Posted by fxckfeelings on September 10, 2009
No matter what your illness, medication should never be your first option for treatment. Everything you put in your mouth, from aspirin to spinach, has risks attached, so you should always proceed with caution before you add chemicals to the mix. Then, once on medication, most people are eager to get off it as soon as possible, but that has its own set of risks, as well. If you make your health the first priority, then the choice of whether or not to medicate won’t become risk-free, but it will become clear.
–Dr. Lastname
Before I got treated for depression, my marriage was rocky, but not doomed. I would be irritable and lethargic, which was tough for my husband to deal with, but mostly he was concerned and caring, and he was glad when I decided to get help. Now I’m taking medication, which has helped a lot in stabilizing my moods and keeping the black clouds away. The downside is that my meds have also, surprise, made my sex drive disappear, and this is doing way more harm to my marriage than my depression ever did. My husband isn’t a creep—he’s put up with a lot, and has always been supportive—but I can tell that there’s a distance growing between us. It’s different now that I’m the same old me but not interested in him physically, as opposed to a crying mess who wasn’t interested in him but also couldn’t get dressed in the morning. Is there anyway to not be depressed and not be libido-less? My goal is for both me and my marriage to be healthy.
Equating a happy marriage with a lusty sex life (as does every magazine in the supermarket checkout line) is dangerous, because it directly links the state of your union to something you don’t actually control.
If you could control it, you wouldn’t be writing to me in the first place. More than that, the fact that there are so many sex therapists should tell you how limited your control is (as is theirs).
That’s what the word therapy means in ancient Urdu: doing something that may or may not help for a problem you don’t control but think you should. And if therapy fails, then you’ve got a bad marriage because you’re libido-deficient.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on August 31, 2009
We’ve devoted a lot of column space to the issue of helping people help people—how to, when to, who to, etc—mostly involving cases of loved ones and addiction. Ironically, helping those who aren’t very close to us with less severe problems is often much more complicated. The key is finding a balance between helping your fellow man and not screwing yourself.
–Dr. Lastname
My son just started school, and I’ve become friends with his best friend’s mother. She’s a very nice, cool person, but I’ve gone shopping with her a bunch of times now—at the mall, at Costco—and I’m almost 100% sure that she’s a serial shoplifter. The first time it happened, I genuinely believed that she just forgot to pay for the sweater she’d put over the handle of her younger daughter’s stroller, fair enough. But then at a mall I saw her use the same stroller to steal again, arguing with a manager over a shirt with a missing button while she walked out with a $100 pair of shoes. It’s weird, because every time we walk out of the store, she’ll be like, oh, I forgot to pay for those shoes, I’m too embarrassed to go back now, which is getting really hard to believe now that she’s done it over and over again. Part of me worries that she might be a little nuts and it worries me to have her watch my son when he goes over to her house to play with his friend. But mostly I think she just has a problem, like smoking or something, but one that could get her into a lot of trouble very quickly, and if I could just talk to her about it as a friend, I might be able to help her. My goal is to do what I can to keep my new friend, and keep her out of trouble.
There’s one part that always gets left out of the Biblical story of the Good Samaritan– Risk Assessment.
There’s no arguing that it’s good to help people, but, since it feels good to help people, you know there’s a down side, and that down side is that it’s sometimes dangerous. After all, any good lawyer would tell you that if Jesus had lived longer, he would have gotten himself sued.
Your first job, as a responsible person and mother, is to assess the risk of being helpful by guessing, from her past behavior, whether your friend is likely to turn on you and rip out your guts. Remember, some people with destructive habits are sharks; they’re angry, very sensitive to having their weaknesses exposed or criticized, and will respond to your kindness by swearing a blood feud.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on August 27, 2009
There are some people who, no matter how talented and smart they are in some areas of life, are totally oblivious to their own flaws and, despite their intelligence, are world class fuck-ups (some of them even went to Harvard). In reality, being a fuck-up is a lot like being a psychopath; if you’ve seriously considered whether or not you’re a fuck-up, you probably aren’t one.
–Dr. Lastname
When I met my husband, he was a confident, bright, accomplished guy; he was top of his class, recruited to his firm at a high salary with a great contract, hard working, and all signs pointed to someone who would never have a problem making a living. Over ten years into our marriage, however, I’m seeing a different picture and I just don’t get it. This gifted, bright man is also stubborn as a mule and a lousy listener. I could see he was getting into trouble with his boss at work and I tried to help him, but he wouldn’t listen. Then, when he lost his job, he had big ideas about what he was going to do next, but he wound up finding nothing, and when I urged him to see a job counselor and keep busy doing other things at home, he wouldn’t listen. What I see is a guy who checks the job listings for half an hour every day, fills in a few applications on-line, and then gets obsessed with a computer project like synchronizing a new day planner. We’ve got a kid, we’re out of money, he hasn’t worked in over a year, I’m the only bread-winner, and I can’t get over how angry I am. How can I get him to see that he needs to change his tactics, particularly when I can hardly speak to him without ripping off his balls? Would couples therapy help me get through to him?
I wish I could tell you that your husband’s foot-dragging is caused by anger or fear about you or his parents, or having to be a grown-up, or past sexual trauma, etc., because then a good talk with you and/or a therapist could help him get over his negative feelings and move on with his life. But the odds are that it’s not pent-up feelings; it’s the way he is, and, if that’s the case, therapy of any kind isn’t going to change him, let alone get him employed.
I know, it’s hard to imagine how a sincere, gifted, accomplished guy can become so ineffective…at least at first. But it’s not hard to understand if you watch how people think and learn as they get older.
You’ve probably known a couple people who were brilliant in school but didn’t do well in their careers because they lacked a certain common sense, ability to get along with others, or organizational skills. Many people, of course, have weaknesses like these and learn how to manage them.
Some people, however, are not so fortunate. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on August 20, 2009
We teach children that lying is bad, period. As adults, we agree with that statement, but can find any number of reasons why our own lies should be considered an exception. Bad or not, lies will, more often then not, get you into trouble, so you have to weigh the pros and cons of each piece of bullshit before you unleash it. If you think your lie is justified because of unfairness, or if you just lie out of habit despite your better judgment—if you’re so full of bullshit you need a bib before you speak—then you should stop looking for excuses and learn to shut your mouth.
–Dr. Lastname
I’m a landscape designer, and I’ve just spent 6 months living in planning hell with a pretty difficult client. We had different visions from the start, but he insisted I was the man for the job, even though we differed on every decision, every step of the way. And really, I was willing to put up with it if it meant getting to do the grounds (you heard me) on this guy’s country estate, which was an extensive project that would’ve paid a ton and given me the chance to do something spectacular that could gain me a national reputation. Finally, we agreed to some blue prints, which he paid for…right before firing me. Now, I know that he paid for the plans and they’re technically his, but the thing is, I put half a year into putting this project together—and turned down a lot of other work because I thought I’d need the time to make it happen—and if he’s going to screw me over like this, I feel like he deserves to get screwed over right back. He’s called asking for the plans, and I keep making excuses as to why I can’t give them to him, but he keeps pushing, and now I’m stuck. Should I tell him the truth, that he’ll get those plans over my dead body, or should I relent and give him the plans along with a piece of my mind? I know you dismiss the notion of justice, but this is my livelihood, and my goal is to get what’s owed me.
Cases like this are the reason you have ethical rules, so you’ll do what you think is right, regardless of provocations by the egregious assholes who are drawn to be your clients. Lucky for you, you at least acknowledge this is a dilemma, instead of feeling entitled to a landscaper jihad, so there’s hope for you yet.
Look, if you’re in the landscape designing business, most of your clients are richer than you are. Just on a practical level for your quest, that means they can higher bigger lawyers and fund battles that can outlast any puny resources you can haul out of your pockets.
Being rich also brings out the inner asshole, so your profession will naturally attract more of them than a Crane’s white porcelain standard edition. So if you feel that war is your calling, drop this business and go carve out runways and golf courses for a tour at Fallujah.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on August 10, 2009
Some people find themselves suddenly, inexplicably cursed by a life of hardship and pain, while others cruise through a blessed existence of acclaim and luck. Truth is, of course, that the person in pain isn’t doomed to constant misery, and lucks brings its own peculiar, unavoidable hardship; thankfully, everyone of us, in one way or another, is fucked. It’s where we go from there that makes the difference.
–Dr. Lastname
Just a few years ago, in my early 20s, I was a fun, outgoing law student at a top tier school, on the cusp of beginning a promising career in a competitive field that I loved. But then, out of no where, my health fell apart. Without getting into it, I was diagnosed with a rare, chronic disease that causes me so much pain and fatigue that even the simplest tasks have become arduous. I had to drop out of school, move back home, and learn to deal, not just with the physical pain of everyday life, but with feelings of failure and being a complete loser. All my old friends are moving upwards and onwards, like I was once set to do, and all I can do is take it slow and try to cope with this new, brutal reality. Plus, because my disease is rare and not physically obvious (I look healthy), several friends and even family members have decided that I’m not sick, but that I just buckled under the competitive pressure of my law career or that I’m just lazy, and am using a fake disease as an excuse. They say things like, “my joints hurt, but I go to work everyday,” and I just want to curl up and die. Between my own disappointment and their cruel judgment, I’ve withdrawn from social interaction almost completely for a year now. My goal is to not completely isolate myself from the world and maybe even start to enjoy some social interaction again despite feeling self-conscious and experiencing such dismissive attitudes from others.
It’s good that you want to get out of your self-imposed solitary confinement—living like that’s unhealthy, even for people who are physically healthy to begin with—but attaching the enjoyment of social interaction onto your goal is not so hot, especially when you’re suffering from a disease that seems to make enjoying anything nearly impossible and gives prospective friends a case of the repulsive willies.
Problem is, despite your best efforts, enjoyment is out of your control, and if you make a big effort to extend yourself socially and run into crap, you’ll feel like a stupid failure and personally rejected, when, really, it’s your standards that are the problem. Yours and everyone else’s.
A better goal is to work at not taking your pain and isolation personally while working out rational standards for what it means to cope with them.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on August 3, 2009
Like almost every useful treatment, medical or otherwise, psychotherapy can be dangerous, particularly when you rely on your (say it with me now) feelings to decide whether or not to continue. Ironically, feeling good is one of the worst reasons to stay with therapy, and feeling crappy is one of the worst reasons to end it.
–Dr. Lastname
My therapist is about to depart on vacation for one month, and I’m feeling f*cking nervous and tense about it. I’d like to know what I can do to make the best of this break in therapy and come back refreshed and ready to start work again when my therapist returns, and also how to keep the unpleasant feelings of missing her to a minimum.
Congratulations! While your question seems like a short-and-sweet query (or maybe a chance to cheat on the classic back-to-school essay, “What I did on my therapist’s summer vacation”) it’s actually a perfect example of the dangers of focusing too much on feelings when you’re undergoing psychotherapy. A+
Look, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying therapy, experiencing emotional relief or a feeling of personal growth, or liking or missing your therapist. Just remember—you’re paying for this and should never forget what you’re getting it for. Or you’ll be sorry.
If you rely on your feelings to tell you whether to continue therapy, you may never have reason to stop. You may continue to like your therapist, find the subject interesting, learn something new, and feel the treatment supports you in a way nothing and no one else does.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on July 20, 2009
Lots of men may be drawn to long legs and big boobs, but there’s nothing sexier to most guys than a severely unstable female. You can marry these women or try to help them, as the people in these cases have tried to do, but when it comes to semi-sane drama queens, there’s only one good bit of advice: run for your life.
–Dr. Lastname
My mother was crazy (bipolar or schizo, it was never clear), and as her youngest, I was the one who took care of her and eventually found a way to get her into the hospital where the state took care of her until she died. I was a crazy kid, but not technically crazy like my mom—I drank too much, got high a lot (too much), crashed a car or two. I met a girl who was crazier even than me, she got pregnant, and so we got clean together to start our family. I’ve stayed clean, but the mother of my kids—now my ex-wife—didn’t. She held it together when she was pregnant all four times, but otherwise, she’d fall off, and now that she and I are finally through, I’ve got the kids and she’s got a nasty drug problem which she funds through alimony, boyfriends, and money she wins from taking me to court for one bullshit reason or another. As for the kids, one has gone through rehab, one is a mom at 18, one’s on tons of medication, and one was killed earlier this year when he was driving drunk. This is a long way of asking a simple question: what the fuck is wrong with me, after the way I was raised, that I can’t stay away from crazy women? Now I’ve passed this curse on to my kids, and now one of them has died because he was unlucky enough to be born to a former-drug addict and a current psychotic crack whore. My goal is to get crazy out of my life for good.
It doesn’t take a Harvard degree (or two) or even a passing familiarity with Sigmund Freud to know that you tend to feel attracted by people who are like your parents, whether you like your parents or not, whether your parents were certifiable or not.
If you expect that feeling to go away, and meanwhile keep dating the people you feel like dating, you’ll keep on getting into trouble, because, surprise, that feeling doesn’t usually go away. And don’t expect therapy to take it away, either.
Like it or not, that feeling—that attraction—is stronger than whatever most therapists have to offer, so if your goal is to stop wanting crazy, forget it. You’re crazy for thinking you can help yourself. (That sounds like it might make a good country-and-western lament).
You’re right to think about the kids, but wrong to think about what your crazy-loving has done to them. The past is past and remorse will do no more than get in your way now. Instead, you should be thinking about how to help them handle their own crazy-loving urges.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on July 13, 2009
This post might not be for the faint of heart, but then again, life rarely is. After all, shit is inescapable, not just as metaphor but as reality, thus, it’s worth exploring those issues that deal not just with emotional crap, but with crap, period. Here at fxckfeelings.com, we take your shit seriously. Literally.
–Dr. Lastname
OK, I’m having an issue with a guy at work, and it’s pretty gross, but it’s also driving me crazy and nobody will take me seriously. I can’t say exactly where I work, but it’s the kind of bureaucratic place where nobody ever gets fired. Like you’d have to murder someone in the office, and even then, vacation without pay. This guy recently got kicked down to my office, which is pretty small and windowless (it’s a filing sort of thing), and I’m not sure what landed him here—he’s nice enough, although he’s a little creepy around girls—but all I do know is that he farts. All the time. And I know, it’s funny, ha ha, but it’s not funny when you have to spend all day with him and he occasionally bends over to file something and lets one rip in your fucking face. Normally, I’d just bust his balls about it, but he has zero sense of humor, and I think he’d just stare at his feet and say nothing and avoid me in the future. Which would be great, except our desks are right next to one another. My boss thinks it’s a joke and told me to deal with it. But it’s not a joke, it’s fucking gross, and working with him makes my sick, literally. So my goal is to get someone to take me seriously and help me deal with this guy.
Congratulations! You’ve come to the right doctor because, while I rarely care about your feelings, I always take farts seriously. After all, is it possible to feel happy without happy bowels? Of course not.
I’ve often theorized, (if not in scientific meetings, at least at family get-togethers), that farts were the first form of pheromonic communication, before people learned to lie by making sounds with their vocal cords. After all, while assholes often lie, farts do not.
Then the brain routes their message directly to the amygdala, (I’m sure that’s what brain imagists will discover, when they do the necessary experiments), which is, on the higher level, very similar to what happens when you touch a hot skillet and jump back before you realize what’s happened.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on July 9, 2009
A lot is made of the importance of having high self-esteem, but as I’ve said before, I think the opposite is true; the world suffers much more from people who have excessive self-esteem than from those who have too little, and those people make life hell for the rest of us. For those of us who occasionally question ourselves, the answer isn’t an infusion of more self-esteem, but learning to manage that self-doubt.
–Dr. Lastname
Please talk me down, because a friend of mine has managed to make me feel really shitty for the fact that he was basically a dick. I had to leave town for a few months—long story, work-related—and so I had to ask this guy, let’s call him Jim, to watch my car for me. He’s one of my only friends around here, and even though I know he’s not exactly a totally solid dude, all I needed him to do was watch my car, literally keep an eye on it and make sure it didn’t get stolen or towed, and in return I told him he could stay in my house if he needed to. I said he could drive the car around town if he needed to, and that he couldn’t bring more than one guest into my house, so it wasn’t totally open season, and he said cool, and when I came back, everything was fine. At first. But then I found used condoms in the trash at my house (gross!) and found out from one of Jim’s co-workers that he’d driven my car to another state. I just went to call him on it and he completely blew up at me, as if I was the one being a jerk, telling me I was being unfair and literally pushing me out the door. Now I’m starting to feel guilty, which is making me feel crazy, so please reassure me he’s the dick and not me. PS, I have a real skill in trusting total assholes, but you probably already guessed that.
Wanting reassurance you’re not a dick is a pretty dumb goal (and, if you were seeking my services in real life, not covered by insurance), because you’re telling this dickhead and every other quasi-pimp who wants to take advantage of you that you need someone to reassure you that you’re not a dick. Thus cementing your status as dickbait, so the circle will remain unbroken.
So if that’s really your top priority, you’re telling him he’s the boss, and his version of right and wrong is what counts. Oh, I know, what you tell yourself is that your goal is to find nice friends who can be counted on to tell you you’re not so bad, and that a good circle of such friends will make your life OK. And that might be true in another universe, just not the known world we live in.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on June 28, 2009
A lot of readers, either with amusement or anger, like to challenge the “fuck feelings” mentality; surely, they respond, not everyone’s just a big baby, and there must be some legitimacy to some feelings, given the right circumstances. Those readers might try to use these two cases—the feelings within, and/or the situations that have spawned them—to find the exception to the rule. But if you really think we assign some feelings more value than others, then you misunderstand the rule entirely.
–Dr. Lastname
I know this site has fun with people who whine because the truth hurts, but I want to know whether you can apply that philosophy in situations like mine. My son died in a car accident a year ago—he was just a little guy, bad weather…total freak accident. One day he was fine, the next day, he was gone. My wife was driving, and while I know it wasn’t her fault, I’ve pulled away from her, and she doesn’t really talk to me, either. It’s possible that I’m drinking too much, because I am drinking to numb the pain. Would you honestly tell someone in my position, “fuck feelings”? What would you tell me? I know this is short, but my goal isn’t complicated. I just want to get over the pain of my grief.
From your first question, it seems you think this site confuses whining with real pain, which isn’t our intended message. Pain is what it is—all questions posed on this site involve real pain—and grief over the loss of a child happens to be the worst. At least, we can’t imagine anything worse.
But pain becomes dangerous when you expect to control it, because you then hope for things that simply aren’t going to happen and avoid dealing with what you’ve got, which is a life that can dump terrible suffering on you, for no reason, at a moment’s notice.
Here, your pain is telling you that you need to drink, there’s no point in not numbing the pain of your loss, there’s nothing left in your marriage because your wife isn’t talking to you, you were unable to protect your son, you’ll have nothing to give other kids, and things are just going to get worse. You pain is real, but what its telling you is fucking bullshit.
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