Double the Crazy/My Therapist, Myself

Posted by fxckfeelings on April 12, 2009

If last week started with 101 cases, this week begins with a few from the 201 level;  the first two are follow-ups to Thursday’s post about how to deal with crazy people, and the last case, about therapy itself, might seem a little too inside baseball at first glance, but it’s really about basic ways to evaluate whether or not therapy is worth it for you.  Especially if you’re not actually crazy.

Thanks for the letters, and please keep them coming.  Also, thanks to everyone for the nice tweets, and we’d respond personally more frequently were we not somewhat twittertarded.  Alas.
-Dr. Lastname

Follow-up to the crazy neighbor dilemma: If the sane party chooses to move, how will they be able to sell their house without lying about why they are moving? Will anyone buy their house if they say there is a vindictive crazy man next door who may fixate on your family? What are your thoughts?

While this query might have been submitted with a short, direct response in mind, I’m treating it as a full case as it brings up an interesting issue; what’s your goal if someone has you squeezed into a totally inescapable corner, like the crazy neighbor who terrorizes you if you stay in your home and prevents you from selling it and leaving?

You might think your goal is escape, but in reality, that’s more of a wish; sometimes you’re fucked, you can’t escape, and feeling you should will increase your helplessness and self-blame and make you do something stupid. Simply put, your goal is to accept that you’re fucked and keep trying to escape. Remember, this is not useful, solution-oriented advice– it’s advice about what to do when there are no solutions, which is what life’s toughest situations are all about. And those are the kind of situations that drive someone to pay lots of money to talk to someone like me.

If you don’t give up on your goal of solving things with your crazy neighbor, you’re more likely to confront him and get into even bigger trouble. If you accept the fact that you can’t stay and you may not be able to leave, you’ll keep your cool and keep on trying to do the right thing, which is avoid confrontation and calmly work towards removing yourself and your family from the situation.

As for your moral requirements when it comes to informing others about the risks of living in your house, don’t trust your feelings of guilt, because they’re just feelings, and some people feel guilty about breathing because it generates carbon monoxide and causes global warming. As such, fuck guilt, and instead use your own criteria for fairness based on what you would expect someone else to do for you if they were in your situation. Is it enough to put the responsibility on purchasers to ask why you’re leaving, or, if asked, to tell them you’ve got a conflict but that there are ways they might minimize it? And is it legitimate to keep your helpless feelings to yourself during this process while presenting the facts honestly, calmly, and without passion? Don’t straight-jacket yourself with a compulsively responsible need to disclose all your feelings and fears; do what you would expect an honest person to do for you in this situation.

Like every property owner, you need to accept the risk of total loss, whether from flood, fire, market downturns, or crazy neighbors, and not panic. Perhaps you can rent out your home, or reduce tension by moving away briefly. You may have to consider bankruptcy. Yes, it’s outrageously unfair that a crazy neighbor may cause so much harm (as opposed to receiving the same destruction at the hands of the flooding Mississippi), but stay away from your rage or that of your sympathetic friends. Life is outrageously unfair and it does no good to punish the source, whether it’s craziness or flood, because both are entirely natural and can be equally uncontrollable. Accept that and, if you decide to sell the house, let your moral standards, not your feelings, be your guide.

STATEMENT:
Here’s a statement you might use to delimit your responsibility. “I’m in a fucked-up jam. I can’t protect my family if we stay and we may not be able to leave without going bankrupt. But this horrible situation has nothing to do with me or my family, and we’ve been doing a great job trying to cope with it and not make it worse. Whatever happens, and regardless of how badly things turn out, this is what we will continue to do and it will be the only measure of our success.”

My roommate resigned a lease with me, and then decided to back out of it. She didn’t talk to me directly, but had her sister come over and tell me that she was leaving and wanted to break the lease.  At that point, I was happy to live alone, but the landlord’s an asshole and won’t take her name off the lease for any reason.  Great.  So after she’s gone for about a week, I come home and all the food is gone, as are her pots and pans, but nothing else, so it all seems weird.  I call her sister, asking if everything’s okay, and she tells me my ex?-roommate is apparently having a…paranoid breakdown? Or something?  She thinks I’m plotting against her, stealing her stuff, and that there are people watching her.  I probably should have seen this coming–she moved in with me after a year of living in a tent in the desert, all with the intention of escaping an abusive husband.  But still.  I’m working on trying to not feel totally unsafe in this place with my maybe-she-won’t-be-back-again roommate, who’s a little crazy, and thinks I’m “plotting against her.”  Or talking about her to random people on the internet…which I give her props for. I totally am.

The logistics here are a little muddled, but the basic question seems to be thus;  what do you do when you’re dying to get rid of an insane, scary, deadbeat roommate but you also remember her as a likable human being and would rather help her than kick her when she’s down?  This is, of course, a perfect case because it’s not solvable, so what you don’t do is try to solve it, as that will only make it worse.  That said, there are positive steps you can take.

You can manage it in pieces, beginning, as always, with the issue of safety.  Your first goal is to figure out whether you’re safe with Lady Paranoia in the house and, if not, to get her locked up, locked out, or, if that’s not possible, to get away yourself until things blow over.  And I’m not talking about whether you feel safe, because squeamish feelings are not a good guide unless they’re backed by facts.  Put aside fear and assess your safety on the basis of facts such as whether she’s ever been violent, or lights fires, or collects guns or swords, or has ever mentioned, say, wanting to murder you.  If she’s said or done things that will persuade even the most oblivious individual that there’s a real, immediate risk of harm, then you (or preferably her sister or the cops) should try to get her at least a few days of involuntary treatment behind a locked hospital door.

On the other hand, the good news is, most mentally ill people who are paranoid are not dangerous, so don’t let the jargon throw you off.  There isn’t a lot of solid information out there about mental illness, and the stereotypes you see on TV of knife-wielding psychos and delusional-yet-gifted musicians don’t accurately represent the majority (or even a sizable minority) of the mentally ill.  So unless she’s said or done something explicitly threatening, you’re probably safe.

The bad news, however, is the paranoid mentally ill can be very resistant to accepting help;  even if somebody has maintained enough clarity to recognize they’re mind isn’t working well, nobody wants to admit that they’re crazy.  Even if they accept the help, it often doesn’t work, and trying to persuade them to see things differently will often make them worse.  So, the saddest fact you may have to accept is that you may not be able to protect her from becoming homeless.  Which is why you have to focus on basic needs like your own well-being and the status of your lease.

In short, fuck your guilty and protective feelings.  Help her if there’s a rational way to do so, but remember, you can probably do little to protect her and you’ve also got a responsibility to protect your own safety and finances.  Once you’ve completed a rational, business-like risk-benefit analysis of what you can and can’t do, try preparing a statement of purpose, mainly directed at your own feelings.

STATEMENT:
I’ll help my roommate if it’s likely to do some good, despite her resistance to being helped, legal obstacles to her getting help, her negative response to our relationship, and my inability to provide her with free shelter.  There’s no way she can stay here because (circle whatever is true) it won’t help her in the long run / it will put both of us at higher risk / I can’t afford it /  it’s not my responsibility.  But I’ll help her find alternatives by talking with her sister and public officials.  If she or others think I’ve been mean or uncaring or unhelpful, I’ll know better, not argue with them, and continue to do what I can.

My problem is that I am struggling against some unexpected and unwelcomed feelings of transference towards my therapist. I’m feeling the (non-erotic, thank f*ck) love towards my therapist, and seem to be feeling the love back from this person. My rational brain is very aware that this person is not a friend, not my mother, not a partner in a real relationship, never could be, blah blah blah.  Still, I am totally confused as to what the relationship is, what I can get from it, and if any of it is real or if it is all just a complete figment of my imagination blah, blah, blah. My goal is to get the absolute most out of the therapeutic relationship and to help myself to live the best life I can possibly lead. I would like to know how to stop unwanted feelings such as missing my therapist from happening as it just f*cks my head and is painful!

Don’t get distracted by your feelings before you consider what you’re paying the therapist to do for you.  If you’re hiring a therapist to give you a positive feeling of self-esteem, then yes, a friendly therapist whom you really hit it off with will leave you with a good feeling, and that may be what you’re paying for, and it may be worthwhile, particularly if you’re lonely and haven’t yet found a good friend.  There’s nothing wrong with hiring a friendship-worker.

But the best friendship-worker is not the one who leaves you feeling good at the end of the hour by persuading you that s/he would care just as much about you if you weren’t paying.  It’s the one who helps you use your friendship-building skills and confidence to find a non-professional friend and close out your treatment—and its expense—as soon as possible.  So your goal isn’t to find out if s/he really cares, but to use the ego boost of a positive relationship to find someone else who cares and whom you can pay in returned friendship, rather than cash, check, or third party payments.

Whatever your wishes, don’t try to convert a therapist into a personal friend or lover.  Love, whether it’s inspired by sex, beauty, or wisdom, starts out blind, so, regardless of how good the personal chemistry, you probably don’t know that much about the therapist’s ability to be a true friend, or what s/he truly cares about and needs, or how s/he handles moments of crankiness or GI distress.  You’ll lose the benefits of whatever professional services you’re receiving;  a good example of what you want not being the same as what you need.

If you’re hoping that figuring out your complicated feelings for your therapist will give you insight or help in dealing with complicated feelings you have for other people, then watch out!  More often than not, in real life, you try to figure out your feelings because you want to change them and make an important relationship better when, in reality, it’s not in your power, but you’re not willing to accept it.  So you keep asking why and ruminating and driving your friends (and therapists) to glance surreptitiously at their watches and/or email.  It may feel good to have those conversations, but they won’t carry you forward or do more good than provide temporary relief (to you–  temporary aggravation to all those in earshot).

Sometimes, of course, figuring out complicated feelings can do you some good, so watch what happens to you carefully and don’t be overly influenced by whether you find the treatment pleasant, intriguing, or painful.  Remember, those are feelings, which are to be fucked.  Consult your original goals and ask yourself whether figuring out your feelings for the therapist is making you act more effectively.  If you or anyone else thinks that you’re getting stronger, then you’re getting your fucking money’s worth.  Just remember, real friends don’t have a co-pay.

STATEMENT:
Compose a Business Plan Statement before you commit your resources to therapy, as a way of reminding yourself what you’re spending your money for, and protecting yourself from over-reacting to feelings and getting sucked into the clinical equivalent of seeing your hairdresser.  “Whether I’m lonely, in pain, or trapped in a painful situation, the value I want from therapy is not a good feeling, but a way of getting stronger at managing pain and dealing with life.”