Love is trust. It's trusting those you love to try not to hurt you and that when they do (people aren't perfect) that working through it is worth it. These people we trust have the ability to cut us the deepest.
In the strangest place I found this explained perfectly. In Season 2 of the Netflix series "Daredevil" they introduced The Punisher, who was a vigilante who killed the guilty in his war on crime. He'd lost his family due to gang violence and though most of his soul was corrupted by this he gave advice to a character who was worried about being hurt in a relationship. (Language warning)
"People that get inside you and and and tear you apart, and make you feel like you're never gonna recover. Shit. I'd I I would chop my arm off right here, in this restaurant, just to feel that one more time for my wife. My old lady, she didn't just break my heart. She She'd rip it out, she'd tear it apart, she'd step on that shit, feed it to a dog. I mean, she was ruthless. She brought the pain. But she'll never hurt me again. You see, I'll never feel that. You sit here and you're all confused about this thing, but you have it. You have everything. So, hold on to it. Use two hands and never let go."
Pain is part of the love. It's unintentional to be sure for the most part (or should be) but it comes from putting complete trust in an imperfect being.
I'm not advocating staying with someone abusive either. Only you can determine if your situation is just natural consequence of love and trust or if it is deliberate and abusive.
Segueing rather clumsily to depression or anxiety (or other mental ilness). Trusting comes with a deeper price. Loving comes with a heavier toll. Letting people in may mean less loneliness but it also invites deeper wounds to an already septic mind.
“The only thing more exhausting than being depressed is pretending that you’re not.” —Anonymous, Twitter
“The broken will always be able to love harder than most because once you’ve been in the dark, you learn to appreciate everything that shines.” —Anonymous, Twitter
Putting yourself out there to more people means giving the keys to your pain to more people. It's overwhelming. It's exhausting. It hurts deep when they hurt you. Some figure out how to interact and keep their barriers intact. Making only superficial connections and holding their few true friends/family/spouses/etc. close.
I don't do that very well. I invest in people too quickly because I think that's the mask that people want to see. Especially among groups that I can tell myself logically that I'm safe. Volunteer groups, church, etc. I make the effort to be that person, to be useful, I usually try too hard to fit in (often in an annoying way). Quickly, I become overwhelmed. My scant energy reserves are depleted. I begin to see the look in people's eyes that I'm annoying them by trying too hard or I let them down in some way. Then I realize that I'm giving away energy and it's coming from the reserves that are intended for my close trusted circle. You see I've always had a hard time with the saying, "The more love you give, the more you have." I don't have an endless supply.
So then it comes, the question, "Why aren't you participating in (insert activity or responsibility here)." When I try to say, that it's too much for me then comes the advice. You'll have plenty of energy for it if you try, or if you pray more or if you exercise more. Usually the advice comes without even asking if I already do these things. Then guilt is added, "You're needed here. We miss your spirit, or your voice, or your thoughts."
Without me even giving the key the lock has been picked and my pain is being poked at. It's a grizzly bear and now people are jabbing it with sticks trying to get it to leave me alone, thinking they are helping and I'm caught between the bear and the people. I'm always the first casualty as I'm consumed and then often the bear is not satisfied and goes for the others.
The beast that is mental illness isn't a choice. It doesn't have a cure. It's a chronic disease. Slowly rotting parts of your mind away as you struggle to hold it at bay. Faith can help cope and even strengthen parts of your mind but you can no more expect your God to "cure" it than my father could expect God to spontaneously regrow his amputated legs.
So, back to trust. If you're part of that small group for someone, know that makes you special. They know you'll let them down, they'll think they're always letting you down. They choose to make you worth it. For whatever reason, your heart is worth the pain. Don't feel bad if you're not in someone who is struggling 's circle either. They're trying to keep their circle small and close. You may even eventually find a spot there. A person with a broken mind still wants to not be lonely but they know they can only hold a few hearts close without risking losing it all. Be available but don't force your way in.
People are imperfect. Even if they're not broken.
