Posted by fxckfeelings on September 21, 2009
In difficult situations with difficult people, we’re often tempted to turn to the law for help, hoping that the authority of police or the court can set things right and not asking ourselves what is really likely to happen next. In many cases, if you’re dealing with raw feeling, going to the cops or court brings in a whole new wave of complications and misery. So, as we always say, when cornered by a crazy person, act as you would if under attack from any wild animal; lie low, play dead, and just hope it loses interest and goes away.
–Dr. Lastname
I dated this guy years ago—only for a few months, nothing really serious because he seemed kind of weird even then—and he’s been harassing me ever since. Six months after I broke up with him, he wrote me a bunch of emails and left a ton of voicemails saying he wanted to know what he did wrong, that we should be together, and I did talk to him once just to tell him I was sorry but it was over and he should move on. He told me once that he was bipolar and I was sorry for him—he had seemed very normal then and I thought maybe his family didn’t like his eccentricities, which I thought were charming—but his messages seemed intense, illogical, and angry, and I started to worry. Then, six months after that, another bunch of emails and messages, this time more menacing, so I told him resolutely never to talk to me again. Just recently he started again, but this time the messages were actually scary—he threatened to kill me if we couldn’t be together. He said he felt broken inside and that he wanted me to feel the same way so that I’d understand him and then we could be friends again. Basically, I want to know if I need to get a restraining order against this guy—I’m really scared, and if anyone ever deserved police protection, it’s me. On the other hand, if he’s dangerous, maybe he needs to be put into a hospital and that’s something the police should be able to do. My goal is for the police to do something to protect me and, I hope, him.
In a fair and reasonable world, it would be easy for the police to lock up people who become temporarily dangerous because of mental illness, and doctors would be able to cure them. Unfortunately—naturally—that’s not the world we live in.
Unless someone is overtly dangerous in a way that is immediate and unequivocal—they’ve recently written threatening letters, or said something scary to a reliable witness, or can be expected to act aggressively when interviewed by the police or an emergency room clinician—they’re not going to get hospitalized. That’s the way our laws work for involuntary hospitalization.
These laws seem to do more to protect the accused than the alleged victims in that they protect the individual’s right not to get locked up for being different. In reality, they’re often worse for the mentally ill people they’re intended to protect, because they prevent them from getting treated for an illness that is killing their brain cells and ruining their lives.
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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 September 3, 2009
Families share more than last names and lactose intolerance—they also share feelings and physical space. So whether you’re divvying up your attention among parents, or rooms among siblings, or a wheel of brie among brothers, do so with care and caution.
–Dr. Lastname
Growing up, my mother and I were very close (dad left, I was her only son). Sure, she would sometimes get very intense about relationships—she gets focused on being close with whoever she really cares about—but I thought, no matter who else was in the picture, we had a strong bond. Now that I’ve started living independently in a nearby city, I expected her to be happy when I come home and to understand that I need to see my friends as well as spend time with her. Hell, I look forward to spending time with her. But the last time I visited home, which was practically the first time since I graduated and moved away, she got badly bent out of shape and I can’t figure out what I did wrong. I didn’t lie around and do nothing or get things dirty and not clean up. I spent some time with her, was considerate. So I was shocked when she told me she was very offended and I shouldn’t visit again unless I was really interested in sharing time with her. My goal is to figure out what went wrong and straighten things out. I love her, but I can’t let her control my life whenever I’m home.
It would be nice if you were an idiot who needed nothing more than a good etiquette coach to straighten out your behavior and mend your strong bond with mama, because then you’d be welcome in your (former) old Kentucky home.
And it would be nice if your mother was having a sudden acute attack of depression complicated by outright and totally uncharacteristic bitchiness which could be expected to disappear once she got treatment and/or lucky. The good news, however, is that you’re probably not an idiot and she’s probably not depressed.
And, if that’s true, then the sad news is that she’s probably got a problem with her character that neither one of you is going to change, and her home will never be yours. So it’s true, you can never go home again, especially when it was never your home in the first place.
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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 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 July 27, 2009
When you work at a family business, you often feel obliged to go above and beyond what would normally be expected of you. But if “above and beyond” means your job has forced you into a moral quandary and a double life as a cop or therapist, then it’s time to forget family and get rational. And if you still can’t figure out a solution, it’s time to get a new job.
–Dr. Lastname
My family has had a business going back three generations; now my dad’s in charge, my sister and I work there, plus a bunch of cousins, aunts, and uncles. I was looking through one of my client’s files when I saw some numbers that looked off. Going through the records, it became clear that this was a persistent inaccuracy, so I went to my sister, who actually does the accounting. She was really upset I’d come to her—she admitted she’d cooked the books a bit, and hoped I wouldn’t notice—but begged me not to say anything to anyone or be mad, because our father had told her to do it, and said he had a good reason. I don’t want to ask my father what that reason is—even though I can’t imagine what reason he has in mind—but I do want him to stop, because he’s putting the entire business in danger. At the same time, he’s my father, and if I do challenge him, it would really upset him and everyone else in the family. They respect him and would consider it disloyal to question his judgment or put the family in trouble. But wouldn’t going under or getting sued also upset the family? I’ve always believed in doing the right thing, but is it right to confront him and get everyone mad at me and possibly lose my job, or to say nothing and be part of something dishonest? It’s killing me not to have an answer, and that’s my goal.
If you assume that there’s always a good way to do right—that there’s a black and white right and wrong—you’ll often make things worse for you and your loved ones. Simple-minded idealists probably do more harm in this world than all the thieves combined.
The problem with these idealists is that they elevate the peaceful feeling of a good conscience above considering what happens next or whom it harms. If this actually were a simpler world where the only temptations came from destructive or selfish impulses, and all of us really had the same ability to choose between good and evil…well then, that sounds like a very simple, logical place to be. But it also sounds like one nation under Skynet.
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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 6, 2009
In honor of our nation’s birth, we’re doing our patriotic duty this long weekend and helping out one of our elected leaders (at least until he’s forced to resign); this man may no longer be a hopeful for the White House, but he’s already the commander-in-chief of feelings. We also reach out to his wife, who probably is less in need of a shrink than a good divorce lawyer.
Happy 4th!
–Dr. Lastname
I’ve always had a God-given gift for communicating with people and have tried to use my gifts to lead people in a moral direction. In recent years, after achieving success as a lawyer, and marrying a truly remarkable woman, I felt a calling to run for office and, with her help as campaign manager, I was elected to office. I wasn’t afraid to take unpopular positions if I felt I was doing the right thing, because I trust my passion; that’s what connects me with people. About a year ago, I felt an unbelievable sense of connection with a beautiful, foreign woman. I’ve never felt so close to anyone, and it seemed unfair to either one of us not to share our love. But instead of having a beautiful experience to share and then put behind us, I became obsessed. It distanced me from my wife, who sensed that something was wrong, and it distracted me from work. I had to lie, and I hate lying. Finally, and with great relief, I confessed the truth. But I still can’t stop thinking and talking about her and now my marriage and political life are a mess. In the past, passion has brought me all my success and I need passion in my life. Now, I want to recapture that passion in a way that revives my marriage, interest in my job, and relationship with the public.
To successful politicians, who often have your style and personality, intense feelings often seem like the core of their being, and what makes them special. Such feelings give the gift of easy communication, charisma, material success, votes, and a certain je ne sais what the ladies love (and, sometimes, the dudes—here’s to you, Larry Craig, for having more charisma in your feet than most of us have in our entire bodies).
Sooner or later, however, your skills work their mojo, you achieve your goals, and life settles down to boring conversations with family and the same old guys at work (even if many are relatively famous), and at that point, if passion has become your elixir of life, you may feel like you’ve lost your oxygen and slid into meaningless mediocrity. The spark, as you might call it, is gone.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on June 22, 2009
Academics are often perfectionists, which means their own faults are always subject to scrutiny, no matter how futile the pursuit. These two professors are scholars of their own inadequacies, but they don’t know how necessary it is to accept and make use of their faults instead of trying to revise themselves to death.
–Dr. Lastname
I’m an English professor, and I split my year between 2 schools in 2 different cities. I’ve been a heavy drinker since my 20s, but last fall, with the encouragement of friends and family, I finally decided to get sober. My family was wonderful, I found a very supportive AA group and, and with their help, I stopped drinking and kept it together for several months. But I’ve always been a very needy and insecure person, and I couldn’t believe I’d get the same kind of help from my friends and an AA group in the second city. The idea of leaving my safety net behind filled me with dread, and, a couple of weeks before my annual move, I fell off the wagon. The truth is, I have a good support system in the second city too, and my family is behind me, but I let them down. Now, I’ve moved to the second city, I’m connected with a good support group here, and I haven’t had a drink in 3 days, but I feel like such a loser because I can never believe in myself. My goal is to be less needy and insecure, but I don’t think I’ll ever get there.
Being less needy and insecure aren’t good goals because, like most things having to do with your emotions, you don’t control them. As you’ve seen, wishing to make them different can be so frustrating, it can drive you to drink. Now you’re still needy, and you need a drink. Not good.
Don’t believe all you hear about the evils of feeling needy and insecure. Some people say that those feelings cause all sorts of problems, and that it’s the job of therapy to make them better. That’s crap.
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