Good Mortals

Posted by fxckfeelings on April 15, 2013

Like a pain threshold, need to buy a Hank Williams record, and Jesus, a true appreciation of what’s important only seems to become clear when our lives seem most meaningless or most precious. When everything seems to be going wrong for yourself, or a loved one is going through his or her last days, you can feel like a helpless, frustrated loser, at least at first. Once you realize, however, that you’re just a human being who doesn’t have much control over the really bad things in life, you can stop feeling like a loser and start gaining perspective about what’s really important, like doing good and being good, with or without country music.
–Dr. Lastname

I am 40 years old and have gone from a size 4 to a size 14 in very little time. Basically, I love food and drink, but I also take spin classes three times a week. I feel like no one will ever love me for who I am “on the inside” now that I’ve gotten this big, especially because I didn’t have a boyfriend until I got skinny in college. I had been seeing a therapist for four years, but my limited funds have gotten in the way. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t think that to be loved meant to be thin. I want to convince myself that, like so many before me, being big doesn’t mean being unlovable, and to be ok with my weight, because I am beautiful with it (right?). How do I put my self-confidence out there again? I have a bunch of Percocets from a recent surgery, and while body image is not the only thing I struggle with, I think about those pills all the time. To date, they have been my medal of honor. They are here, and I am strong enough to leave them there, so far. Help.

It’s hard not to be lonely, dateless, and getting nowhere with diet and exercise, without feeling bad about your life. You feel ugly inside and out, in an ugly, unfair world, often from the vantage point of on an ugly, un-fun fake bike.

You want to empower yourself and you’re willing to work hard, but when nothing’s going your way, the confidence often just doesn’t come and the weight won’t go away. That doesn’t mean, however, that you’re a failure, or even that the world is quite as ugly as it seems.

It means you’re not lucky, at least not yet, even though you’re doing lots of good things to make your life better. You’re doing right by yourself, but as much as we all like to get inspired by stories of self-empowerment, the truth is, it has its limits.

The more we know about controlling weight and lifting mood, the more evidence we have that biologic forces working against us are often stronger than we are. If we can accept a lack of control and still keep plugging, however, that’s a beautiful thing.

Working with what you’ve got means accepting your size, shape, mood, and general bad luck and deciding what you want to do with yourself. Clearly, you like life and you’re ready to discipline yourself for the sake of a good cause, like your health. You care about relationships, living within your means, and upholding your own values, and these are all important things, way more important than dress size. That’s what you want to focus on: live up to your standards, and fuck attractiveness. Actually, the less you care about being attractive and ruminate on ugliness in general, the more attractive you will probably become.

Keep putting your values into action by doing a good job, being a good friend, and doing some good in the world. The negative feelings that come from bad luck will try to define you—the dates that don’t call, jobs you don’t get, weight you can’t get off—but don’t let them. Life sucks and it’s painful, but only most of the time. Otherwise, it’s filled with that good stuff you care about, so ignore the second-guessing and pain pills and keep doing what matters.

Remember, looking like a loser or feeling like a loser isn’t being a loser—if anything, it’s the opposite. When you look and feel like a loser and still act like a decent person who knows what she’s doing, you win, even if it’s an ugly fight.

STATEMENT:
“I feel lonely and fear I’ll never find someone who will love me for who I am, given my current looks, but I know what I’m after and I never stop trying. I won’t let loneliness or fear change what I respect about myself or define what it means to be successful.”

I never had an easy relationship with my father—he’s somewhat aloof and I’m someone who needs to connect—but, after some therapy, I decided I could get through to him if I let him know how angry I was and insisted we see a therapist together before we spent time hanging out. Not long after that, however, he got diagnosed with terminal, aggressive cancer, which turned everything upside down. I can’t stand to see him suffer and I’m afraid the stress I caused played some part in wearing down his immune system and getting him sick. I’m spending as much time as I can with him, because I’m not sure how much time he has left, but now we’ll never have that big father-son talk. He says he’s proud of me and appreciates my company and I believe him, but he doesn’t believe in dredging up the past so I’m not going to force him into any deep talks he doesn’t want. My goal is to resolve things as much as possible before he dies or I’m afraid I’ll always regret it.

Fearing that you’ll never connect with your father the way you always wanted to must be hard to bear, particularly when it turns out that you can’t, but failing to connect isn’t the same as a failure.

It must have been hard for you to confront the issue with him, even if what ensued stirred up trouble and got nowhere. Doing so proved that you weren’t a bigger failure than you thought or that you made him sick, just that the hurt in your relationship can’t be helped, even though you gave it your best. Your efforts may have caused pain, but they showed you care and they gave you valuable information, if only you can take away the positive lesson.

Cancer is also teaching you a positive lesson that you seem to have absorbed; you’ve discovered that spending time with your father and helping him when he’s sick is more important to you than straightening out the past kinks in your relationship. In spite of what you couldn’t get from him, you’re there, you’re kind, and you’re making a big difference. You’ve got your priorities straight, which is probably what happens to a lot of people when the end is near.

When you’re not thinking about death, you look for happiness, love, money, fulfilling work, and the respect of others and define success accordingly. When death becomes a real part of your life, however, you discover it’s more important just to act decently according to your own standards, because that’s what you respect most. Which is what you’re both doing, and it’s better late than never.

Your father obviously doesn’t blame you for having caused him stress—that’s part of being a father—and probably appreciates your love and helpfulness, and feels lucky to have you with him at the end of his life. You give his life meaning, as he does yours, regardless of the many loose ends and unspoken frustrations of your relationship.

So welcome the last lesson about life that you’re going to get from your father. No one is responsible for the pain in your relationship with him, it just couldn’t be resolved because it wasn’t in your power, and it’s not worth tackling now because, as you know so well, it’s not the best use of your limited time together. As he faces death, he knows he has a son who loves him and has the strength to be a good man, a good friend, and a good father. It doesn’t matter if you both die not knowing what went wrong back then, because now, when it really counts, you’re both doing it right.

STATEMENT:
“I feel my father is leaving this world with all our issues unresolved, but I have learned that there are many issues that can never be resolved and that there is more than enough love between us to let me support him and be the son I want to be.”