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Rescuers - A Want To Be Saved

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nic

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I got the idea for this thread after reading Awakening's honest and powerful resonse to the "Sympathy" thread. (I hope you don't mind, Awakening.)

Anyway, when I was a younger, especially during the time of the trauma, I, too was looking to other people to "rescue" me from my situation. I often had fantasies of a teacher, coach, or other adult figure taking me out of the situation I was in, both literally and figuratively. Sometimes, in my fantasy, this would be done through a simple talk about what was going on, and other times the fantasy went as far as me going to live with the rescuer and not having to deal with my own [real] situation ever again. The odd thing is, while I was fortunate to have many wonderful teachers, mentors, etc., I NEVER spoke about the abuse, and instead did everything I could to try and hide it. I don't know if, perhaps, I really WAS hoping that someone would find out and therefore help but was just too ashamed to let on.

That being said, I think it is interesting that I am the teacher now, and often I do put myself in that rescuer role. I've been teaching for six years now, and while (I think) I went into the profession because of my love for literature and passion for teaching it, I wonder if another reason may have to do with this idea of rescuers. (If I couldn't be rescued, then perhaps at least I can rescue someone else.) I also worked as a rape crisis counselor for a couple of years, and I think this may also be due to the desire to rescue.

I am wondering (first off), if anyone else shares this need to rescue, and (secondly) if this is healthy or not. After all, it seems ironic that while I am trying to be a rescuer to many of my students, I still deal with many of the same issues.
 
Oh, yes, I have the very same internal talk about someone rescuing me, and I do this on a daily basis. In my mind, I am injured and traumatized, and a character from an old TV show (I am in the show) rescues me and loves me and kind to me. I have done this since I was about 8 years old.

The difference with me is that I told neighbors' mothers and teachers that i was being molested and they did nothing. The police came to my house several times and did nothing because my parents quickly cleaned up the fight area and themselves before the police got there, and back then, the police did not get involved in domestic fights. Nobody ever attempted to rescue me, and I am angry about that because they should have helped me, but did nothing. In my mind, these adults are partially responsible for my abuse because they knew it was happening and did nothing to stop it.

I also went into teaching, but I taught adults because the thought of teaching and possibly rescuing a child from the same trauma I went through makes me freeze up. I stay away from children now because they are so vulnerable and they make me nervous. I cry uncontrollably if i think a child is being maltreated. I can't stand it.

I have called the police on people who were whipping children in parking lots, and I have had arguments with women in the bathroom for calling their kid stupid. Once I threatened to hit a woman if she hit her child one more time, she was going to get a beating from me that she would never forget. We screamed about how ironic it is that if adults hit each other, there will be assault charges, but she thought she could beat her child with no consequences.

To answer your second question as to whether this dreaming of a rescuer is healthy or not, I don't know, but I probably won't stop doing it.
 
Rescue fantasies are something I also engaged in from early on. Today I see them as an attempt at self-comforting. Offering myself in my imagination that which was nowhere to be found in reality. And if it were available, yes, I was too ashamed and afraid to ask for it. Indeed, needing anything like that was a punishable offense in my world.
A relative I only ever saw about three times as a kid was once spontaneoulsy kind to me in the aftermath of one of my mother's rages. That was a bewildering experience, but it felt so good at the same time that for years afterwards I fantasized about going to live with her. The cost of those fantasies was enormous feelings of guilt and disloyalty, and fear of discovery. Still, I took what comfort they offered when I most needed to.

When I read posts about rescuing I am always of two minds. I know of course that to literally attempt to save another is futile and unhealthy. But I also know that the world would be a much much worse place if no one were ever willing to extend themselves to another. I think those of us who have been badly hurt are often more attuned to the hurts of others. We actually see things that other may not, and are thus in a position to respond.

The willingness to be available is one of my ways of trying to break the cycle of abuse. Lately I make a conscious effort to be a part of the lives of my niece and nephew, whose parental constellation is complicated and pretty unhealthy. Not that I can fix anything, but I remember and still live with the results of a childhood,and especially an adolescence in which there was literally noone to talk to. No one paying attention as I fell deeper and deepr into trouble. I will not allow that to happend to them, if there is anything in my power to do about it.

And that is of course the conundrum. What is really in my power to do and what is not? What do I actually have to give without ignoring my owm needs or depleting my own still slender resources? At what point am I focussing on others as a way of distracting myself from myself?

I do what I can to stay on the healthy and thus actually helpful side of these questions. But it is important to me to be willing even if not able to help. It is one of the best things I know about myself, that I have a willing and generous heart, able to put me aside for moments at a time and look after someone else. It is what makes me sure that I am a human being after all.
 
When the abuse was taking place I did not understand why someone would not rescue me. Even though I had not told anyone; I was convinced they could tell just by looking at me. I felt so dirty and ashamed, I was sure everyone knew how bad I was; they just didn't want to help. That put a major chip on my shoulder, but let's face it; what teenager doesn't appear to have a chip on their shoulder. I felt like I stood out, when most likely I blended right in. Being shy and withdrawn kept me out of a lot of trouble.

I no longer look for a rescuer, but it angers me when people diminish another's suffering and in a gentle way; I try to rescue those suffering with my words whether they are present or not. I guess I am a passive rescuer.
 
I also fantasize about being resued when I was younger. I wish someone had taken the time to illustrate what abuse was/is. For years I had a marraige that was abusive and had no clue.

I also became a teacher after several different but associated career paths. Beside the fun of sharing my love of science with others I also feel a large part of my job is listening to my students talk about their lives. I try to model appropriate and respectful behavior to them both of good emotions and bad. Unfortunately, several students of mine have experienced abuse first had or witnessed it within their households. I also keep a sharp eye out for my students and address my concerns when I have them.

When I was in third grade and being severely abused, hiding it, and avoiding it I would purposely miss the bus to clean my teachers chalk board. Those afternoons sponging off her boards and helping clean the classroom were the best moments of refuge I ever had. They warm my heart to just reflect on them. If I can do that for someone or even break the cycle with intervention that to me would be success. I know - I have made a difference to many teenagers, preventing a suicide; safe removal from a home with daily beatings by a drunk father; listening to teenage "drama" and giving positive advice, then all my years of teaching and personal suffering in my past has some meaning and purpose in the grand scheme of things.

Today, I think my choices have been a personal mission but not unhealthy. I've helped many and to my knowledge have hurt none. Have there been some I couldn't reach or help - absolutely, but the many outweigh the few.
 
Wanting to be rescued or rescue is unhealthy no matter which way you want to spin this. Rescuing implies incompetence on behalf of whomever is the receiver of such actions. It also takes away personal responsibility and personal growth. There is nothing noble about that.

Wanting to help another is a completely different matter. Helping is to aid one or to help guide them, not carry them.

If your focus is more on the rescuing than the helping aspects you would benefit from exploring this. What is driving you to act or think like this? Are you avoiding something? Are you trying to give new endings to old traumas? Rescuing is not about the other person, it is about your needs being met in unhealthy ways.

bec
 
Rescue

I spent my entire grade school years trying to escape the school yard bullying. When I found that teachers would keep me in the classroom during recess as a way of punishing me for disturbing things, I became a class clown and kept things in a turmoil. I was a terror for the teachers. Then I met a teacher who wanted to take the punishment to a new level ... truly an assault and battery and sex abuse level. Back in the classroom, I declared my victory by throwing another spit ball at her and laughed through my tears. I though I had won the battle, but all these years later, i find that she won the war. She might have forgotten me, but i can never forget her and what she did.

Cindy ... thanks for your remarks about cleaning the board. I've always wondered why I was so focused on getting that little job and always, always being so disappointed that I was never chosen for it. Of course, it was another way for me to escape the beatings and sex abuse on the playground...at recess and after school.

So ... probably most of my teachers would have been rescuers if I had not acted so terribly in class, but they knew about the playground. They heard it from me. They heard it from others who told on the bullies. They saw it themselves and decided that I must have deserved it.

And now I find it was unhealthy to have wanted rescue, that I should have done it myself. I am sorry.
 
Ouch, I feel the need to rescue from time to time. Not as much as I used to though, mostly because I'm just too tired. I used to volunteer for a rape crisis hotline as well.

I wondered if it was unhealthy to want to rescue and figured it was like a co-dependency issue.

Between being to tired and knowing in my heart it wasn't healthy I've moved away from doing that with the exception of my son. I still battle with wanting to rescue him. eh. Oh and my brother too.

Tammy
 
I, too, fantasized early on about a rescuer. I ended up dating men who I knew were as messed up as I was hoping that I would rescue them and in turn, they would rescue me. Silly idea.

I no longer fantasize about a rescuer. I do though have a soft spot for animals and all of my "rescuing" is limited to them. My kitty is from a mother stray in the neighborhood who brought her kitten to my back door. My dog is a stray that ended up at a friend's front door. There's a house in my neighborhood that, for some unknown reason, has over 10 cats outside who never have enough to eat and none of them have been spayed or neutered, so every few months there are kittens under sheds, flea ridden and hungry and I end up bathing them all, feeding them and then calling the SPCA.

I should really volunteer to work for the SPCA.
 
Linasmom, I so can identify with you in the rescue of animals. I volunteered for an animals rescue league and enjoyed it so very much. It really makes you feel good inside helping those who can't help themselves., animal or human.

I, too have fantasized for many years of running away and being rescued. It feels so good to do that. But the reality is that no one did or is going to rescue me...still makes me feel sad inside.

Thanks for letting me share.
 
I think it is a natural response to want to be rescued from a horrible situation, I don't think it is unhealthy, I think it is something that gives us hope in the face of some pretty tough shit that happened. That wanting someone to save you means that you have hope that someday it will all stop.

I realize now that I can't 'save' anyone else I can only save myself. I can help others open up and start a conversation and I can give support and affirmation but I can't save them from their hurts.

however, when you talk about children or even teenagers whose brains are not fully developed maybe they really do need saving. If saving means stepping in and calling the police when someone is being abused then talking to that kid and finding a home for them, helping them find therapy and giving them hope then I will save someone. The trouble is that people don't follow all the way through, it is relly hard, we all know the behaviors, rage, cutting, burning, emotion distress, that is everything that someone goes through and that is alot to take on to save someone, ot walk them through that process over and over until they get it, or don't and then watch them self-destruct. Would yu really follow through?
 
No Nic, I don't mind. It's actually comforting to know others feel the same.

As well as longing for a mother figure to rescue me, comfort & nurture me, I also apparently 'enable others dependancy'. I'm much better in that regard now, but still this fantasy persists.

I've been completely open with my therapist about it. We've dug & dug. We've explored the mother issues, self worth, empowerment, responsibility, transference. Still doesn't go away.

To be honest, I've researched this for so long and yet to come up with a real way to get over it or past it or why. No one can really tell me why I'm doing it or how to alleviate it. It's I guess a mix of all things I've discussed with my therapist.

It's quite natural to long to be rescued after a trauma. My therapist likens it to a small child who falls over & scrapes her knee. Very natural for that child to run to Mummy seeking comfort & reassurance that she is okay before going back to play.

But with me I'm no longer a child, my knee has long since healed, yet I'm stuck in waiting for Mum to come & get me, and so cannot get on with going back out to play.

It's a big stumbling block for me, and I seem to be unable to get past it, around it, through it.
 
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