Posted by fxckfeelings on December 14, 2009
As Christmas gets even closer, we have to help our readers with even more holiday-inspired, toxic self-reflection. The holidays have the unfortunate tendency to push people to examine and confront their hurt feelings, when really, the best gift they could give themselves is to ignore their feelings and just enjoy their friends, family, and seasonal baked goods.
–Dr. Lastname
I consider myself to be a pretty thoughtful gift-giver—I pay attention to what other people need, things they don’t even know they need, their birthdays, their anniversaries, and I usually get it right. My husband, on the other hand, isn’t sentimental at all about birthdays or anniversaries and doesn’t remember them, so he’s a lousy gift-giver and, I can’t help it, it really gets to me. After I knock myself out to get him a good birthday present, he either forgets mine, or gets flowers at the last moment, or thinks of getting me something and then doesn’t follow through. We have a wonderful marriage but every year around Christmas, his lazy, lousy gifting really gets on my nerves (particularly since I can’t help doing a good job with his gifts). It’s humiliating. My goal is to find a good way to address this problem so I won’t resent him this Christmas.
There’s not one, but two good reasons why it’s a bad idea to address the problem of unequal gift giving with your husband, and the first, it’s a safe bet, is that you’ve done it before and it turned out badly. I’m right, am I not? (It’s important for me to be right, given my Harvard background).
You reproach your husband for neglecting your Christmas needs, he gets defensive, tells you how he knocks himself out for you, maybe goes further and remembers the time you didn’t do your share, and then you have to tell him how he got the facts wrong.
Meanwhile, both of you are drifting further away from any spirit of Christmas giving, other than that old staple of gift-giving everywhere, the Christmas Earful.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on November 30, 2009
Seeing someone through a long illness makes saying goodbye a little easier, but that’s like saying that lifting weights makes it easier to lift a truck; losing someone you love is an impossible, painful task, no matter what the circumstances. You don’t protect them from death by protecting them from death, but by bearing the sorrow of their memories.
–Dr. Lastname
My father, a Holocaust survivor, is dying of cancer. I’m his only child, and while my mother is doing the best she can, I feel overwhelmed with responsibility and grief. I don’t know how to stop feeling so helpless, not just because I love him and can’t save him, but because he overcame so much to make life possible for me, and now all I can do is watch him die. My goal is to figure out what I can do for him since he’s done so much for me.
Don’t fall for the common misconception that you fulfill your duty to your parents by taking care of them and keeping them safe when they’re old. As a genuine geezer, Dr. Lastname can tell you with authority: you can’t, and it’s not your duty anyway.
No, I’m not telling you to push your dad out on an ice flow or forget about him, not for a moment. I am telling you to think about two things: what your goal will be for your kids when you get old and need their help, and how little you can do for anyone when they’re suffering from old age.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on November 19, 2009
Unless you’re holding a weapon, getting someone to do something they don’t want to with a simple request is virtually impossible. Even harder, however, is getting someone to do something they don’t want to do by passively nudging them; now both the request and the delivery of the request are so repellent that you’ve guaranteed a bad outcome. Taking a stand isn’t easy, and jebus knows it’s often a bad idea, but when it has to be done, you need to cowboy up and be direct, weapon or no.
–Dr. Lastname
Lately, I’ve been trying to get my life together, and part of that is quitting drinking; my fiancé and I are actually getting sober together. The problem in all this is my mother; she lives nearby and comes over often (believing she is providing “moral support” for turning my life around), and, for whatever reason, no matter what the occasion, she brings a bottle of wine as a gift and makes a really big deal about the vintage and how refined it is and all this nonsense. I guess she doesn’t really understand that drinking is a big source of my problems, and both my fiancé and I have dropped hints to that effect, but it’s not getting through, and so, surprise, it’s messing with our sobriety. My goal is to get through to my mother that, while I appreciate her kindness, she’s actually being kind of cruel.
When you decide it’s necessary to get a grip on any powerful hard-to-control behavior, your goal is not to get people to take the hint that they should avoid tempting you. (Hint, hint—you’re being a wuss).
If you’re hinting, it’s because you’re afraid to tell people, straight out, that you’re trying to get sober, and that means that you’re more worried about what they think than about your reasons for not drinking. Your sobriety doesn’t stand a chance; you’re not strong enough.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on November 2, 2009
Making the best of ill health, surprise, doesn’t usually feel good; there’s the burden you’ve put on others, and (if you’re caring for someone who’s chronically ill) for the burden they’ve put on you. If you can learn to ignore your emotions and focus rationally on what your life is really about, however, you’ll find that your pain isn’t really what’s important.
–Dr. Lastname
I have been basically bedridden now for almost a decade with constant pain and fatigue, and I’m not even 50. I have been diagnosed with many auto-immune diseases, as well as central nervous system disorders that have led to constant pain, and am on a diet of many medications for pain, neurological disorders, and sleep. I find myself asking why bother? I have lost so many years of my life; my “thrill” in life is getting through a grocery trip. My body is weakened and aged, I cannot please my husband, my now grown children see a mother who is weak and sad. Before this, I was an active, involved, strong woman looking forward to a wonderful active life with my husband, and ready to see my children become healthy adults with families of their own. Now I see a life of pain that no medication has been able to stop, the constant craving of sleep, and utter depression.
If your goal was to be have a wonderful active life with your husband and watch your grandchildren grow, you were screwed before you began.
We all wish for a life like that, but the reason I’m open for business is that none of us can make such a life happen, even with a perfect start and wonderful marriage, not in this world. So if you make a goal of wishes like these, you’ll feel like a total loser when uncontrollable things happen, like incurable illness and pain.
A better goal is to find a partner who is sufficiently strong, caring, and devoted to kids so that he will shoulder the load when you can’t and stick around when you’re not much fun to be with. Lucky for you, you’ve succeeded.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on October 29, 2009
When people feel most powerless, they instinctively attempt to exert as much control as they can; even—especially—when they have less control than ever. In those situations, they go to the one thing over which they feel they’ll always have control, which is their own life, or the lives of those closest to them, but the more they discuss whether or not to continue life, the more they make that life difficult. Ultimately, it’s best not to ask “should I live,” but to admit—you guessed it—”I am fucked.”
–Dr. Lastname
I can’t seem to make a decision about the life/death issue. I want to want to live, or have the balls to call it quits. Shit or get off the pot. It takes too much damn energy vacillating.
“To be or not to be”—that’s still the question, right? Well, it’s also a question I never like to answer or hear.
Shakespeare or no, it’s a bad question to ask, because most people who ask it don’t really want an answer; they want an antidote to their hurt or someone to blame for not providing it.
It’s similar to the way Boston taxi drivers ask the passenger whether to take the Pike or Storrow to Logan airport — to have someone else to blame when, either way, they inevitably run into heavy traffic.
I know, the question expresses your deepest feelings. It also wears out friends, drives them away/proves that no one can help, and confirms your right to be very, very unhappy. The whole cycle sucks and it’s unhealthy. Keep asking it, and somebody will go ahead and hurt you more.
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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.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on October 22, 2009
When different members of one family worship more than one god, life can become an unholy mess. If all parties can appreciate each other, however, and share the same values—even if they attribute their higher motivations to be good to different sources—then religion doesn’t have a goddamned thing to do with the love that a family shares.
–Dr. Lastname
My wife is Jewish, and I’m not (I’m a severely lapsed Catholic). Our oldest kid is about to enter school, and my wife has put it on the table that she wants him to go to a Jewish private school, which is surprising to me, not just because I’m not Jewish, but because my wife isn’t that religious at all—we go to celebrate a couple of holidays a year at her parents’ house but we never go to temple or anything. Now she wants our son to learn Hebrew, and I don’t get it, not just because she’s never cared before, but because if she’s worried about getting him a good education, Catholic schools are cheaper and he doesn’t need to learn a new alphabet. I don’t know how to get into this discussion without opening a huge holy can of worms, which is so strange considering how small a role religion has played in our married life up to now. My goal is to figure this out without stepping on any landmines or having my son end up studying and entering a religion I myself don’t practice (nor does my wife!).
If you stick with your own kind, be they your same religion, race, or member of the same area Trekker group, you can take lots of things for granted. It’s easier, there’s less pain, and you share common holidays, religious education, and strange-smelling foods.
Then again, maybe you knew what you were doing when you married outside the clan; it’s going to be a lot more interesting. Of course, if you dislike negotiation and conflict, you should have stayed away from Jews [disclaimer: Dr. Lastname is a proud member of the tribe].
If you can accept the fact that there are some painful, unavoidable differences between you and your wife, however, then you can start working on defining your areas of commonality and difference and find respectful ways to compromise without incurring any wrath, be it God’s or your wife’s.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on October 19, 2009
The old saying is, “opinions are like assholes– everybody’s got one.” The sentiment here at fxckfeelings.com is more along the lines of, “assholes make up a lot of the population,” so you need to deal with other people’s unsolicited input without letting it grind you down. Many opinions are ignorable and interchangable, like many of the assholes in the universe. Other opinions, however, are worth considering, because not everyone is an asshole, and you might have something you need to learn.
–Dr. Lastname
I’ve always gotten some attitude at work because I’m a woman (some people seem to act like that’s the only reason I’ve gotten as far as I have), but recently, due to the economy, I’ve been dealing with a lot more disrespect. Frankly, the opposite should be true, and I should be getting loads of appreciation for doing twice the work I used to after so many lay-offs. Instead, people think that it’s not fair that I get to keep my job, and while the sexist stuff was annoying, this recent turn of events has made things almost unbearable. I’m sick of not being appreciated for my talent and hard work and instead having to deal with everyone’s bullshit and bitterness instead. My goal is to get treated appropriately for a job well done, simple as that.
While appreciation certainly makes the job easier—it makes most things in life easier—it doesn’t cut it as a goal, if only because need for appreciation makes you easy prey to anyone who gives you lots of appreciation, twice as much work, and no more pay. I can’t abide your goal to be a sucker.
Appreciation also makes you reactive to other people’s feelings, instead of to your own reasons for being there, so don’t quit a job because everyone at work is critical, and don’t stay because they tell you you’re marvelous.
Remember what you’re working for: money, not love. Unless you’re a bad prostitute.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on October 15, 2009
Accepting that we are all fucked by life is a basic tenet of the f*ckfeelings.com philosophy; there’s a certain zen to it, as we encourage not just being one with the universe and its glory but also with its amber waves of pain. For people who suffer from depression, pain makes an obvious attempt to define your life goal as “I’ve got to stop this.” But killing pain, as desirable as it is, will always compound your troubles if you make it your goal. Your goal is your goal and pain is pain and never the twain should meet.
–Dr. Lastname
I have been struggling with depression for most of my adult life, and I do mean struggling. No matter how many times I find myself going through months at a time of feeling hopeless, angry, and miserable, I know it’s a treatable illness—a chemical imbalance— nd that there must be a way to control it. Over the past twenty years, I’ve been through a handful of shrinks and at least a dozen medications, because no matter how bad it gets, I’ve refused to give up looking for the treatment that will allow me to fulfill the promise of my otherwise lucky life. The problem is that, twenty years into this battle, and I’m still not winning. Treatment works for a while, and just when it seems like things are finally working out for me and I’m in the clear, everything falls apart again. My goal is to figure out how—with what treatment, medication, game plan—to get control of this disease and live a normal life, because I’m stronger than this, and I refuse to let depression get the last laugh.
Hold up—did I miss the morning’s headlines that declared depression a curable illness? Up until yesterday, it wasn’t, and when you think about it, the list of truly curable diseases is an adorably short one. Really, unless you’ve got athlete’s foot, you’re probably shit out of luck.
That said, it doesn’t mean you should shoot yourself unless you’re similarly upset by the incurability of hypertension, diabetes, osteoporosis, high cholesterol, and all the other illnesses that most of us get, sooner or later. Even athlete’s foot isn’t worth it.
The issue here is that if you think that beating an illness means getting rid of it, you’ve lost before you’ve begun to fight. And if that illness is depression, then losing means getting more depressed, which means becoming a bigger loser, ad infinitum.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on October 5, 2009
While being selfless seems like an admirable quality in the abstract, most of us learn early that people with a thing for giving aren’t actually so easy to be around; it’s hard to have an even give-and-take with somebody who doesn’t fulfill the “take” part of the bargain. Selflessness maybe feel good in the short term, but the more you extend yourself while shutting out (or being shut out by) the other party, the more likely you are to end up with only yourself as company.
–Dr. Lastname
I love my girlfriend, and we’ve gone through a lot together; not just living in different cities (which I’ll get to), but also serious health problems. I was there for her for every second of her treatment for cancer, an ordeal that lasted for one scary year, before she went into remission. While we were living together at that point, it wasn’t long after she was in the clear that my father asked me if I could move back to my home city to help him at work—he wanted some help expanding the family business—so I told my girlfriend it would be six months, max, and then I’d move back in with her. But six months have passed, and my dad says the business won’t work without me (although, admittedly, it has in the past), and I don’t think it would be fair to keep stringing my girlfriend along. I love her, but I’m needed here, and I also don’t want to hurt her and be responsible for a relapse. My goal is to break up with my girlfriend and get her to understand it’s the best thing to do.
Some people are born givers; they enjoy giving and, if they don’t think about it, their giving impulses push them closer to whomever needs them most. You might think such selfless givers were saints, regular Ghandi-jis or Mary Poppinses.
In reality—and while most people are loath to admit it—most selfless givers are assholes to everyone but the one who makes them feel most obligated. (Just ask Ghandi’s wife.)
So, my giving friend, I’m going to tell you the same thing I’d advise your ex-girlfriend to say to you: that your goal shouldn’t be to feel better about excusing yourself from your obligation to your girlfriend, but to figure out your own priorities, regardless of your obligations to her, your father, or anyone else.
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