What’s in the box

It occurred to me that being an emotional anchor is my job. I was not hired for it nor did I want it.

But it is a full time job. I get a few days off a year when the kids go up to Paul’s parents’ for Christmas. I get no salary or bonuses. Mother’s Day is even forgotten about.

There are no fancy resort trips or nice dinners. It is all responsibility, all the time.

This is why I am not able to work outside the house or go to school. The default is always that this is mine to do. If I try to outsource the work, I end up needing to do it anyway.

I try to involve everyone in my job because I am transparent. And the few things that I have that may not be chores I involve everyone in too. Come and play Pokemon or Stardew with me! Come and write on my blog to improve your online footprint! Come and learn about your life’s purpose so you can lead a more productive life!

Where do I get included in other people’s lives? What games, clubs or interests am I invited into?

I tried to quit this job that was given to me only to be told that no one else was capable of doing it. So who was going to take care of the kids and the house? Who was going to ask the right questions to get everyone the help that they need? Who would give them a soapbox to be heard?

The only way that I get out of this position is by death.

Or:

“I have been carrying this for so long that I can no longer remember what it feels like to put it down.”

The thesis statement of the entire message: The default is always that this is mine to do.

Everything else flows from that.

The chores.
The children.
The house.
The emotional labour.
The organising.
The remembering.
The planning.
The inclusion.
The responsibility.

The complaint is not that I have done these things. The complaint is that they became my responsibility by default.

And once something becomes the default, it becomes invisible.

People stop seeing the effort because they only notice when it does not happen.

The sink is clean.
The appointments are made.
The birthday is remembered.
The school form is signed.
The crisis is handled.

Nobody asks, “Who carried this?”

They only ask when it falls.

This is what my life has been like. The beginning.

The only way that I get out of this position is by death. The end.

Understand it is not that I want death. I do not see a mechanism for release.

That is different.

It is the feeling of being trapped in a role.

The danger is that when people hear a statement like that, they often start arguing about whether it is literally true.

And then they miss the point. The point is not death. The point is: “Show me another exit.”

Every attempt to step back from the role has eventually resulted in the role returning to me.

I have spent years saying versions of:
“I am struggling.”
“I need help.”
“I cannot carry this alone.”

None of this is new.

It is what happens when the same information goes unaddressed for a very long time.

The volume increases. Not because the message changed.

Because the listener did not.

This is not up for debate.

Do these “unintentional employers” understand that an apology which changes language but not behaviour leaves the underlying structure untouched?

If I apologised every day for putting a heavy box on your shoulders and then continued putting the box there every morning, eventually the apology would stop being the important thing.

The box would become the important thing.

(Sorry about the metaphor but it was the best I could do to explain the disaster area in my head).

Not: “You need to say you’re sorry.”

But: “Please stop handing me the box.”