Up until September 12th of 2003, I was known within my family and circle(s) of friends as the listener, the advice-giver, in other words, the shrink. When someone was having problems, I was the one to write, see or call.
The frequency and overall quantity of such occasions declined quite drastically following the before-mentioned date. After that date, I learned that while it's nice to be there for family and friends and to help as much as is possible, it's not good to partake in these activities so regularly that one loses track of their own needs and wants. That's what happened prior to September 12th, 2003. I put all my friends and family before myself and I wound up losing track of who I was, who I wanted to be and what I needed and wanted. After that date, I finally learned to look after myself first and foremost and to not let friends and family use me for constant listening and advice and/or typecast me as the counselor.
In time, I've been able to weed out most of my former "patients," but unfortunately, not all of them. There are a couple people in particular who come to me with regularity to vent and receive feedback on a problem they're having. I've known these two people almost all my life. They mean a great deal to me, but it seems they still have this idea that I'm their counselor lodged into their minds and they're seemingly unable to let go of that image. Once in a while, I don't mind it. I'll be happy to listen to them talk for a half hour and if they want, give them some advice. However, I can't do this on a regular basis.
Just the other day, they called in succession of one another, with there being about a 5-minute gap between the two phone calls. Both calls lasted about 20-30 minutes a piece and I may have uttered 20-30 total words in those two "conversations".
It gets a tad frustrating sometimes. It feels like my ears mean more to them than anything else. So long as I say, "Uh-huh," "Yeah," "Right" and "Mm hm," they're content. They also talk very quickly, so I have to find that split-second when they pause to get in a few words. Then when I'm about to speak, that's when I hear, "Well, I've got to get going. I'll talk to you later." Yeah, how true that sentiment is, THEY"LL talk to me later. I obviously won't be doing any talking.
I just wish these two people actually showed interest in more than themselves and their problems. If they're true friends, I'd think they'd ask me a few questions, be curious on what is going on in my life. Once in a while they will, but those times are few and far between.
It's kind of funny. From these two individuals in particular, I'll hear the comment, "You're kind of quiet." Yeah, I am when talking, excuse me, listening to them. They should hear what takes place when I'm talking with someone else. I and others can actually hear my voice! It's the damnedest thing! It's really quite something to have known a couple people for most of one's life and yet to come to the realization they don't know you all that well. Hopefully they'll eventually drop the typecast, but I'm not going to get my hopes up.
The frequency and overall quantity of such occasions declined quite drastically following the before-mentioned date. After that date, I learned that while it's nice to be there for family and friends and to help as much as is possible, it's not good to partake in these activities so regularly that one loses track of their own needs and wants. That's what happened prior to September 12th, 2003. I put all my friends and family before myself and I wound up losing track of who I was, who I wanted to be and what I needed and wanted. After that date, I finally learned to look after myself first and foremost and to not let friends and family use me for constant listening and advice and/or typecast me as the counselor.
In time, I've been able to weed out most of my former "patients," but unfortunately, not all of them. There are a couple people in particular who come to me with regularity to vent and receive feedback on a problem they're having. I've known these two people almost all my life. They mean a great deal to me, but it seems they still have this idea that I'm their counselor lodged into their minds and they're seemingly unable to let go of that image. Once in a while, I don't mind it. I'll be happy to listen to them talk for a half hour and if they want, give them some advice. However, I can't do this on a regular basis.
Just the other day, they called in succession of one another, with there being about a 5-minute gap between the two phone calls. Both calls lasted about 20-30 minutes a piece and I may have uttered 20-30 total words in those two "conversations".
It gets a tad frustrating sometimes. It feels like my ears mean more to them than anything else. So long as I say, "Uh-huh," "Yeah," "Right" and "Mm hm," they're content. They also talk very quickly, so I have to find that split-second when they pause to get in a few words. Then when I'm about to speak, that's when I hear, "Well, I've got to get going. I'll talk to you later." Yeah, how true that sentiment is, THEY"LL talk to me later. I obviously won't be doing any talking.
I just wish these two people actually showed interest in more than themselves and their problems. If they're true friends, I'd think they'd ask me a few questions, be curious on what is going on in my life. Once in a while they will, but those times are few and far between.
It's kind of funny. From these two individuals in particular, I'll hear the comment, "You're kind of quiet." Yeah, I am when talking, excuse me, listening to them. They should hear what takes place when I'm talking with someone else. I and others can actually hear my voice! It's the damnedest thing! It's really quite something to have known a couple people for most of one's life and yet to come to the realization they don't know you all that well. Hopefully they'll eventually drop the typecast, but I'm not going to get my hopes up.
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