From Taylor’s point of view, saving Kelly is worth it. Saving Kelly is worth it even if it means Taylor goes under. From Taylor’s point of view, the options have always been “help save Kelly, or watch Kelly drown.”
But this frame is broken. At this point, it’s clear that “help save Kelly” is not a real option. It’s a fabrication, conjured up because it is deeply uncomfortable to face the real choice, which is “let Kelly drown, or drown with them.”
(Alternately, and a little less harshly: “let Kelly figure out how to swim on their own, or keep trying to help them and drown, yourself, without actually having helped them float.”)
I’ve been a Taylor, and yes, that’s exactly the right way of describing the relevant headspace and the perceived/actual options.
I remember even explicitly thinking of it in almost the exact same terms during the experience itself: knowing that saving the other person felt close to hopeless, but that the option of leaving them to drown was one that I just couldn’t take, so it almost didn’t matter how low-probability the chance of keeping them afloat fell. At some point I had a strong sense that I would look at this episode later and conclude that trying to keep them afloat was a mistake, but even when knowing that, I still couldn’t let go.
In my case I was lucky enough that the other person’s behavior eventually (over a period of a couple of years) became so extreme as to make it impossible to hold onto the slightest chance of even “save this person by going under yourself” being possible. And even then, taking the option that involved the other person maybe-drowning when left on their own… I still had to desperately focus on the fact that our interaction was making the other person worse, and that this way they might in theory have some actual chance of making it, that I was able to take the option of letting go.
(Fortunately they didn’t kill themselves or otherwise fail to make it in the end, as I had feared they would, so in that regard things turned out fine.)
I’ve been a Taylor, and yes, that’s exactly the right way of describing the relevant headspace and the perceived/actual options.
I remember even explicitly thinking of it in almost the exact same terms during the experience itself: knowing that saving the other person felt close to hopeless, but that the option of leaving them to drown was one that I just couldn’t take, so it almost didn’t matter how low-probability the chance of keeping them afloat fell. At some point I had a strong sense that I would look at this episode later and conclude that trying to keep them afloat was a mistake, but even when knowing that, I still couldn’t let go.
In my case I was lucky enough that the other person’s behavior eventually (over a period of a couple of years) became so extreme as to make it impossible to hold onto the slightest chance of even “save this person by going under yourself” being possible. And even then, taking the option that involved the other person maybe-drowning when left on their own… I still had to desperately focus on the fact that our interaction was making the other person worse, and that this way they might in theory have some actual chance of making it, that I was able to take the option of letting go.
(Fortunately they didn’t kill themselves or otherwise fail to make it in the end, as I had feared they would, so in that regard things turned out fine.)