Living With the Not-Knowing: What to Do When You Can’t Fix It

Chris Meehan, MFT
Jun 30
5 min read

Updated: 14 minutes ago

For parents, partners, and family members walking alongside someone in crisis By Chris Meehan, LMFT

If you’re walking alongside a loved one who’s in crisis—whether it’s addiction, trauma, or a psychiatric struggle—you’ve likely asked yourself the question:

What am I supposed to do when nothing I do seems to help?

You may have paid for treatment. Driven across state lines. Prayed. Pleaded. Gone to therapy. Set boundaries. Removed boundaries. Lost sleep. Lost money. Lost peace.

And now you’re just… here. Still loving someone you can’t fix.

It’s a brutal, sacred kind of ache.

And you are not alone.

The Unbearable Truth: You Might Be Helpless.

Not powerless over how you live—but helpless to make someone else choose health. There’s no pep talk that makes this easier.

It’s just the honest terrain of loving someone in the grip of something larger than you—addiction, trauma, mental illness, or self-destruction.

You cannot love someone into sobriety.You cannot logic them out of psychosis, if they are not ready to heal.

And while part of you may want tools and tips, you might first need a place to grieve what you can’t change.

Their life is not yours to fix.

That doesn’t mean you do nothing. But it might mean you start from a different place:

“I can’t save them. But I can stay grounded, loving, and clear—no matter what comes next.”

You Are Not the Problem—But You Are In the Picture

When someone you love is hurting, it’s easy to start believing lies:

If I just said it the right way, they’d get help.
If I hadn’t lost my temper, they wouldn’t have shut down.
Maybe I’m making too big a deal of it.
Maybe it’s my fault.

Here’s a more honest truth:

You may not have caused this in the way you think—but you may have been part of the story. We all are.

None of us is a perfect parent, sibling, or spouse. Sometimes we miss things. Sometimes we react out of fear.Sometimes we enable without knowing it.

That doesn’t make you bad—it makes you human.

But blame is not the same as responsibility. This isn’t about punishing the past. It’s about choosing how you’ll show up now.

And how you show up now does matter.

Your tone. Your steadiness. Your willingness to listen without rescuing, to speak without attacking. These things shape the emotional ground your loved one is standing on—even if they don’t acknowledge it.

You can’t change the past. But you can be part of something healing in the present.

The BALM Approach: A Framework for Family Healing (Part 1 of 2)

One helpful resource is the BALM® Method (Be A Loving Mirror), developed by Bev Buncher. BALM stands for:

Be the peace
Accept what is
Let go with love
Motivate through the power of calm, compassionate truth-telling

BALM isn’t about fixing or forcing change. It’s about becoming a peaceful, grounded presence.

It helps family members step out of chaos and into clarity—so that your energy isn’t tied to control, but to love, limits, and truth.

Learn more at: www.familyrecoveryresources.com

Communication in Crisis: A BALM-Inspired Skillset (Part 2)

In addition to the internal posture BALM® teaches, there’s another version of BALM that helps guide communication when emotions are high—especially with someone in distress or recovery.

This version of BALM offers a relational framework:

B = Be With — Stay emotionally present, even when it’s hard
A = Acknowledge — Name the emotion or reality gently and truthfully
L = Listen — Give space without jumping to fix or defend
M = Mirror — Reflect back what you’re seeing or hearing with clarity

This helps you show up as a steady, compassionate witness rather than a reactive fixer. It’s not about saying the perfect thing.It’s about being someone safe to be real with.

What Can I Do With My Helplessness?

When the adrenaline of trying-to-fix wears off, what’s left is often a quiet, aching question:

If I can’t control what happens to them… how do I live my life again?

Here are a few places to begin:

1. Turn Helplessness Into Presence

Helplessness is not the same as powerlessness. It just means you can’t control someone else’s choices. But you can control the way you respond—to them, and to yourself.

Ask yourself:

Can I breathe instead of beg?
Can I respond with clarity instead of urgency?
Can I say “I love you” without adding “so why won’t you…?”

This isn’t passivity. It’s strength rooted in truth.

2. Practice Loving Detachment

Loving detachment doesn’t mean withdrawal or coldness. It means you stop letting their crisis define your emotional state.

You can say:

“I care about you deeply. I’m not able to participate in this chaos.”
“I’ll support you in getting help. I can’t support this behavior.”
“I’m taking a few days to focus on my own well-being.”

These are not acts of rejection.

They are acts of sanity.

3. Create Your Own Healing Path

Whether they accept help or not, you still need a way to live.

That might mean:

Going to therapy—for you
Joining a family support group (Al-Anon, NAMI, CoDA, BALM)
Journaling your thoughts instead of sending that 2am text
Taking a vacation, even while they’re struggling
Letting yourself laugh again

You can be broken-hearted and still present.

That’s what healing looks like when you’re not in charge of the outcome.

4. Expect Regression—It’s Not Failure

One of the hardest things to witness is your loved one making progress… and then slipping back.

They were going to therapy. They seemed more connected. Maybe even hopeful.

And then, suddenly—they disappear. Or spiral. Or relapse.

This hurts. But it’s also common.

Sometimes, when people begin to heal, they get scared. Becoming free—becoming themselves—can feel disorienting. Especially when the old identity was tied to pain, crisis, or addiction.

So they regress.It doesn’t mean they’re starting over. It means they’re touching the edge of something unfamiliar.

Recovery is not linear. It loops. It stumbles. It deepens.

If you know this ahead of time, it won’t catch you off guard. It won’t shatter your hope every time it happens.

Progress can coexist with setbacks.

And you can keep showing up with steady love—even when they can’t show up for themselves.

You’re Still in the Story

You may not be able to steer their ship. But you’re still part of the ocean they sail in.

Your love matters. Your clarity matters.

Your refusal to give up on yourself—that matters.

So maybe the most honest prayer we can offer in this space is:

“Let me be at peace, even when I don’t have the power. Let me be loving, even when I can’t make it better. Let me live fully, even when they’re not okay.”

That’s not resignation.

That’s transformation.

And you’re not alone.