Low Fidelity

Posted by fxckfeelings on October 24, 2011

We’ve talked before about the myth of “help;” how applying the mantra “you need help” to everyone and anyone with problems isn’t always the right thing, whether you’re on the giving or receiving end of this recommendation. After all, just because someone begs you to get help doesn’t mean that you need it, and just because someone begs you for help doesn’t mean it will do them any good or be worth it. Forget feelings of disloyalty, use your own judgment, and remember, most of the time, the most helpful response to people who want you to be involved in help-giving or help-taking is to let them know when help isn’t the answer.
–Dr. Lastname

I’m a 22-year-old who is coming out of a pretty rough emotional patch. I got into a bad habit of leaning on a male friend, being a complete needy, co-dependent mess with a guy who is a pretty heavy drinker and, you guessed it, a needy, co-dependent mess. Well. Now I’ve sobered up and tried to develop some space between us, and he’s not taking it well. He drunk-dials me at least once a week, and leaves these crazy, rambling, needy voicemails. (I moved away a while back, and he keeps pushing me to make plans to meet up.) I basically want to cut him out of my life altogether, because I really think he’s bad for me. But he was there for me—albeit in a f*cked up way—when I was a mess. Does dropping him make me a bitch?

There are two sides to every sin; for example, murder is evil while manslaughter is just really unfortunate. The same is true for good deeds, and fidelity, while less deadly (hopefully), works much the same way.

There’s a bad kind of fidelity based on feelings and a good one based on what you think is right. The bad one is a gut-level sense of obligation you feel towards anyone you’ve shared a bed or bread or booze with, who cries out to you in need and expects you to respond.

It’s some kind of basic nervous system bonding that disregards whether you’ve already done your share, whether the other guy can actually make use of your help (or will just need more and more), or whether you have a right to weigh his needs against other priorities, like finding a relationship with a guy who can occasionally walk in a straight line.

Now, if you were judging the conduct of a friend, you’d probably say that you’ve done all you can, but until he stops drinking, you can’t offer much more. He may see you as dumping him, but what you’re dumping is not him, but his alcoholism. You might like him better if he got a grip and got sober, but you won’t know unless he does.

However, since you’re not using the rational side of your mind, leaving him makes you feel like a bitch and you need someone to tell you you’re not. Instead, you’re getting someone who will tell you to think for yourself.

Don’t ask anyone else for that kind of reassurance, not even (or especially) over the internet. Learn to give it to yourself, because your values are fine. You could confidently advise a friend, so stand by what you know and give yourself the same advice you would give anyone else.

Yes, you’ll still feel like a bitch because feelings are feelings. If your goal is not to feel guilty, have a drink (which will eventually make you feel even more guilty, so you see our point).

On the other hand, if your goal is to be your own woman and give yourself the right to weigh moral priorities without having to please or appease, then suck it up and do what you think is right. Until he stops drinking, he’s dead weight to you, so drop away. If he picks himself up, then you can, too.

STATEMENT:
“I hate to feel like I’m causing pain to someone who has been good to me, but I’m tired of being manipulated by guilt and other people’s needs and I have a right to say “enough” when I’ve done my share and want to move on. I’ve learned how to stop drinking and I’m ready for the next level of sobriety, which is to tolerate the guilt of feeling responsible without giving into it.”

My mood is never great, but I’ve survived divorce (my wife decided she liked someone else) and been a responsible dad and I was looking forward to being a grandfather when my middle son, who’s never been too happy, told me our relationship sucked and he didn’t have much hope for it unless I went into therapy. He had some names of spiritual therapists and told me, if I was really serious about making our relationship better and becoming a good grandfather, I should see them. Of course, I’d do anything for our relationship, but this whole thing makes me feel depressed and paralyzed. What should I do if my goal is to hang on to my son?

Kids come first, but that doesn’t justify turning off your own judgment. Which is what you did the minute you heard the words “spiritual therapists” and didn’t giggle out loud.

You don’t have to read my advice (though it helps) to know that you’re not supposed to accept criticism uncritically; otherwise you’re handing out keys to your self-esteem to every overbearing and unhappy jackass you meet, whether or not they’re your spawn. You’re supposed to consider accusations carefully and decide for yourself whether there’s really something you could have and should have done better before deciding whether to apologize and take responsibility for doing better.

What may have hurt your son is something you don’t control, and that includes the personality that the good lord gave you. He may have grown up happier with another dad, but you may have been happier with another son, and we all might be happier with a prehensile tail. Too bad, life is hard, and the only question to ask yourself is whether you managed your faults as well as you could and took care of your son’s basic needs, including safety.

Let’s assume that, after considering his criticism, there’s something you want to improve. Then choose someone who you think can help you do the job; don’t accept your son’s recommendation because you want to please him or prove something, but because you think it’s a good idea.

Regardless of what you decide, there’s a lesson you can teach your son. It’s not just that you’re flexible or that, no matter what he thinks, you really love him; it’s that you have confidence in your love for him, regardless of what he thinks, and that you can have a positive relationship in spite of obvious and painful flaws that you would gladly remove if you could, but can’t. He can call it spiritual if he wants, but you’re calling it like it is.

STATEMENT:
“Nothing makes me feel more like a loser than having my kid tell me I was a bad dad, but I know I wasn’t that bad (I got better reviews from the other kids) and I’m not bad now. I’ll accept responsibility for mistakes I control; for the rest of it, I love him and think our lives will be better if we have a relationship, even if it requires us to bear some pain. The choice is his.”