CW: brief discussion of suicidal ideation
This week I want to talk about what it feels like to be a burden even when the people in your life try to tell you that you’re not, and why it’s actually okay to be a burden sometimes. I’m telling you ahead of time where I’m going with this because I don’t want anyone to get stuck in the first half, not make it to the last bit, and lose hope. So that’s where I’m headed. Hope.
I am a burden. I have been a burden for a very long time. I am not self-supporting. I am a financial burden, a housework burden, an emotional burden. I used to be these things primarily on my parents, these days I am these things primarily on my partner. I’m kind of resigned to it at this point, since I’ve spent much more of my life feeling like a burden than I have spent not feeling like a burden. But some days are seem worse than others.
So, what does it feel like to be a burden? For the most part, for your average self-aware person, it feels not very good. If you’re depressed already, there’s a good chance that this sense of being a burden is intertwined with suicidal ideation.1 It certainly was for me, in the past. There’s a lot of guilt about the impact you have on the lives of people around you. For example, I’ve more than once found myself wondering how much better Adam’s life would be if I wasn’t in it. It doesn’t make a difference that Adam insists it wouldn’t. It doesn’t even make a difference that, rationally, I can see I’m not a burden all of the time or in every way, that I actually provide some value in addition to being a burden. I feel being a burden in a way that I don’t feel being a benefit.
People like to tell the burdens in their lives that they are not burdens. It’s a lie. Just because you don’t mind carrying something heavy doesn’t mean it doesn’t slow you down. And we burdens, we know that. So “But you’re not!” simply doesn’t have the impact that it should. Instead, it can2 make us feel like we’re being even more of a challenge to deal with because not only are we dragging people down, but they also feel compelled to lie about it to spare our feelings because we’re so sensitive. Does this mean the helpers should feel bad about saying it? Not exactly. It’s extremely difficult to talk about this subject, and not having the words or concepts for it is not a failing. Just be aware that a verbal denial of the burden doesn’t negate the existence of the burden.
So now I suggest that it is 100% possible to be a burden on someone else, including someone that you care about, and yet not be resented by that person. Not be doing anything wrong by being a burden.
If I’m really and truly a burden, then, how can that be okay? Well, for one thing, humans like to help. Have you heard about races, you know, the events where the entire goal is to cross the finish line as fast as possible, where someone is injured and someone else stops to help them to the finish line? The fact that people will forego what appears to be in their own best interests to help someone else suggests, at least to me, that there is actually something inherently beneficial in that kind of sacrifice.
There’s an Ira Byock quote that gets passed around a lot online, no idea if the related story is true or not, but it clearly speaks to people.
“A student once asked anthropologist Margaret Mead, “What is the earliest sign of civilization?” The student expected her to say a clay pot, a grinding stone, or maybe a weapon.
-Ira Byock
Margaret Mead thought for a moment, then she said, “A healed femur.”
A femur is the longest bone in the body, linking hip to knee. In societies without the benefits of modern medicine, it takes about six weeks of rest for a fractured femur to heal. A healed femur shows that someone cared for the injured person, did their hunting and gathering, stayed with them, and offered physical protection and human companionship until the injury could mend.
Mead explained that where the law of the jungle—the survival of the fittest—rules, no healed femurs are found. The first sign of civilization is compassion, seen in a healed femur.”
I could talk about reciprocity, say that you help someone else as much as they help you, that maybe they get something from seeing your smiling face or your appreciation of their help. And maybe that’s even true. But I don’t think paying someone back is what’s important here. I don’t think a reward is what’s important here.
What’s more important is this. If there is something wrong or bad about being a burden… what if somebody else needed to be a burden for a while? What if this person who has been caring for me for years suddenly needs someone to care for them? Would that be okay? I would argue that it would. Because this state of “being a burden” is actually morally neutral. If I am doing my best3 to carry my own weight, there is no reason, none at all, to feel ashamed if now and then it turns out that I can’t. Even if now follows then only to be immediately succeeded by now again. Because there would be no shame in my partner or my parents needing help. It’s the self-compassion (link: https://self-compassion.org) argument. How would you respond if someone you loved came to you saying the same things you’re saying to yourself?
In sum, sometimes you are a burden. But sometimes, everyone needs to be a burden. Who are you to deny someone else’s right to need help by telling them they’re not allowed to make the decision to help you right now?
—
1 If you are experiencing depression and/or suicidal ideation, please reach out to a mental health professional.
2 Not does but can.
3 Which is likely – if someone doesn’t appear to be doing their best it’s probably because something is getting in their way. Maybe they would carry their own weight if they have the time or energy. Maybe they would carry their own weight if they knew how.