Duty

I’m about to say something that will not be popular opinion: It is not your duty to be there for someone with a mental illness or a chemical dependency.

Please, hear me out. This post has been a long time coming.

If a person needs someone to support them through the process of getting help, then yes, be there for them. Help them. But if a person doesn’t believe there is a problem, if a person does not want help, there is no amount of support that will help them. The saying, “there person has to want to help themselves,” is beyond true.

My whole life, I have thought I can fix these people. Fix the ones that need it, even if they didn’t know they needed it. I actually thought that because of my childhood, I was trained and it was my responsibility to be there for adults that can’t help themselves. Like it was my duty. It took me a long time and many mistakes to realize that is not. 

Let me tell you the story that gave me an epiphany. I will leave out names, though some may speculate who it is, I will never confirm. This is also my me too moment.

I was in a relationship as an adult with someone that couldn’t see they needed help, who didn’t want help and I believe will never get help. I still felt it my duty to be there. I stayed with them for almost a year and half. Despite them being emotional abusive when drunk (which was almost all the time towards the end), I stayed. Because I thought it was my duty. Because I let “they were drunk, its not what they really meant” become an excuse. When they finally dumped me, I was relieved. I was relieved because I don’t know if I would have ever pulled the plug on it because I was too scared of what they would do to themselves. But even after it ended, I stayed supportive for a long time, through a very bad relationship they had after, through many suicide threats, because I thought it was my duty. 

Then one night, they asked me for a ride to get their stuff from the ex that had ghosted them. I agreed. When they got it and we got back to their place, they asked me through tears to come inside, so I did. I watched them get more and more drunk. I watched them beat themselves (literally). I listened to their threats of suicide. And then, I listened as they begged to do sexual things to me. And then they tried. I said no. They cried and threatened suicide and beat themselves. And then they tried again. I said no. They cried and threatened suicide and beat themselves. This happened 3 more times. Touching me and kissing my neck, when I said no. Five times I said no. They blamed me. ‘Why, because you’ll hate yourself in the morning?” But I said no. And I kept saying no. And then they passed out, and I left. I drove a block away, parked and called my friend and sobbed. I do believe that if they weren’t so intoxicated, things would have ended differently. Nothing physically happened, because I pushed them off, but I said no. 

After that, I never spent time with them again. But I still got their phone calls, I still got their drunken text, I still let them talk to me and I still listened. Because I felt it was my duty. 

I finally got the nerve to block them from contacting me, at the encouragement of 2 amazing friends. But I still had to see them many days a week, so it still was haunting me. But I still excused the behavior with “because they were drunk”, “because they were suicidal.” Because it was my duty. 

And then something else happened. Not to me, to someone else I knew. And I learned about all the bad they had done and said and threatened to do to other women. Young women. Women they were in charge of. And something in me broke. I finally knew, it was NOT my duty. 

My duty changed. It was not my duty to be there for them. It was not my duty to be there for someone that doesn’t think they have a problem. It was not my duty to listen to their suicide threats. It was not my duty. And if they never get help, if they follow through on threats, it will not be my fault, because it is NOT my duty. What my duty is now, and will always be, is standing up for women. It is my duty to stand up for myself, but even when I struggle doing that, it will always be my duty to stand up for women. Always. 

I left the place I would see them all the time, with no notice. Because protecting myself is my duty. I left the place, because it is my duty to stand up for all the other women they have done this to and will continue to do this to. Because protecting women is my duty. I told people about what happened that I thought I could never tell, and I was heard and I was believed, even by those on their side. They believed me. This gave me power to make standing up my duty.

So, this is my me too. This is my why. This is why it is important for you, and for everyone to know, it is not your duty to be there for someone with a mental illness or a chemical dependency. It is the duty for public service officers, for mental health workers, for chemical dependency workers. But even then, there is only so much they can do if a person doesn’t believe they have a problem, if they don’t want to be helped. There is only so much they can do. And even they will tell you that (and I’ve had more than one therapist tell me) that we can’t help people that don’t want to be helped. 

This post was inspired by the death of rapper Mac Miller. I didn’t know who he was until his death due to drug overdose. He dated singer Arianna Grande for 2 years. And now, in the wake of his death, so many people are blaming her. Because she left him. Because she wasn’t there for him. Because she realized it was not her duty to be there for him. Because she realized it was her duty to be there for herself. 

At the end of the day, be supportive, give encouragement, provide resources, that is your only duty. And if they won’t take it, if they don’t think they need it, your duty is done. It is not your duty to be there for them. It is your duty to be there for yourself, first and foremost, always.