On Giving Advice To People Trapped In Suffering (it's not a good idea)
This is something of a response to Jenn's post about getting friends to leave an abusive relationship. I don't have any experience with that particular situation, but the article reminded me of patterns that I've seen, both in myself and in other people.
You can't fix someone else's life by telling them they're wrong. Arguing with them about it will only drive them further into the mindset that justified their bad choices.
I had a friend attempt suicide twice over a situation they were catastrophizing about. I had been arguing with them about how the catastrophe they were envisioning was so incredibly unlikely, and required so many authorities hypothetically involved to act insane, that it wasn't worth worrying about. In response, they argued back, arguing that it was still possible, and that the actions I thought were insane were actually not only reasonable, but legally mandated, and the only way this whole thing was going to end was with them being murdered in prison. My arguing only intensified their engagement with their nightmare-fantasy, and it only pisses me off and stressed me out.
The impulse to argue with someone who's suffering1 is understandable. Honestly, it's hard to resist. I recognized that arguing was unhelpful early on, and I tried to avoid it, but it was hard for them to think about anything but the situation, and us talking about the situation would usually end with me slipping into an argument about it. It's infuriating to see someone you care about destroy themself, especially when the solution seems so obvious to you. Just stop doing the thing that's ruining your life! Just stop doing drugs, just break up with that douchebag who doesn't value you, just get a job that doesn't treat you like shit, just stop ruminating and think positive! It's all so simple when you're not the one who has to do it.
But when you're suffering, advice about how not to suffer is the last thing you want to hear. If you have half a brain, you've probably already considered the solution they're proposing, and you already know that it's not that simple. Nothing in a person's life ever is. "Just do the obvious thing" feels dismissive, like saying, "well, I wouldn't make such an obvious mistake. Why are you so bad at life? If I had been on the plane for your personal 9/11, it wouldn't have gone down like it did." That shame Jenn talked about, where people in abusive relationships hide the extent of that abuse from their loved ones, this is the motivation for that, I think. You know that your loved ones would tell you to leave if you told them the whole truth. Maybe part of you thinks you are an idiot for staying, so until you smarten up, you're just getting what you deserve. You know you're playing a stupid game, and you're not surprised by the stupid prize. And your self-worth is probably so ground down by abuse that you think you deserve this.
I don't have a better solution than Jenn. You really do just have to be there for them. It was all I could do for my friend. It's not going to be fun. You're going to feel frustrated, you're going to feel helpless, you're going to watch someone you love go through the worst time of their life, and you're going to feel guilty for not being able to do jack shit. But you have to be there for them. If all you can do is play cards with them in the hospital, that's enough. Your company is worth more than your advice.
In the Buddhist/mindfulness sense, where suffering is the ego's attachment to pain. I should clarify, I'm not trying to invoke the vulgar mindfulness cliche of "just don't react to pain! if you weren't so bad at mindfulness you wouldn't suffer!" I think suffering serves a purpose, in that it gives you emotional catharsis for pain, and it can help tell a story about that pain that lets you escape it.↩