Empathy for All But One

Empathy is a complex word, an even more complex feeling. The dictionary definition is "identification with and understanding of another's situation, feelings, and motives." Differing from sympathy, "a general kinship with another's feelings," empathy involves a "vicarious participation" in another's feelings. Basically, it's a deeper level of sympathy.

As someone who has been hard-wired to be deeply compassionate, full of mercy, I am also someone who has great empathy for others. At times, that empathy can feel more like a curse as it drains me of so much emotional energy. The empathy that I feel pushes me to action, to somehow "help" the person for whom my heart aches. It also gives me great feelings of joy as I watch others celebrate. Yes, I am one of those people who not only smiles at the preacher while he's talking as if it offer encouragement but also one of those people who smiles at those on television as if I am able to offer them encouragement as well!

I often pray, asking God to show me ways that I can make a difference in people's everyday lives, and He offers me those opportunities. In a public restroom yesterday, a lady in a wheelchair was struggling to get into the stall since there was no handicapped stall. I offered to help her stand so that she could walk into the restroom, knowing that it might be awkward but feeling that she really needed my help. As I was leaving that same building, an older lady was standing by the door with a cane, waiting for someone to hold the door for her. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity. Then, only a few minutes later as I was driving home, I came upon an old car stalled in the middle of the road as the driver stood watching car after car go around her. I offered to call someone for her, and in minutes, she was in my car as I took her to the gas station, the bank, and back to the gas station.

I'm not singing my praises as I write this but instead am giving you a glimpse into who I am, how deeply I am concerned about others. This glimpse is to drive home the great insight of my therapist as we sat yesterday and discussed empathy and compassion. As I was sharing with her how painful it can be to step into all of the shoes walking through my house as well as those shoes that I encounter throughout the day, she made a great observation.

In explaining my feelings to Meg, I related an argument that my husband and I had had on Monday night in which I felt that he didn't validate, empathize, or even recognize my feelings. Upon his leaving, I sank into a pool of tears at my computer, broken-hearted and feeling that, while I try to offer great compassion for every single person in my home, there is sometimes none given back to me when I need it most. Suddenly, I had the overwhelming desire to cut myself, to hurt myself physically so that the emotional pain would be pushed away. Eventually, I headed to the kitchen where I ate the last six pop-tarts, knowing that I would purge them immediately and that all emotional pain would be gone, at least for the moment. And it worked. Momentarily.

Truly, though, in that moment what I wanted, what I needed, was empathy, compassion, someone to step into my shoes. There was no one in that particular moment....or was there? Meg showed me that while I can have great empathy for the man on the corner begging for money even if he put himself in that situation through drug use or laziness, I can find no empathy for myself. I'm able to be empathic with criminals when I see the way that they have been raised, the lack of nurturing and stability, yet I'm unable to extend that same empathy to myself. Am I not just as deserving of my love, my compassion, my kindness, my feelings as those around me? As a mother, why do I feel guilty, selfish when I NEED, going so far as to label those needy emotions as selfishness, self-pity, unworthiness? So full of empathy.....for all but one.