David McElroy

For years, I assumed everybody felt the way I did. I wasn’t even quite conscious of the need for a long time. It was just a vague hunger that I felt — more strongly with an occasional person — to be understood.

When I could finally put it into words, I realized that I often felt invisible. I didn’t feel understood. I didn’t feel that anyone saw my worth in the ways I needed it to be seen. I didn’t need for everyone to see me and to understand me. But from certain people — who rarely came along — I craved something which was hard to put into words.

I wanted love. Acceptance. To be seen. To be understood. I wanted for someone who I saw as my equal to be able to see me in the same way.

I eventually discovered this isn’t a universal need. Most people don’t seem to care that much about being understood. And after a lot of reading and therapy and thinking, I finally realized that my fierce need was related to a very old abandonment wound.

I wasn’t even aware the wound was there, but it was changing the relationships I cared about the most.

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When U.S. troops invaded Iraq and Afghanistan, I eagerly watched every move. The airstrikes and explosions were exciting. The constant updates on progress were addictive. For the first time in history, a person on the other side of the world could sit at home and watch people being killed on live television.

I can’t tell you now why I watched. There was nothing I could do about what was going on. The information was useless to me. Even if something I saw changed my mind about anything, what was I going to do about it?

I’m thinking about that today as Russian troops invade Ukraine. I’m not watching, but almost everybody I know is glued to the coverage of this bloody and outrageous invasion. Why are they watching? Because they’ve been brainwashed to believe responsible people “stay informed.”

The truth is that wars have become entertainment. All “news” is now entertainment and political theater. I’ve learned not to waste my time and attention on things I can’t control — and I hope you will learn this lesson which it took me way too long to learn.

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There are times when the most liberating thing you can do is to give up.

I keep deceiving myself. I tell myself that I’m finished trying to “save” others. I know it’s a waste of time and emotional energy to keep trying to save people who don’t want to be saved. People who don’t believe they need to be saved.

It’s ridiculous. It’s even arrogant of me. And it’s exhausting.

But I keep slipping back into the habit anyway, and I feel like a fool. I find that I’m not saving anyone — and I’m destroying myself by giving myself false hope that change might be coming. The truth is that change isn’t coming. Nobody is going to listen. And I need to save myself — instead of trying to become a hero by saving someone else.

When I look at reality, I see so much which is going to hurt people — some who I’ve loved, some who I’ll never know — and I want to scream in frustration that what I see isn’t obvious to those others. I was once naive enough to believe that if I just explained carefully why people were putting themselves at risk, they would eagerly make changes in their own lives.

What I find is that many people will admit — in the abstract — that they badly need change, but then they’re unwilling to do anything about it once they realize there’s a price to be paid.

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