Savior Complex
I've been experiencing another round of random, totally unrelated compliments on my "Strength." Trigger City for me. UDA!! (Unrealistic Demands Alert!!!) Physically, I am small enough that no one is going to ask me to compete with Mister Universe for physical strength. Size, alone, disqualifies me from that contest, unless I can be one of the Dumbells. I might give that approach to the contest a go. I hate discussions/assumptions of emotional strength. I'm okay discussing physical strength because that is a clear and simple measure. Emotional strength isnae so easy to define, much less measure. In my strictly personal quirk of informal surveys, I have asked many people to define "Strength" for me and come away believing the contestants in Strength Debates are seldom discussing the same ^it^. For sure, the measuring sticks for emotional strength come in a mind bending array.
"The Savior Complex" has been hot topic in just about all my rounds of pro therapy, usually in conjunction with my lifelong compulsion to over-compensate in EVERYTHING. Anything worth doing is worth over-doing. I've paved many a road to Hell with that good intention.
That I am "The Strong One" has been drummed into me for my entire life, first as The One of the 11 siblings whose pre-determined destiny was to save the family from its own dysfunctions, then as The One even strangers look to for instruction and control in a crisis. As a result, I've spent much of my life recovering from falls from inhumanely high pedestals. I run much faster from compliments than I do from insults. Sticks and stones are nowhere near as painful as falls from proverbial pedestals. Donae set me up for another failure/scapegoat-tenure, Jackoff. Keep your unrealistic expectations to yourself. I, too, need nursing from time to time. No, not the style of nursing where I rise from my sick bed to nurse you while I can barely stand.
Just venting. . .
Yesterday was gently productive with the soft wrap of projects in progress. Cleaning the periphery sure can make a diff. I retired early to rest in breezes of the window air conditioner during the heat of the day. As 3 a.m. approaches I am freshly caffeinated and nearly ready to use the literally coolest hours of the day to tackle one of the toughest projects on the current agenda: removing indoor/outdoor carpet glue from the concrete floor in the garage. Girl howdy, that is stubborn ass stuff. Psycho strength. . .
Replies
Expressing how comments & compliments about “strength” affect you is, in my opinion, such a profound entry as it has recalled things important to me about healing, about boundaries, and about certain “triggers” caused by ways people try to offer encouragement. The message “Savior Complex” I find to be a very powerful one & it could be very enlightening for others if you chose to share it publicly.
I am very grateful you expressed that how comments designed to build up confidence can actually have a downside when someone is struggling. No one is invincible & the definition of strength is subjective. To me there are different kinds of strength, it’s not a one size fits all measurement or qualifications. And even I occasionally confuse courage, determination, and or stubbornness with strength, so the context often confused.
I’m really glad you shared this. I’ve struggled with accepting compliments & receiving encouragement from others, and though it’s no the same, this entry really resonated with me. Comments like “you’re so aware & in touch with yourself” or similar, sometimes are my trigger. The biggest is when a therapist thanks me for “being honest & open”. So I can empathize and in my way understand. I’ve had my experiences being put on a “pedestal” and it’s a very uncomfortable and lonely place. And between the expectations I feel from others & terror of falling off makes returning to the “pedestal” a place I never want to return to.
I apologize if my comments, gratitude, and encouragement has ever been a “trigger” for you. I know I’ve often told you that you’ve been a “life saver” but I hope you were able to accept it as a form of gratitude as your support was at the moment a vital part of moving past the crisis.
Wishing you all the best, Arfie. Hugs & support.
My last hospital strength psychotic break (1998) was triggered by the newest husband of a neighbor who was proud of his new super-strength security light blasting through my bedroom window and smelled like frustrated old man and fertilizer. Over the course of the breakdown, my light sensitivities soared to phobic levels. Memories of being a child pornography "star" were emerging, complete with the low budget, amateur stage lighting. A light phobia is pure Hell here in the light ages. Light pollution has, literally and verified, reached every corner of our planet. There is no escaping it short of locking yourself in a windowless room.
During the therapy surrounding that fun little freak fest, separating the trigger from the trauma became my holy grail. Not all users of bright lights, not even the pathetic old neighbor, are child pornographers. Leave the uzi in the closet. . .
That applies here because none of the people who have triggered this round of my Savior Complex were part of it's creation. When I succeed in separating the trigger from the trauma, it is as easy as falling off a log to see that these gentle souls are only giving me sincere compliments with no strings attached.
And I thank you for the compliment, Vltava. In you I trust.
For what it's worth, my Savior Complex seems to be well contained. It hasn't gone away, but seems to be responding well to awareness and therapy tools. It works if I work it and I'm worth it.
I’m all for ‘working it if it’s working’ & I’m glad the “Complex” is “well contained” and “responding”. I think the best we can sometimes hope for is “well contained” with our triggers.
I’m still looking for a container that my triggers can fit in but whenever I seem to I can never find a matching lid or when I finally find the lid I’ve lost the container. Lately..., I’m the mental equivalent of the “Tupperware curse”..., you only have lids for tupperware you threw away years ago but the containers you bought last week that you swear included lids are mysteriously now lidless. I guess I need to make another trip to the store..., do you need anything while I’m there...
Sorry..., I’m in a quirky mood this evening as I realized this afternoon I’ve been using my OCD as a weapon in a passive aggressive war and quest for revenge when people in my house irritate me, push buttons or do those weird little things that I keep warning them trigger PTSD or my anxiety but they keep forgetting. It’s a little petty but for some reason ridiculously amusing and it has made me very quirky.
Hope you don’t mind & it lightens the day/evening for you or causes a smile as intended. Today I think I needed quirky and humor to get through it as been I’ve down too long again.
Hugs Arfie, and all the best. Keep ‘working it’ because I agree that you are definitely “worth it”.
And huge thanks for trusting in me. It means a lot, so much I’m lost for words to tell you.
Hm-m-m-m. . . A container for the triggers? ? ? Never considered the possibility, but it gives me images of one of the most dangerous toxic waste dumps in the history of humanity: An ammo dump. Ever wonder what governments do with those mega-tons of antiquated weapons and ammunition the soldiers never got around to using? It is even more toxic, secretive and wasteful than a Fashion Diva's personal Toxic People Landfill.
I first learned the psych usage of "Trigger" in "Shell shock" therapy groups while I was in the Army (73-76). It sure sounded different used by people who had some clues on the mechanics of the literal explosives from which the analogy is drawn than the current civilian usage. Literal triggers are always benign. Springs, timers, flammable materials, etc. It's the volatile mixes the triggers hit that you have to worry about. Disarming the triggers is only the first step in dealing with those lethally volatile and highly toxic mixes.
In the example I am working here, I don't want to do away with the compliments which trigger my Savoir Complex from long gone trauma. I want to calm my Savior Complex enough that I can see and appreciate the spirit in which the compliments are intended by people in the here and now. It has taken me a long time to be able to take a compliment at face value without compulsively looking for the roasting pan I am being buttered up for. As you can see, it is still a works in progress.
So psychobabbles The Arf. . . That's my just-a-patient theory and I'm sticking to it. For now.
I am beyond okay with your "quirks" here, Vltava. Those quirks are helping me explore my psychoses (pl) to a far deeper healing level than I can typically find in the popular press. I thank you.
You’re welcome to the quirks. I’m glad it helps, Arfie. Being an Army wife, I understand most of the references. Oddly I know where a lot of old munitions & toxic military is disposed of..., it’s the worst kept secret in the world..., but adds a whole new dimension to why I refer to a certain state as the 9th & 7th Circles of Hell. My dad had done work on the facilities when I was young, & it was one of the posts my husband was assigned to when we first met.
Anyhow. Thank you for understanding and also for sharing with me. You really have been a big part of my healing & making sense of everything.
I’m ‘off to see a wizar....,’ new doctor soon so I probably should stop procrastinating and quit letting the rise of anxiety control my morning.
Hugs!!!
Don't know if this helps or not with the intricacies of defining various labels, but when my wife was diagnosed with cancer six years before her death, we threw out the societal dictionaries in whole and just went with two grains of thought: It is what it is, and everything in life is in the eye of the beholder.
triple hugs~