Unhealthy Obsession

Posted by fxckfeelings on October 26, 2009

Like the injured gazelle at the watering hole, human beings also have an instinct to conceal their weakened status; often, our worst fear isn’t being set upon by unknown predators, but by those close to us, who will be disappointed when our wounds impair our usual performance. Even a gazelle, however, would realize that, when wounded, putting pride and other people’s needs first is ridiculous.
–Dr. Lastname

I’m an early middle-aged woman, lucky enough to have the problems that come with getting saner and older. I grew up in one of those sad alcoholic homes from which I never gave up working to extricate myself. I screwed life up at first but have been recovered from alcoholism over twenty years, similarly recovered from eating disorders (bulimia, anorexia, binge eating), returned to the school I had ditched to finally graduate with honors, kept jobs (now retired) and, a real miracle, I have been married to a terrific guy in my sobriety and am (for real) happily married. I have solid loving friends. I’ve seen therapists for the depression, which intermittently interferes but even found a half-assed but useful medication. A good life…except for the real problems that come with age. That wonderful husband has a couple of chronic diseases, my best friend died of the cancer I survived, and everyone is dead in my small original family. I am experiencing that trapped childhood feeling of being in a world in which I am helpless and those I love are hopeless and going away. I realize I must just feel the hurt and keep on anyway, but I am tired, and my stamina is more fragile now. I disappoint those I love and make mistakes more. Goal in writing you: To get a better grip on myself and accept more deeply that I cannot change the pain of life. I would like to not keep blaming myself, a old bad habit that lingers. Sorry I’ve gone on so long but I guess I wanted to show that I have really tried to help others and myself even if I’m whining now.

You see your goal as rising above the pain of aging, but you can’t fool me (remember, I went to Harvard): your deeper goal is to help people, to the point that their aging has worn you down and caused you to forget that you have other goals. For example, not getting worn down unless it’s really necessary.

So it’s not aging that’s your problem, but what aging has done to your ability to help others while keeping your priorities straight. That’s what I think is causing you the most grief. After all, if you were old but weren’t as responsive to the needs of others, all you’d have to worry about is your bad back and Tivo’ing NCIS.

On top of ascertaining your real goal, I can also guess you’re not from Samaria, so you don’t have a Samaritan license (funny, you don’t look Samaritan). That’s the first thing that’s wrong with your initial goal—wanting too much to help others.

Second, helping others feels good, so you know it’s got to be bad. Third, it makes you feel less guilty (even though you did no wrong in the first place) which is the same as two.

Fourth, it elbows out your other responsibilities, like enjoying your few remaining days and being nice to your not-yet-dying friends. Fifth, it makes you tired, depleted, and depressed and in need of my services…actually pretend I didn’t say that, because I need the work, but finally,

Finally, six, it will make nice people hate you because they have to be needy and dying to get your full attention. Again, this wish doesn’t discriminate based on age.

You and I know what’s wrong with very nice, recovered alcoholics: they’re addicted to helping others. So your goal isn’t to help others; it’s to ration your help so you have time and energy for equally legitimate and necessary priorities, like making a living, being a good friend to those who can give as well as take, and feeding your own soul.

Yes, you carry sadness and are surrounded by it, but the more you focus on it, the more helpless you’ll feel, which will make you sadder, until you’re stuck in a pit.

So accept the sadness, as you do, and start over. You’re fucked, your husband is fucked, and, as the old Spiritual says, “all God’s children be fucked.” Hallelujah. Both your sadness and his illness, however, haven’t stopped you from caring for one another and making one another’s lives richer.

Indeed, your sadness has probably made you a better writer and more empathic friend, and your ability to manage depression, alcoholism, and an eating disorder has given you strength that I’m sure has benefited others.

I’m not saying you’re lucky—that’s bullshit—but stop focusing on your inability to make sadness and loss go away, and instead on what you’ve done with it, and be proud. Be proud of being unlucky and not letting it stop you, turn you inwards, prevent you from using your gifts, cripple your friendships, or inhibit you from taking risks.

You feel like shit, but it’s just a feeling. Your actions are a triumph and that’s what you should be reminding yourself. Now stop whining and be proud.

STATEMENT:
Prepare a statement to block off the helpless misery of your meditations on loss. “My life has included more than its share of pain, loss, and out-of-control behavior and I’ve been sensitized to seeing the sad side of life. But I have been unusually good at living a full life in spite of my feelings, gaining control over my behaviors, and turning into a good person who gives courage to others. That was always my goal and that’s what I’m doing. I’m not really helpless at all.”

Recently, I suffered a health setback and I don’t know whether I’ll ever get better. Without getting specific, I have physical problems that are hard to talk about with anyone but my closest friends, but they slow me down and I don’t get as much done as I used to, either at work or home. I’m in my 40s, and I’ve always been active, productive, and social, so most people don’t know what to make of the change in my behavior. The real issue that’s come up involves my work, because my boss will notice, sooner or later, that I’ve taken a lot of sick days and that I’m not getting as much done. I believe in your philosophy of living by your own standards and not depending on what others think of you, and I’m worried, in any case, by how he’d respond, so my goal is to keep quiet about my illness and respect myself regardless of his questions or criticism.

There’s enough unavoidable pain in life so that you don’t have to embrace additional pain in order to build your pride. This includes the pain whose nature we dare not speak.

Besides, you have other priorities than proving your toughness to yourself, like making a living, taking care of people who depend on you, and making your relationships no more difficult than they have to be.

Pride in your toughness is unaffordable; instead, embrace shame, and be proud that you can.

Having an incurable condition brings out the worst in people if you’re not careful, and sometimes it brings out the worst when you are. Your wife and kids (and boss) will try hard to get you back to your usual, happy self, and then wonder where they, and you, have failed.

An incurable condition will tend to make you grumpy and depressed, and they’ll blame your negativity, not your pain, for making you sick and them miserable.

Your boss, if he notices a change, will launch into his usual executive procedures for establishing accountability, restoring motivation, and developing an explanation that will satisfy his boss that the problem is under control. If you don’t give him an explanation, he’ll assume he’s running into psychological resistance, try harder, piss you off, get a more negative response, and so on.

So watch out. You’ve got an incurable condition—”fucked” is the medical term—and you’ll be double-fucked if you don’t counteract the negative impact it will have on your relationships.

If the details of your illness are private, that’s fine, but the fact that you’re ill, especially if it affects your performance, isn’t something you can afford to hide from your employer if you want to stay in his employ. Speak up, and respect yourself for doing so, not in spite of it.

STATEMENT:
Write a statement to shield yourself from the expectations of others (and yourself). “I’ve got a condition that I’m working on with my doctor and the good news is that it won’t kill me, but the bad news is that it’s painful and makes it harder for me to get my work done and be as energetic and social as I used to be. So I need to prioritize carefully, while I try to keep the pain managed. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you think I’m falling behind in any major way. My feelings won’t be hurt, and it will help me adjust my priorities and be as effective as possible.”