At some point in your life, you became the dependable one. You became the one that people loved because you were quote unquote reliable. You were the one who shows up, who handles things, who doesn't fall apart. The one that people can lean on, the one who figures everything out, the one who holds everything together. What they don't see is what it costs you to stay that way. And they don't ask you what it does to you. Being reliable isn't a personality trait, it's a role. And that role always comes with a price. Welcome back to Brain vs. Me. I am your host, Joshua Erickson. And today we're going to be talking about the cost of being the reliable one. Now, to be clear, most likely you didn't choose this role. It found you. People see you as strong. They come to you for support because you handle things. You don't complain. You keep moving. But eventually, that strength becomes an expectation. And at first, most likely earlier in your life, you didn't mind it. You liked that people relied on you. You liked people seeing you as strong. You liked that people came to you for support to help them. You liked the fact that they saw these other traits in you, these qualities in you, and admired them. It felt good. You felt useful. You felt helpful. So you kept doing it. And kept doing it and kept doing it. But eventually, it became exhausting. Eventually, you wanted to complain. But now you don't feel like you can complain. You don't feel like you can or want to handle things. You don't feel like you can or want to keep moving. That strength that became an expectation. Now it's more like a contract, an unbreakable contract that you signed for yourself. So, how did you become the reliable one over time? How did you get there? Because it's built. It's not built in one day. It happens slowly. You're helpful. You go out of your way. You find that you have to learn to cope early with these issues that are coming up of you not getting what you want. But being happy because everyone else is happy. Everyone else relies on you and it feels good. So you learn to cope. You adapted, you stayed calm. You didn't fall apart publicly. So people trusted you with the weight of their problems, their burdens, the things that they needed done, the things they needed help with. And they liked you because you didn't ask for anything back. Nothing. You didn't ask for this. You just absorbed it. You didn't stop. This is what I was like until I was probably 18 years old. I went out of my way to help everybody. Don't know why. Other than what I said earlier, where I liked people seeing me that way. It felt good. It made me feel good. I liked being the trusted one. I liked being the one who could help you stop falling apart. But over time, all this stuff that you're doing weighs on you, even if people don't see it. And after a while, you just you get to a point where you can't do it anymore. But nobody wants to hear it. Because if the reliable one suddenly stops wanting to help people, what the hell is wrong with them? You know, something's changed with them. I don't know what's going on, but they need help. No, what they need is for you to do your own shit. What they need is for you to stop trying to stop asking them to solve your problems and go to a fucking therapist yourself. They need you to recognize that they are struggling and they need help. But some people treat the reliable one as different, as never needing help. They convince themselves that you don't ever need anything. Maybe you're just self-sufficient and you're amazingly strong in every way. So they don't ask. Or if they do, it's just the same way as you ask someone at work, how was your weekend? You don't care. They don't care to answer you. You say it was fine, or they say it was fine, and you move on. Right? That's what it's like. Do you need any help? Yeah, okay. I'm going. That's not a real thing. Now, what people see is what you're showing them. What you feel is not what you sh what you show them. So you're not showing them how it's affecting you. So all they see is what you want them to see. We've talked about masking a lot on this podcast because it affects so many things, and I'm gonna keep talking about it because it comes up a lot. So what they see is external strength. What you feel is internal fatigue. You look composed, you sound confident, you appear stable, but internally you're carrying everything. You're carrying their burdens, their problems, and your burden and your problems. And everyone else that you help. You're carrying that. You're trying to remember to do the things you need to do to help everyone else because you want them to feel good. You want them to have an easier time, to feel better about themselves, to be stable. So you do it all. And like I said, you keep that composure, you keep that confidence. You make yourself seem stable. You don't let them know how you really feel. Because in your mind, if you let them know how you feel, they're not going to be able to rely on you. Which doesn't feel good. And also, you can't help them. And they're gonna struggle, and you can't live with that. You can't live with the idea of them struggling just because you're falling apart inside. So you carry this emotional load where you're not just solving problems, you're holding all the emotions. Like I said a minute ago, you're holding all of their problems and solving their problems and yours. People vent to you. You don't vent to them. People rely on you. There's maybe no one you can rely on to provide the same thing to you that you do to others. People expect you to be calm, no matter what, to absorb their stress and never give any of that back. You think you're doing them a favor. Maybe you are, but you're doing yourself a giant disfavor. You're not unloading your stress, your issues, your anxiety. You're not talking to anyone about it. You can't keep it inside forever. I couldn't keep it inside forever. And it becomes a problem if you don't recognize that. If you don't recognize what you're holding inside, trying to be that reliable one. Because you will break. You won't be able to solve the problems, you won't be able to be relied upon. You have to be able to unload, invent as well. You are not a container. You are a person who has the same needs and wants as those other people who rely on you so heavily. So, what do you do if you can't go to those same people you're helping and unload and invent to them? Well, you do everything alone. You isolate yourself. Where you can have a breakdown where no one is around. So people will still assume that you're fine. Nobody's gonna check on you, and you don't want to burden anyone else. So you stay quiet, you carry it alone. Solitude becomes the only place where you can recharge, where you can get strength. And yet, in that solitude, while you might think that it's helping, you're not actually solving any problems because your problems that you're feeling, that you're facing, aren't going to be solved by simply isolation. You need to talk to other people. It helps. So you might think isolation is going to get you what you want, get you strength. But that strength isn't truly gonna come from silence. You don't have to hold everything. You don't have to always be the calm one, you don't have to fix everything. And remember, you're allowed to need support. You're allowed to rest. You're allowed to tell someone else, I just need to talk. That is not weakness, that is balance. And if you don't find a way to balance what you feel with what other people are giving to you, one day you won't be able to be the reliable one at all. I want you to remember that being reliable doesn't mean being invincible. It just means you learned how to survive quietly. But you don't have to carry the world alone. You don't have to be everyone's anchor. You're allowed to be supported too. Thanks for listening. I'm Joshua Erickson. This is the Spend the Brain vs. Me podcast. Remember, even the strong ones deserve space to breathe.