The Fixer

Recent events have brought to light that I am a fixer. This seems to be a bad label to put on a person but in pondering it I find that there is a reason and the reasons are good.

I am a very private person who didn't easily show emotion. I picked that trick up from my Dad. It wasn't until recently that I found that on the outside he was tough and emotionless...but inside he must have been churning...just like his daughter.

I have been envious my entire adult life of my older sister because she wears her heart on her sleeve and shows how she feels. I wanted that ability. I kept so much from so many for so long that this past year has been an awakening of self.

I just read a Yes or No question that stated "I feel wonderful when I can fix other's problems, but feel terrible when I cannot". Bingo.

I want to fix the problems of those I love. I don't want them to struggle or be depressed or be unhappy. I want to do that one thing that will snap them out of it. But what I have learned is that I cannot fix it. Obviously some things can be fixed or aided but not the really deep issues. I should know this because no-one could fix me. Physically, yes. Fixing is hard work aided by some surgery and an unexpected trip to the emergency room where I prayed harder than I have in a long time. I bargained, I asked, and amazingly I was answered. Not in the way I had thought..."ok, TC, (my body or God speaking; whichever) you're not having a heart attack, but you've pushed all of this emotional junk down for so long I'm going to spew it up so that you will pay attention."

Thank you. I paid attention.

In the past several weeks I have come face-to-face with situations that make me fall back on my strong resolve but still "the fixer" comes riding in on her white horse.

I remember when Dad was struggling with his COPD; when it was uncomfortable for some just to watch him breathe, I was, mentally, breathing for him. If I could just get enough air into my lungs when he was trying to do the same I could ease his pain. Of course, I couldn't actually breathe for him but my body reacted without a thought. I would find myself breathing deeply, letting it out. I had healthy lungs, maybe some of this would help him.

I keep hearing "you cannot fix everything" and I know this, but it doesn't stop me from trying to help in ways that might make life a little easier. Perhaps it is my way to be important to someone; to truly matter in their life. I don't know. But the real reason is that I just don't want people I love to hurt. If I can help them I will try everything.

To watch someone you care for look so sad and shut down makes me hurt. I ssw this yesterday; the look on the face of utterly shutting down.

What was I to do? Act like it didn't hurt me? Not reach out and try to comfort them or just to let them know I was right there for them.