyone thought would break. The marines of mental stability, if you will. After all, this is what we have been training for. A global pandemic and all the mental turmoil should be our Super Bowl, our Olympics even! But, alas. There are so many of these brave souls and we are depleted. Like the rest of the world, we are tired but it’s not about the obnoxious game of misery comparison. And because of this, was have become horrible therapist friends. We can’t do our “job” anymore. The very celebration, or even acknowledgement, that was the life blood of our craft is scarce if not nonexistent now. The advice we so fervently administer cannot be employed by our loved ones. Thus, nothing can get “done”. From there this vicious cycle completes the depletion process and we render ourselves, quite literally, useless in our eyes. We become sad, silly shells of ourselves. The collective, proverbial cup becomes empty. I think this happened around October 15th for those therapist friends.

So! My plan is to be stingy as the therapist friend. Hibernate a little bit. Instead of being a bear in the winter saving food stores, I will be a 20 something living through a deadly pandemic saving mental calories. This may seem like a selfish thing to do given the circumstances. But if you are not a little emotionally selfish, you will just continue in the aforementioned spin cycle of trying to help, having no substantial advice, making your “client” feel unseen, making yourself feel unworthy and then again craving the ability to help someone. That’s why I want to be stingy. So I can get back to “training, so I can focus on this cycle that gets me no where, and has never really gotten me anywhere before. To be honest, being the therapist friend is a dubious honor. It puts all the onus on oneself to have already fixed yourself. Saving a little time and space for you, creates time and space for your loved ones. Being stingy will help everyone wait this out, because, let’s face it, we couldn’t help in this situation anyway. Pandemics are too big for even the best of us. Not even Oprah, or that one guy who left his toxic church community at 19 and now helps homeless LGBTQ youth could save us. And if nothing else, being stingy will help us stall until we can go back to normal problems.

Being stingy is self care. Being stingy is necessary. Being stingy will save our souls.

self care

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