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.
WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
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.
WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
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.
WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
