Compassion Fatigue
Compassion Fatigue. I did not know there was a name for what I was feeling all along. And the manifestations are all there: mood swings, migraines, weight gain, sadness, sleepless nights. Well I know what you all are thinking. These are the same manifestations of depression, and yes, menopause. But indulge me. I need to put this out there.
I cannot remember when I started to have this notion that I could solve the problems of the world. Thinking of it now, maybe a factor is my family background. I grew up in a family of public servants, paternal and maternal side. So ever since I was a kid, I was surrounded by people who needed help: someone in the family is sick, or someone died, someone needed a job; and our role was to help. The worst I could recall was seeing a mother who had nothing to feed her children except sweet potatoes. I was on a campaign trail when Papa first ran for Mayor in our town that time. Papa was so consumed with pity that gave the mother money. Perhaps that memory left a mark with me so deep that I developed compassion early on.
Then I grew up with people who displayed respect for others' feelings, sensitive to needs of others, compassion for the weak, generosity of heart, and those other traits so open to abuse. Hence, if my Lolo Panieng, Lola Corazon, my uncles and aunts treated others that way, it is safe to state that I, the eldest apo, was spoiled to the max. Well, I still am. Too much that up to now, I am 47, I do not know how to cross the street alone, I get terribly frantic riding a public jeepney, I cannot eat crabs or shrimps without someone helping me get the meat out of them.
So I guess having been spoiled that way, I feel under obligation to be the same to others. When Papa went ahead of us, I took the responsibility for my siblings. I put them through school, I helped them get started with their own lives when they had families of their own, and I still continued to do so even beyond the 'call of duty'. Even at the expense of my own family. I was the same with my friends, my colleagues. I was the 'go-to-girl' of all time. Then one day, I made this one important decision, and decided to love myself. Like a domino, all these people I helped, started to judge me. Well in fairness to some, they tried to understand that decision. And regardless of how unconfortable they are with that decision to be 'self-involved', they stood by me. Whatever the agenda they have, if they stand by me now because they need me, or because they simply love me back, I am thankful.
I am trying to come to terms with 'compassion fatigue' these days. Slowly, I am able to let go of the feelings of insecurity, of the fear that others I helped would shun me and keep me out of the lives, of being alone and 'unloved'. For years, I was terrified of not pleasing everyone. Now, I am surprisingly calm about all the fact that indeed, I cannot solve the problems of the world. I have started to be numb about how others see me, or bluntly put, I just do not seem to care anymore. Reckless, maybe, but I draw strength to navigate this path with reason, from my kids. Oh, Ana is the best daughter. She tells me what she finds 'wrong' without sugarcoating anything. And I listen to her. Aidan is funny, he sort of gives me unsolicited advice in his smart-ass ways.
They say, one cannot serve others from an empty vessel. I have been empty for years. Yet I gave all that I could even from that emptiness. I did my best. I am filled to the brim now, because I took the courage to think of myself first, my family first, others second and only if I can help. It will take a while to get used to it, but I am absolutely sure I will. 'Compassion Fatigue'. Aidan said, "Mom, in other words, 'fed up'". That made me really laugh hard. For the first time in my life, no other than my son put it like it should be. I am fed up.
I cannot remember when I started to have this notion that I could solve the problems of the world. Thinking of it now, maybe a factor is my family background. I grew up in a family of public servants, paternal and maternal side. So ever since I was a kid, I was surrounded by people who needed help: someone in the family is sick, or someone died, someone needed a job; and our role was to help. The worst I could recall was seeing a mother who had nothing to feed her children except sweet potatoes. I was on a campaign trail when Papa first ran for Mayor in our town that time. Papa was so consumed with pity that gave the mother money. Perhaps that memory left a mark with me so deep that I developed compassion early on.
Then I grew up with people who displayed respect for others' feelings, sensitive to needs of others, compassion for the weak, generosity of heart, and those other traits so open to abuse. Hence, if my Lolo Panieng, Lola Corazon, my uncles and aunts treated others that way, it is safe to state that I, the eldest apo, was spoiled to the max. Well, I still am. Too much that up to now, I am 47, I do not know how to cross the street alone, I get terribly frantic riding a public jeepney, I cannot eat crabs or shrimps without someone helping me get the meat out of them.
So I guess having been spoiled that way, I feel under obligation to be the same to others. When Papa went ahead of us, I took the responsibility for my siblings. I put them through school, I helped them get started with their own lives when they had families of their own, and I still continued to do so even beyond the 'call of duty'. Even at the expense of my own family. I was the same with my friends, my colleagues. I was the 'go-to-girl' of all time. Then one day, I made this one important decision, and decided to love myself. Like a domino, all these people I helped, started to judge me. Well in fairness to some, they tried to understand that decision. And regardless of how unconfortable they are with that decision to be 'self-involved', they stood by me. Whatever the agenda they have, if they stand by me now because they need me, or because they simply love me back, I am thankful.
I am trying to come to terms with 'compassion fatigue' these days. Slowly, I am able to let go of the feelings of insecurity, of the fear that others I helped would shun me and keep me out of the lives, of being alone and 'unloved'. For years, I was terrified of not pleasing everyone. Now, I am surprisingly calm about all the fact that indeed, I cannot solve the problems of the world. I have started to be numb about how others see me, or bluntly put, I just do not seem to care anymore. Reckless, maybe, but I draw strength to navigate this path with reason, from my kids. Oh, Ana is the best daughter. She tells me what she finds 'wrong' without sugarcoating anything. And I listen to her. Aidan is funny, he sort of gives me unsolicited advice in his smart-ass ways.
They say, one cannot serve others from an empty vessel. I have been empty for years. Yet I gave all that I could even from that emptiness. I did my best. I am filled to the brim now, because I took the courage to think of myself first, my family first, others second and only if I can help. It will take a while to get used to it, but I am absolutely sure I will. 'Compassion Fatigue'. Aidan said, "Mom, in other words, 'fed up'". That made me really laugh hard. For the first time in my life, no other than my son put it like it should be. I am fed up.
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