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 13, 2009
Sometimes, knowing is indeed half the battle, at least if you’re talking about where you left your car keys or the answers to a math test. When it comes to tracing the origins of your behavior, however, pinning your temper on dad or your bad taste in men on bad boys isn’t going to lead you to a nicer, smarter you. Knowing why you’re a prick won’t make you better; not being a prick will, regardless of where the fault for your prickish genes lies.
–Dr. Lastname
It’s been a tough year (surprise), and so I’ve been a little more quick to anger than I usually am, and I tend to have a few more beers after work than I would normally have. Things with my wife were kind of rough because of all of this, so she told me to see a therapist, and for the sake of my marriage, I agreed, because losing my wife would be the worst thing that could happen. Six months or so ago, my therapist started asking me about my childhood, and it finally clicked that my dad also had a really bad temper, and was also a pretty lousy drunk, but I’d never really thought of him that way, and I’d never really made the connection to my own behavior. My therapist was really pleased at my breakthrough, but here I am, six months later, and I don’t feel any better, and my wife is ready to leave if I don’t stop yelling at her. My goal is to use what I’ve learned in therapy to solve my problems, but what is it I haven’t figured out, why do I keep acting this way, and why am I spending money on therapy if I’m getting nowhere?
Once psychotherapy helps you figure out where your mean streak comes from, you can write an interesting book about it and, usually, blame it on a brutal ancestor and tell Oprah all about it.
What all that hard-earned knowledge probably won’t help you much with is keeping you in check the next time you get irritable and/or drunk. Bad daddy or no, what will help you a lot more is to get sober and learn how to shut the fuck up.
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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 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 30, 2009
When women are hooked on the wrong kind of love, they often want advice for the wrong reasons, which explains why sometimes good advice is worse than no advice at all. Oddly, giving romantic advice to friends is sort of like dating itself; if it doesn’t stick after a few attempts, then stop wasting your time.
–Dr. Lastname
I’ve given my closest girlfriend the same advice a million times, and a million times, she’s passively ignored me, so I’ll say straight away that my goal is to give advice she’ll actually listen to. The problem she always comes to me with is this (and in her mind, it isn’t a problem, at least at first): said friend is in a band, and because of that, she’s always on the road, and in her travels she meets these guys (either randomly for one night or for a few weeks at a time if they’re touring with her band, that kind of thing), and every so often she falls for one of these guys and wants to find a way to have a real relationship with him, even though it’s logistically impossible in the long term due to the fact they live in one place and she lives in another (never mind that they’re usually too young, too drunk, too full of themselves, etc). I tell her those things, but she insists her feelings (which is what made me think I should write you!) can’t be ignored, that guy-of-the-moment gives her butterflies and she can’t remember being this excited about anyone. It’s only a matter of time before things go horribly wrong (he stops returning her texts/calls, starts being a jerk to her, take your pick), and then she’s sad, tells me she should have listened to me, and wonders why she’s so dumb about guys. I, too, wonder, but I’m sure you’ve got it all figured out.
Instead of asking yourself what’s wrong with your advice because it hasn’t got through to her after a million times, ask yourself whether there’s any hope of her hearing your advice. Ever. And not because she has tinnitus.
Because the sad thing is, when it comes to the thrill of romance, some people are addicted to those “butterflies” and want to embrace that sensation, no matter how many times they’ve been burned. They love love, whether it’s real or phony, and regardless of how long it takes them to recover, or what else they lose while recuperating. Love is blind, your friend is deaf and dumb.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on June 14, 2009
Nobody enjoys the break-up process, but there are ways, as either the dumped or the dumpee, to make that process even worse. Between a woman who thinks she’s permaturely ending things to a man who can’t let go, these two cases show how breaking-up is not just hard to do, but easy to fuck up royally.
–Dr. Lastname
I just broke up with my boyfriend, and even though I thought I was doing the right thing in the long run, I think I’m now making a habit of ending relationships before they get too serious. This time I ended things because, after a year together, I had to face the fact that I wasn’t as excited about him as I should be, and certainly not as excited about him as he was about me (and never was—this wasn’t an issue of the spark being gone, but never really being there in the first place). I left the guy before him because he and his mother were very close—maybe too close, in that his mother seemed to boss him around—and that mother lived hundreds of miles away, which meant he’d want to move hundred miles away eventually, and I really didn’t (let alone raise a family there so close to his crazy mother). I’m not that old, but I’m definitely in the marriage window, and while I think I’m just being realistic when I make these decisions, I worry that I’m just panicking in the face of actually settling down. I hate how much I’ve hurt my exes by what I’ve done, my goal is, I don’t want to do it again.
It’s understandable to feel bad when you’ve made someone else feel bad, but feelings aren’t that important when you’re looking at the bottom line. Before you start criticizing yourself for the painful outcome of these two relationships, considering the obstacles that make it difficult to find a good partner.
Ultimately, your goal isn’t to avoid painful breakups; it’s to deal with prospective partners honestly while you try to find a good match, knowing that it’s entirely possible to begin a relationship with someone you like and respect and then discover problems that would doom a long-term future.
That’s what you can’t control here: the unsolvability of two of those problems and the need to break the relationship sooner rather than later, regardless of the pain you might cause.
We both know couples who broke up because one of them is over-responsive to another priority in their lives, like a mother or job or college basketball. So when you’re considering settling down with someone, you need to ask yourself how this guy is likely to respond if the demands of our family conflict with his other loyalties.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on June 8, 2009
These two cases are based on feedback we got from our sibling-related post a week ago. Thanks to the anonymous readers who took the time to write in, and we hope these respond to your concerns.
–Dr. Lastname
Last week, someone wrote in asking how to react to his younger brother’s claim that their father had molested him, and you told the older brother, essentially, to tell his younger brother to move on. I find myself in a similar position to that younger brother—my step-father molested me for years—but A, there is no doubt as to my claims, I assure you, and B, I have yet to tell my family (my step-father just died). If and when I do tell my family, if they react the way you instructed that guy to react, I’d be pretty furious, and frankly, I can’t believe you’d give anyone that advice. It’s taken me years to come to terms with what happened, and I couldn’t tell anyone what happened, let alone my family, until several years after the abuse stopped/I got away. I don’t think I’m wrong in expecting my family to support me, and besides, isn’t advising the older brother to tell his abused sibling just to “move on” just a way of excusing the father’s behavior for the sake of the family reputation while letting his younger brother suffer yet more humiliation? I’m not writing in for advice—my goal is to get you to admit your advice was deeply flawed.
One very tough part of disclosing long-ago sexual abuse is that you have so little control over how members of your family, or anyone, will react. In some families, you will be embraced by people who believe in you, validate your experience, and are grateful that you spoke out. Your courage in doing so will be well rewarded.
But in many families, there are people who can’t believe the abuse happened or who aren’t strong enough to face what they know (even though they’ve otherwise proven themselves to be very loving and supportive while you were growing up.). Your courage will not be rewarded, or even appreciated in the slightest.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on May 24, 2009
Love is at its most dangerous not when its bonds are most intense, but when its status between two people is muddled and ambiguous. Here are two cases where the feelings are unclear but the stakes remain high.
-Dr. Lastname
I don’t know if my husband is cheating on me, but I admit that I’m convinced enough that I’m wondering what to say to him. He’s always looking for an excuse to get out of the house—suddenly every single game, no matter what sport, deserves a trip to the bar with his buddies. It may just be that he doesn’t like to hang out with the kids, or that I annoy him, but that seems to extreme. We’ve never had a screaming fight about the whole thing, mostly because we’re both too tired from work and life and whatever. When I do joke about it, he just swears up and down he’s not cheating, and that he’s going alone out because I hate going out with him, and that I’m letting my insecurities get the best of me. And I guess he’s right in some ways, because I am kind of shy and, when I’m busy, I forget about going out. But he knows how much it drives me crazy, and that I need help with our kids, so you’d think he’d cut back out of consideration for my needs. I’m tired and lonely, too, so now I wonder where I’m supposed to turn. So that’s it. My goal is to keep anyone from cheating on anyone.
Just the fact that confrontations over infidelity are the climax of choice for most tabloid TV programs should tell you that they seldom work out positively. Instead, they lead to mutual accusations, just-stop-attacking-me apologies, ineffective denials, and/or resolutions to do better followed by the same old behavior.
The problem is that, if he tends to lie or fool around, then that’s the way he is. As much as it feels personal, it usually isn’t, and if you looked at his past under a fidelity microscope, you’d probably find microbes of secret flings everywhere, and those microbes will keep chugging along until the Cialis stops working.
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Posted by fxckfeelings on May 14, 2009
Everybody has one little thing about themselves they wish they could change, but more dangerous is the one little thing about someone *else* you wish you could change, either because you want to help them or help yourself. Here are two cases that prove that change truly does come from within…your own mind.
-Dr. Lastname
(And for those still hell-bent on wanting to change, you can always submit your own problems here).
I’ve been with my husband for 4 years now, and in that time, I’ve gotten less and less tolerant of his casual attitude towards keeping appointments and being on time. He doesn’t just not show up—he’ll always call with a reason he’s late, or at least make some joke that used to charm me enough not to get annoyed—but still, he knows it’s irritating, and I’m starting to think it’s indicative of something bigger, like, maybe he doesn’t love me enough to follow through on his promises. (And I know he does this to everyone, but he shouldn’t be doing this to his wife, and I know they’re mostly little promises, but shouldn’t those be the easiest to fulfill?) Just talking about this, I feel like I’m losing my mind, which means there’s nothing about his flakiness that doesn’t drive me crazy. Maybe, because it’s not cute anymore, I worry that nothing about him will be cute anymore? Do you think going to couples therapy would help? We should be starting a family by now, but should I be with a guy who can’t keep a simple schedule? Because my goal is to stay married and stop being annoyed.
First of all, don’t let yourself believe that your husband could stop being late if he loved you more. If you do that, you’ll attack him for devaluing your relationship, he’ll feel the relationship is devalued by your failure to accept him, he’ll act worse, and the devaluing will start to come true.
It’s much less dangerous, if more painful, to accept the sad facts that he can’t stop being late and you aren’t going to change him. Then you’re also free to respect his love and all the positive qualities you chose him for.
It’s tempting to drag him into couples therapy, let fly with your grievance, and hope the therapist can get him to change. Alas, therapists have no more power than you do to accomplish such change. The result will be much like a loud, chair-rattling fart: an explosion of hot air providing immediate relief for the one feeling the pressure, followed by a bad smell that everyone is helpless to dissipate. A good therapist will stop you before you start and ask you whether you really want to do this.
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