even though most of them had forgotten it, were more than happy to tell you so.) The problem was that the same group who had been running a good-guy-helps-him-up program for years did not recognize, or want to recognize, that a good-guy-helps-him-up program had to become a good-guy-leaves-him-alone program if the guy really wanted to stop being on the receiving end of this kind of help. * * * I am going to keep trying to help, even though I know he doesn't really want my help. I know what you're saying, "Dude, you've got to get the heck out of there! You cannot go around enabling him!" If only I could. It's so tempting. I could almost tell you exactly when I started thinking about leaving—it was in seventh grade. My parents were always saying, "You know, he needs a mother." Then one day when I was home from school, my parents were both home, and they gave me money and sent me on an errand. I was so happy, I hugged my mother goodbye. Then I left for school and when I returned home from school that afternoon, no one was home. I went into the bathroom, took a little piece of wood and started slashing the inside of my arm. And I remember thinking, "Wow! Now I'm doing everything I know how to do to get myself thrown out of here. At the time, I was just trying to get myself cut." From that point on, I could almost hear people thinking, "We're not going to help that boy!" * * * Most people probably would not make the connection between "help" and "enabling," but most of these students had been helped so often by their peers and teachers that they felt very little reason to be ashamed of themselves, so they could not hear the message: "There is a limit to how much help you can expect to receive from other people. They can only help you so much and then you must help yourself." And this is the biggest problem of all: most of these children are raised to expect as much help from others as possible—not just from peers but from teachers, family, and the community, too. * * * My uncle has Alzheimer's disease. If he does something stupid, I feel like he doesn't deserve any help. I don't want to be like him. * * * Let me ask you this: do you honestly believe that any amount of help is better than none at all? Have you ever actually tried to live without any help? I used to feel this way myself. But my uncle has Alzheimer's disease. If he does something stupid, I feel like he doesn't deserve any help. I don't want to be like him. The more help he gets, the more trouble he finds himself in—it's a never-ending cycle. He won't be able to manage on his own anymore, and one day he's going to hurt himself or someone else—or himself and someone else. And that's just what happens: once he hurts himself, he's unable to be left alone. I was his primary caretaker for many years, but he's still my uncle and I still love him, so I do help him, and I do all I can to make him feel wanted and important. But when it comes down to it, I prefer to be in the same boat as him and keep my eyes on my oar. I don't want to become the "bad guy." * * * In my neighborhood, there are lots of people who live like this. The people who call it "helping" usually don't want to see it as enabling—they think it makes them look really good that they're so generous. If someone has too much help around him or her, they think they're a hero. * * * There was a time when the community saw "looking good" as a bad thing. It took all kinds of people to make the United States of America what it is, but it was not necessarily an all-inclusive "us." Sometimes it was the "winners" who did the "helping," and sometimes the "losers," but in either case, the help was limited to those who deserved to receive it. As you have seen, no one believes that anymore. In today's culture, "looking good" is often the goal—regardless of how it comes about, and how it affects others. Not only do we not understand the danger of making ourselves look good by enabling others, but we fail to realize that many people need their help more than anyone else. As a result of these factors, we often feel frustrated and disappointed when we look around and see so much need. Let me give you an example. In my neighborhood, there are lots of people who live like this. The people who call it "helping" usually don't want to see it as enabling—they think it makes them look really good that they're so generous. If someone has too much help around him or her, they think they're a hero. They think that they, or others like them, have done a good deed that will be spoken of favorably for a long time. We can learn from this that people only want to be thought of as heroic, charitable, and kind when they do things that others consider "good" or "right" or "helping." But sometimes help is just as bad as the things we are trying to help people avoid. * * * The worst thing about our neighborhood is that it's filled with people who make promises they have no intention of keeping, just so people can feel good about themselves. * * * In most communities in America, help is defined as "being a good person," and help is given to make others appear to be good people. The best example of this is when the same person helps over and over again, and people around him or her say, "Wow, isn't that generous of you! Look at the person you're helping, he doesn't have a chance without you." They think that the person who is being helped can't help himself, and that the only solution is for the person doing the helping to go around providing "good deeds" that will help him "get ahead" in the world. As a result, sometimes help turns into enabling, and this becomes a vicious cycle. In many cases, these are the same people who get the biggest laughs and admiration from those around them when they make big promises that they can't possibly keep. In my community, people who lie to be treated kindly are known as good-doers or good-doers with a small "d," but in my neighborhood, the worst thing about our neighborhood is that it's filled with people who make promises they have no intention of keeping, just so people can feel good about themselves. As a result, it's not unusual to hear someone say, "He was such a good guy. He gave me a beautiful gift, I wonder what's wrong with him now?" This is what it means to be addicted to "looking good" in the culture of self-help. People have allowed these trends to ruin their values and they are very concerned with others' expectations. No one cares how it happens; as long as help—big or small—is going to happen, then they want to be there to witness it. * * * I'm not supposed to be helping her. I feel like I'm doing what everyone thinks I'm supposed to do—help her—and that's it. But I'm not sure if that's right or wrong, so I can't tell if I should just do it or not. And I don't want to tell people I'm doing something I'm not. But I'm supposed to get married someday, and I know she won't be able to help herself, so I might have to. If I can't tell people that this isn't what I want to do, then how am I supposed to change my mind? How can I do this when I don't know what I want? * * * One of the real problems with enabling is that it's hard to stop—especially if you believe it's helping. And it is hard, because it's hard to admit that you don't really need help, and that you're not really doing anyone a favor by helping. That's why many of these people are conflicted. They want to avoid making the situation worse than it already is, but they can't figure out a way to make things better. The reason is because the more they help others, the harder it is for them to accept the consequences of their behavior. * * * What's happening to me is very frightening. Sometimes I don't even know how to explain it. I feel like I'm losing myself. It's happening all over, not just to me, but to lots of people—and it's all over the place, from all walks of life. * * * Many of these people do not realize how they are being used—by other people, by themselves, and by the communities that surround them. At first glance, you could think that a person who is trying to find themselves by being helpful is a good thing, but they forget how important it is to know themselves. All of a sudden, they forget what they were talking about before, and they can't say why they're doing what they're doing anymore. In many cases, it's not just that they're doing