The Unimaginable Pain Of Watching Someone You Love Disappear In Front Of You

I’m not sure you can truly understand what it’s like to watch someone you love slowly disappear in front of you—unless you’ve lived it.

I’m not sure you can comprehend the quiet, desperate ache of lying awake at night, staring at the ceiling, whispering prayers into the dark: Please. Take the help. Do something. Anything. Please.

When someone you love is struggling with a mental illness that convinces them help will ruin them, what are you supposed to do? How do you save someone who doesn’t believe they’re in trouble?

In this article, you will learn:

• What it feels like to watch someone disappear in front of you
• 3 strategies to deal with the pain of missing someone who is alive
• 3 strategies to help you take care of yourself while you try to help them
• How to begin releasing control of what you cannot change

What it’s really like:

It’s like sitting in a room with red walls while they demand and protest that the walls are, in fact, blue.

It’s questioning your own reality, wondering, Is it me? Am I the one who’s wrong?

It’s rehearsing the perfect sentence in the perfect tone, as if the right words could finally unlock the door and pull them back into the light.

It’s wondering every single day if they’ll still be here tomorrow.

It’s a constant hum of hypervigilance that seeps into your bones. Are they okay? Are they eating? Are they sleeping?

It’s watching someone you love become a stranger, searching their face for the person you know is still in there. It’s fumbling for answers when people ask how they’re doing and realizing you have no idea what to say. It’s living from crisis to crisis.

It’s never fully relaxing because, at any moment, the bottom might drop out.

It’s watching someone drown with a life raft within reach—and knowing they won’t grab it.

It’s a helplessness so heavy you wouldn’t wish it on your worst enemy.

How do you watch someone destroy themselves?

Sometimes, all the well-meaning advice about setting boundaries feels impossible to apply. How are you supposed to take care of yourself while their mental health is actively tearing through your life? How do you keep believing that mental health matters when protecting your own feels like abandoning theirs?

How do you deal with being “the problem” or the obstacle standing between them and the things they want? You’re the one “making them crazy,” the reason they can’t just “live and have fun.” They tell you you’re making things worse. And yet… you watch them dissolve right in front of you. Their words change. Their thoughts twist into something you can’t follow. They become fixated on a reality you can’t share, a world you can’t enter.

3 strategies to deal with the pain of missing someone who is alive

If you’re living this—if you’re in the thick of loving someone who can’t or won’t get help—please hear this: It is not your fault. You are not crazy. And you are not alone.

1. Take every day as it comes. It’s important not to project too far into the future. Instead, approach each day with curiosity and deal with what is in front of you. If things change, you will change, too.

2. You’re allowed to remember the good times. I know it can be hard to remember positive moments when they’re struggling. You may even avoid allowing yourself to remember the good times. But, it’s ok to remember positive moments. Sometimes, they can be a liferaft in the chaos.

3. Validate your feelings and admit what is happening. You have to be brutally honest with yourself about what is actually happening with this person and your feelings. Give yourself permission to feel the feelings you’re having, and try not to judge yourself.

Taking Care Of You

I know that, sometimes, when their name flashes across your phone screen, your first thought is, I don’t know if I have the strength for this today. And then, of course, comes the panic: But what if something happens? What if this is the time they hurt themselves? What if it’s because I didn’t answer? I couldn’t live with myself.

So you jump at every text. Every call. You stay on high alert around the clock. You sacrifice your peace because what other choice is there? Sometimes, you enable them—not because you don’t know better, but because you just want them to feel okay. And if you're honest, sometimes it’s for you, too. You just want peace.

You can’t save them by losing yourself. And even in this, the most impossible kind of heartbreak, your peace matters, too. It’s so cliche, but you cannot pour from an empty cup. You will eventually become unable to help your family member, or your help will be ineffective.

3 strategies to help you take care of yourself while you try to help them

1. Separate yourself from their behavior and the outcome. This is very hard, especially when the stakes are high and someone is at risk. But remember that you are not the only influence on their mental health and their behavior. You can be kind, empathetic, and helpful and not hold yourself responsible for everything they do.

2. Find your people. It’s important to find even one person who understands what you’re going through and can support you. You may already have a friend like this, or you can join one of our groups at Calling Home. Having someone like this will change your life.

3. Figure out how to help sustainably. You cannot be available 24/7, or you will burn out. This means that you may have to set boundaries around when you can respond or the types of help you can provide.

How to begin releasing control of what you cannot change

One of the hardest parts about watching someone you love disappear in front of you is the lack of control. And when we want control, we may behave in ways that aren’t aligned with our values.

Whenever you feel pulled to help someone, fix something for them, or offer advice, stop to ask yourself:

• Am I trying to control the outcome here?
• Has this person asked me for help or advice?
• Am I considering how they would like to be helped?
• Do I have a full sense of the resources that this person has access to?
• Have I asked them about their own experience and gotten to know how they're feeling?
• Am I robbing this person of the privilege to learn something now?
• Do I feel like I "know" better?
• Am I genuinely worried about this person's safety or welfare if I don't step in and assist?
• Have I tried this before?
• If I help with this this way, will I violate any of my boundaries or values?

We may also try to seek control by offering help all the time and never setting boundaries. You’re allowed to say:

• “I know you’re going through a hard time. I think it would be best to find you some other support. Can I help you find a therapist?”
• “I love you, and I care about you. I, unfortunately, can’t help with this because it’s too hard for me.”
• “I'm sorry, I can’t be your sounding board about X anymore.“
• “I really understand that you're going through a hard time. I don't want you to feel like you're a burden or that you can't come to me; I just don't think I am the right person to process this with. Have you thought about talking to X?”
• “I really want to help you, and I can’t right now. Can we talk in the morning?”
• “I’m so sorry you’re going through a hard time. I have to work late tonight, but I would love to get together and talk about it this week.”
• "I really want to be there for you, and I feel like I can't really help with this. Do you think X would be better at helping you?"
• “Have you ever had one of those days when you’re overwhelmed and need time for yourself? That’s me today. I’m afraid I won't do a great job if I try to give you advice or listen. Can I check in with you (insert a time)?”

Releasing control isn’t about giving up, it’s about allowing what is to be recognized. That's such a powerful (and hard) practice. Here's a grounded way to begin releasing control of what you can’t change.

Ask yourself:

• “What am I holding onto really tightly right now?”
• “What outcome am I obsessing over or trying to force?”

Identify what’s yours vs. what’s theirs:

• What’s my responsibility? (My actions, my boundaries, my words.)
• What’s theirs? (Their feelings, their decisions, their growth.)

Then, allow yourself to focus on what is within your control while surrendering to the reality that you cannot control it all. This daily practice will take time, and you will experience moments where you slip back into old patterns.