Posted by fxckfeelings on February 7, 2013
As anyone who’s loved someone crazy or addicted knows—or really, anyone who’s watched any non-duck or -storage related programming on A&E—some addicted and/or mentally ill people take too much responsibility for the impact of their behavior on family, and others put too much responsibility on their family for saving them from themselves. In actuality, your job is never to act on your feelings of responsibility until you’ve first observed, and then accepted, what you actually control. The result may suck, and leave you feel totally helpless, but you need never be a slave of guilt when you’ve done what you can with what you’ve got (which is hopefully more than basic cable).
–Dr. Lastname
My wife (we’re gay) has Tourette’s syndrome, anger issues, and a tendency to drink more than she should. I have Bipolar disorder, and an obliviousness to other people’s feelings that is sometimes intentional, sometimes not. My wife and I dated for seven years before we got married, so it’s not like we didn’t know each other’s diagnoses and drama, but most for most of that time I was well-medicated, held down a full time job with benefits, and felt like I wasn’t being my real self. Last summer my anti-depressants kicked me into a full manic break. “God” told me to start collecting camping/survival gear and move in with friends in my home state to work on a civil rights campaign and spend time with my family. We won the campaign, and I got some cherished time with two relatives in their dying days, but I completely f*cked us financially, and ruined my wife’s trust in me. She is adamant that marriage is forever, whether we’re happy or not, and we are going to make it work. I love her, but I’m pretty sure I’m an Asshole, there’s no reason to believe this won’t happen again, and if she doesn’t get rid of me I will ruin her life, whether I want to or not. She wants stability and kids. I don’t think I can provide those things for her. My goal is to reconcile my wife’s expectations with the real limitations imposed by my case of crazy.
As we’ve often said, the best way to know for sure that you’re not an Asshole™ is the fact that you even considered the possibility that you’re an Asshole™. Assholes™ may feel injured, but, since they know it was someone else’s fault, they never feel guilty. Sadly, as a non-Asshole™, you’re forced to feel both.
So just because you’re mortified by what your last manic period did to your family finances doesn’t make you an Asshole™ or a dangerous marital partner, even though that’s the way you feel. It just makes you a good person struggling with a bad illness. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on January 28, 2013
Everyone will tell you that there are valuable lessons to learn from bad experiences, but unfortunately, there are some valueless lessons as well if you misinterpret your misfortune. For example, some people read too much into their painful experiences and become afraid to take new risks, while others learn almost nothing and have to retake the lesson/get screwed again and again. The answer is not to sample your crises like Goldilocks—trying to find a response that is not too much, not too little, but just right—but instead, to ground yourself in values that help you determine what risks are worth taking, what feelings are worth keeping to yourself, and what’s truly worth learning for the future.
–Dr. Lastname
The end of last year I was able to stop taking my anti-depressants after about 4 years. I feel good, my drinking is in control (though I do sometimes feel the old instinct that, when I’m stressed, a drink will help, though after one sip I know it won’t). I’m free of my fear of going outside my apartment or with groups of people. I did see a therapist, which helped me so much, though we never found out what triggered my depression, so I have a deep worry that it might come back. I know there is no point worrying about something that might never happen (I fully believe that its just a waste of time), but I doubt my relationship will survive another ride on the depression roller-coaster as it was nearly destroyed the first time. Also, my partner is concerned as I hope to have kids at some point and my partner has read that postpartum depression is worse if you have suffered depression before. The thought of being ill again terrifies me and I want to avoid that black hole anyway I can. Should I try to work out why I got depressed before? Is postpartum depression something I should be concerned about what the time comes? If I can somehow prepare myself then I’m hoping that if/when depression comes knocking again I might be able to put up a better fight.
After experiencing and surviving the pain and repercussions of a bad bout of depression, it’s normal to fear recurrence, but that fear is often worse than the thing itself; that’s certainly true with depression, as well as heights, spiders, and gays.
In fact, a PTSD-like syndrome of anxiety is common among people who’ve survived such painful and intense symptoms, so it’s important that you pay as much attention to managing the fear of depression as to treating the depression itself.
It’s understandable that you want to figure out a way to prevent recurrence, but reassuring yourself that everything is going to be alright is as misguided as parents’ insisting their kids they can grow up to be whatever they want; whether you’re hoping to rid yourself of depression or reach the major leagues despite being a one-armed girl, the odds aren’t good, so don’t make the mistake of reassuring/promising yourself that it won’t happen again.
In reality, as with all problems, real consolation comes not from putting the trauma out of mind completely, but from knowing that, whatever happens, you survived the first time and acquired a lot of weapons you’ll use to fight depression if and when it comes again.
Of course, fear will tell you that you and your relationship barely made it, but the fact is, you did make it, which is a great accomplishment. Now you’ve found treatments that work and, most importantly, you know that depression is just a bunch of symptoms, it’s not who you are; it wasn’t personal and you weren’t lazy, just unlucky and sick. Don’t get so freaked, then, by the harm a postpartum depression might do to your kids and/or marriage that you forget that child-rearing and maintaining relationships is always risky, and that you have developed good tools for managing that risk.
Yes, you have a chance of having a post-partum depression, but instead of terrifying yourself with thoughts of that possibility, investigate what you can do to decrease the risk. For one thing, you’ll find you can take antidepressants, even while pregnant; their risk of harming a fetus is low and outweighed by their ability to protect you (and the fetus) from its crushing symptoms.
And don’t fall prey to the notion that because medication has risks, it’s automatically unsafe to take, or that you’re weak or dependent to do so. It means you have an obligation, as with any danger, to weigh benefit against risk by sizing up the chance that your symptoms will come back and deciding whether treatment is worth it. So ask your doctors (and do your own research) to inform yourself about the odds of relapse. If they’re high, find out what the risks and benefits are of taking antidepressants as a preventive vitamin.
Instead of letting depression persuade you that you’ll ruin your family by making your partner and children miserable, treat it like any other disabling illness that tests most families, sooner or later, and teaches them how to survive hard times. Get your arsenal ready for fighting the negative thinking that depression both causes and is caused by.
Don’t let your experience make you a depression-phobic; remember how well you handled that depression, take a cue from the gays, and counter that fear with pride. We’d gladly see that parade.
STATEMENT:
“I can’t think about depression without feeling overwhelmed by fear. I know, however, that fear distorts my thoughts and that my experience with depression has made me much more knowledgeable and better equipped to manage it. I will prepare myself and take any reasonable risk that will allow me to stay as healthy and functional as possible, regardless of whether it recurs.”
I don’t see how I can go back to working in my family’s car business because my brother is such a dickhead. I’m broke and I need the work, and my father doesn’t mind if I work there, but my brother and I have never gotten along, and the last time we worked together he was so insulting, day after day, that I finally picked up a tire iron and we would have killed one another if they didn’t pull us apart. I promised to bury the hatchet and keep my mouth shut—as I said, I need the money—but I was back at the shop for barely four hours when he started up again and I had no choice but to punch him in the face. My goal is to teach my brother to leave me alone, so I can work at the family business when there’s no other work around.
Most of us have an instinct to push back when we’re pushed, particularly if the pusher is aggressive and insulting (and a blood relation). No words are necessary and we don’t have to be in a bad mood—all it takes to get triggered is getting cut off in traffic or a dirty look from a spouse. Maybe this instinct helps us protect ourselves from predators by showing them we’re too much trouble to dominate, but more often than not it just makes assholes, inmates, and/or corpses out of everyone.
Unlike the woman above, whose depression has taught her fear and pessimism, you don’t seem to have learned anything from your many fights. Like her, however, your response is based on feeling, not reason, so it’s both about learning from experience, as well as restraining your emotions.
Your brain is obviously wired to fight back, so if someone pushes, you feel obliged to return the favor, even if you aren’t necessarily looking for a fight in the first place. Trouble is, once that instinct gets hold of you, it gives you no choice but to fight, and the results in the real world usually suck for everyone who isn’t a Hollywood hero. Tough guys get arrested, sued, betrayed, beat up by other tough guys, and, like the rest of us, old and too weak to throw much of a punch.
So instead of just following your instinct towards fury, ask yourself whether you want to satisfy that instinct or control it. Sure, satisfying it feels better in the short run but, you guessed it, always ends badly. Controlling it is hard, takes lots of practice, and it’s what the authorities want you to do, which may make it harder for you to decide whether it’s what you want to do for yourself. Until you control that fighting instinct, however, there’s nothing anyone can say that will protect you from endless fights with your brother and others.
Wanting to control it is no guarantee that you can, and neither is therapy. If you decide to control it, you will probably need to work at building your control day by day, one day at a time, like AA, getting religion, or a gym membership. You can call it anger management, but you’d be better off calling it humiliation tolerance and/or finding goals that are more important than insult and injury (like making a living or being a good guy) and reminding yourself about them, hour by hour. The only thing you have to fight is the urge to fight, and the tire iron won’t do you any good.
STATEMENT:
“I can’t stand to feel pushed around and I take pride in being the guy who never starts fights but who knows how to finish them. I know, however, that fighting always ends badly in an unfair world and I have goals that are more important than what anyone says or does to me, particularly if they’re assholes. I am proud of myself for pursuing those goals regardless of how assholes make me feel.”
Posted by fxckfeelings on December 27, 2012
Giving advice is like taking your pants off in front of someone; there better be some sort of invitation or context, or things are going to get weird. That doesn’t mean giving unsolicited advice isn’t the right thing to do, or that there isn’t a right way to do it; you just have to be prepared to control your emotions, particularly anger, fear, and helplessness, and only speak up when you think it’s necessary, if you wish to prevent harm or enmity. Using the proper procedures for advice giving, you can do right by the ones you wish to help, even if you can’t control or guarantee the results. If you can’t keep your negativity to yourself, however, or you know speaking up will do more harm than good, better to keep your proverbial pants on.
–Dr. Lastname
Please Note: We’re off again on Monday for New Year’s Eve. Here’s to a great f*cking 2013!
I talked to my cousin about her son’s guns & isolation, and now she tells me her family is “devastated.” How can I remain at peace with myself? I feel strong at the moment but feel a vague fear that a slow degradation of my strength may occur over time. Her family has been self-devastated for a long time. She divorced years ago. The oldest, adult son has never worked a meaningful job and has developed an intense focus on guns over the past couple of years. He shoots small rodents in their suburban back yard, then cooks and eats them (he uses just a pellet gun for this but with a home-made silencer, which must be illegal). The other son was within one semester of a college degree when he began using heavy drugs. His parents invested a fortune in the best rehab available but the son dropped out with two weeks to go. Start big and quit is one of the family’s MOs—a deeply ingrained pattern. I have often thought they all need “tough love” but now that I’ve provided some, I seem to be a catalyst for further dysfunction. My conscience is clear but I feel sad at what I have set in motion (other sane people encouraged me to raise the warning so I did not operate in a vacuum). Of course, it was heavily influenced by the occasion of the CT school shooting.
When someone you care about appears to be stumbling into deep trouble and letting things get out-of-control, scary, and/or armed, it’s hard not to get scared shitless on their behalf and offer them a piece of your mind.
After all, if they can’t figure out where to draw the line, you figure you can be the one to show them, even though you can’t imagine how a parent could ever, ever allow dangerous behavior to go so far. You want to help your cousin by stopping her from doing something wrong, but telling her that is the wrongest way to go about it.
When someone in trouble doesn’t ask for your help, it’s usually because they’re already worried that they’ve done something wrong and are afraid you’ll think the same. If you confirm their fear of being judged, then they’ll devote their energy away from actually confronting the problem and towards defending themselves against their new problem, you.
You were certainly right to share your worries with her about her weird gun-toting, varmint-eating son, and right to voice your concerns about dangers she may be ignoring. What you shouldn’t do, however, is imply criticism with the words “tough love,” which usually imply that a parent’s over-permissiveness has created a spoiled brat. Even assuming it’s true—which may not be the case if her son is a paranoid schizophrenic—there’s nothing like knocking someone’s parenting to cause a negative, defensive reaction (and nothing like comparing their son to a mass murderer to lay them especially low).
Try starting over, if you can, by telling your cousin what you admire about her parenting and her kids’ good qualities. After all, the older child was obviously hard-working and capable until drug addiction stopped him cold, and, since you don’t describe the younger son as a brat, there’s reason to think he may have been doing well until something went wrong, as well. Tell her you’re sorry if she felt your were criticizing her or her boys, but you just want to be sure she’s safe and offer any help you can.
Then, if she’s receptive, ask her about her older son’s behavior in concrete, specific terms. Don’t ask why he’s changed—that implies that she should have an answer that she obviously doesn’t have and that may not exist—and don’t imply that he’s behaving badly, because you don’t know how much he controls himself. Just ask for the facts, particularly about whatever he’s said or done that’s dangerous or shows his brain isn’t working right. Ask about threats, punches, voices in the head, silence when she asks questions, lost hygiene, and ideas about the FBI or Virgin Mary (it’s funny how they fall into the same category in the psychotic mind).
Whatever facts you uncover, don’t let your fears prompt you to tell her what to do; instead, find out what options she’s tried. If she seems to be ignoring a threat, ask her to consider her reasons for not being more worried. If she seems to be discounting the possibility of mental illness, ask her to read up on the signs and symptoms and consider what to do if they seem to fit.
You can’t tell your cousin how to straighten out her fucked-up family—it would be nice if you could, and even nicer if there was a way she could actually do it—but you can remind her that there are many good parents who can’t stop their families from being fucked up, and many ways of being helpful to your fucked-up kids if you don’t feel like a failure.
Offering help when it isn’t asked for is always tricky, but if you make the tone of the conversation constructive instead of critical, she might not be able to change her family, but she may be able to change her approach. And if she doesn’t, or can’t, you’ll still know you did the right thing, and you did it the right way.
STATEMENT:
“I feel like my cousin’s son could go postal while she pretends there’s nothing wrong, but I know these things don’t happen because of bad parenting. I will try to make her feel respected before inviting her to share what she knows about her son. If I have an opportunity to advise her, I will encourage her to make rational decisions about what she knows rather than following her emotions. I will not let my helplessness force me to become impatient and critical.”
My 22-year-old daughter is a good kid and deserves to be treated as an adult, but she’s been living at home since graduating college because she needs to save money, and I can’t help but notice how many guys she dates and spends the night with. She often seems disappointed when they don’t call her again, and then seems too eager to respond when someone new asks her out. I know if I use words like “bad choices” or “low self-esteem” she’ll stop listening, and maybe I shouldn’t offer advice unless it’s invited, but I sure wish I could help steer her in a better direction.
There’s an obvious danger to giving unsolicited advice (see above), and don’t think the danger is much less when people pay a shrink for it. All you need do is imply they’re doing something morally wrong and you’ve either crushed their confidence or stirred them to crush yours. Unlike the woman above, however, your concern comes from observations, not suspicion, and it regards behavior that is far more within her own control. You know of what you speak, and as long as you speak carefully, a conversation is not impossible.
Fortunately, you can often engage people in willing discussions about their dating problems if you keep the discussion positive, refrain from showing negative emotion (no matter what you really feel) and focus on the kind of thinking you want someone to do, rather than actions you want them to take. So don’t show fear or disapproval, or do the psychobabble equivalent by talking about low self-esteem.
Instead, tell her you respect her achieving her degree, saving money, and taking on the search for a good relationship. Then let her know that, if she’s interested, you’ve got some good ideas for how she can search for a partner while protecting her heart.
It’s true, you may be unacquainted with online dating or be one of those lucky individuals who stumbled into a good partnership without first having had many bad dates and a first marriage. Nevertheless, you can draw on other life experiences, like hiring someone for a job or working out a business partnership.
In the non-emotional, business-like manner of a professional matchmaker, ask her what sort of person she’s looking for and what criteria she uses to screen out deadbeats, heartbreakers, and baggage-bearers. Find out how she gathers factual information about a person’s reliability, work, credit card debt, and dumped-girlfriend history so she can head off trouble before she starts to feel attached. Discuss methods for keeping her distance while doing research.
If she feels unattractive, remind her that making herself more beautiful may get her more candidates, but also requires more careful, tougher screening. Help her list her strengths, which you know well.
If you respect the privacy of her heart while offering to coach her on a head-hunt, you can talk frankly without making her feel threatened. Then she can benefit from your wisdom while you enjoy the pleasure of being her friend (and avoid the mess of accidentally become a grandma).
STATEMENT:
“I hate to see my daughter expose herself to rejection and self-doubt as she looks for love, but I know that criticism of her poor choices will add to her self-blame. She has good values, many strengths, and much to offer. By inviting her to think about search tactics and techniques, rather than about feelings of wanting, needing, and being dumped, I will make my love and experience available to her in a way that she can use.”
Posted by fxckfeelings on December 13, 2012
Given how little we control our own urges, it’s not surprising that we also have trouble controlling our reactions to them, but it is odd how often those reactions are totally wrong. Brains have a pretty good track record with instincts; get thirsty when hot, get sleep when tired, get away when near snakes, etc. When people get urges that are humiliating, however, even when they’re doing a good job of controlling them, they wrongly blame themselves, but when they get controlled by noble urges, even when they’re causing terrible harm, they give themselves a pass. So, however much you love or hate your urges, don’t give yourself a hard time about stigma or anti-stigma. Instead, remember your own moral priorities and ask yourself whether you’re doing the right thing with whatever urges, pretty or ugly, that you got, and to avoid snakes.
–Dr. Lastname
I have yo yo’d with my weight for ever—I was 8 years old when I remember going on my first diet, and I had binged by lunch time. I have seen a psychologist regularly in the past and a psychiatrist more recently, and been diagnosed with a binge eating disorder as well as melancholic depression. I also have a history of being sexually abused when I was a child and required hospitalization once for an attempted suicide (prior to diagnosis) and have been on various anti-depressants. Last year I decided to press charges against my abuser and the investigation is still taking place. This was very big for me as previously I couldn’t speak about or put into words to anybody what had happened to me, but with the professional help over years, could make a police statement. I have managed to get into a healthy weight range many times in the past, but only when on a program like Jenny Craig or weight watchers, and I resent having to do these programs and can’t commit to them after I have done them once, but I can’t seem to stay in this healthy way of life on my own. I am either losing weight or putting weight on– my thought are always around food, what when and where I can eat next. I hide most of my eating from everyone including my husband. I feel like a drug addict and don’t know how to take control of my eating. I do really well in my career and other areas of my life, I just can’t flip this switch that turns me into a zombie when I want to eat. I read everything I can about these disorders, I talk about strategies with my mental health professional, but when the urge to eat takes over I go into a zone that I can’t switch myself out of. How can I stop this pattern?
Having an eating disorder is rough, but it’s even worse if you give yourself a disorder about your disorder, giving yourself a hard time for having a hard time. It’s especially unnecessary given the fact that it’s harder to find someone with complete control over unhealthy food impulses than it is to find a unicorn.
Almost everyone has trouble controlling eating habits, as evidenced, not just by the multi-billion dollar industry devoted to weight management (which, as you’ve discovered, is no silver bullet), but by the fact that very few people get permanent weight control without surgery. In reality, of course, as much as we try to control our weight, more often, it controls us. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on November 26, 2012
If you suffer from anxiety and depression, you know they’re like your own mental Statler and Waldorf, the two Muppet balcony hecklers, except less cute and more evil, spewing criticism that impairs your ability to feel confident and make decisions. Even when they don’t prevent you from achieving significant accomplishments, anxiety and/or depression make you believe you didn’t do as well as you should have. So, if you suffer from anxiety, learn how to tune out its constant negative chatter, or, even better, be proud of your ability to go on with the show.
–Dr. Lastname
I’m 37 years old, nearly 38. I’m undecided on whether or not to have a child. My mother died 12 years ago and I’ve been in and out of depression ever since. I definitely have a lot to be grateful for, but a lot of times I feel like I just can’t go on—the sadness and loss are still unbearable. The other thing is that I have been dealing with very bad insomnia since my mom’s death, which also makes life very difficult. I haven’t had a lot of long-term relationships but I’m in one now and it’s been 2 years. The relationship is good and he is a good man, but I’ve never had that feeling of “knowing” if he’s the right person/life long partner. There’s always something missing for me and I suppose it’s from the loss of my mom, and the reason I usually end up breaking up with boyfriends. I don’t want to keep that pattern going as I’ll end up alone. Because of my age I feel like time is of the essence and I need to make a decision—on my relationship and having a baby. I have always thought that I would have a child and I am a loving/giving person and love kids, but it’s so hard to take care of myself sometimes, I wonder if it’s right for me to me to have one. My partner wants kids (he would be a wonderful father) and I told him I’m not ready yet, but will I ever be? My goal is to come to a decision and be at peace with it.
You’ve had more than your share of pain in life, so it’s understandable that the things that should make you feel happiness, like a good relationship, are buried by exhaustion and a lingering sense of pain and loss.
Your pain hasn’t distracted you, however, from the fact that certain things make life meaningful, even when the joy they inspire doesn’t register. Apparently, two of those things for you are raising kids and having a relationship, which matter to you despite knowing that you’ll sometimes be unable to function or feel anything other than misery.
If that’s what’s meaningful to you, don’t ask yourself whether motherhood or marriage will make you happy, whether your feelings will ever be normal, or whether you’ll always be able to function as a parent. Unfortunately, it’s not your lot in life to have normal expectations about feelings or function. That doesn’t mean, however, that you can’t achieve normal goals if you’re prepared to make realistic adjustments. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on November 12, 2012
The problem with drug addiction isn’t just the physical toll of chemical dependency (although that’s problematic, to say the least). On top of the negative effect drugs have on your body, there’s the corrosive effect addiction has on your morality and judgment, which means damage to both body and spirit. It’s addiction’s endless quest for feeling good, despite doing bad things to self and others, that turns you into a bad person. So don’t think that quitting is just a matter of quitting; it also requires getting stronger and caring more about who you are, so being good means more than feeling good ever could.
–Dr. Lastname
My husband never credits me for the way I try to stay sober, he just focuses on the things I do wrong. He claims I trash his things when I’m drunk, and maybe I do, but I love him and I can’t stand the way he’s always angry at me, because his anger makes it very hard for me to get sober. He says I’m always lying but it’s just that I can’t stop myself from saying whatever will stop him from getting angry. My goal is to stop drinking, of course, and I do better when he’s away, but I don’t see how I can do it when he’s around and always angry.
As understandable as it is to care deeply about how your spouse feels about you, it’s dangerous to care more about such feelings than about what’s right or wrong in what you’re doing. In other words, while you may want him to be happy with you, trashing his things isn’t likely to get that result.
That behavior would cause most people to think, not that you’re a caring wife, but a terrible drunk who does bad things to your husband when you’re under the influence. At the same time, you’re more upset about the pain you feel from his anger than about the way your drinking hurts him or compromises your pride in yourself.
Lying and drinking are quick, irresistible reflexes for avoiding pain. Unfortunately, they often make life more painful, which leads to more lying and drinking. In the end, your drinking isn’t your biggest problem; it’s the way drinking has damaged your character. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on November 8, 2012
Although stopping long-term intensive psychotherapy can leave you in a state of mourning and fear, particularly if it occurs during tough times or against your wishes, it’s unrealistic to expect that returning to therapy will make everything right again. Instead, give yourself time to adjust to change and reassess your ability to stay functional and positive. Then, if you think it’s necessary, find a therapist who’s a good, supportive coach and use him or her for a different kind of therapy that keeps your head straight without stirring up your deeper feelings. If you’re certain that you have to be “in therapy” to get helpful support and are helpless without it, then the therapy you’re in is helping you a lot less than you think.
–Dr. Lastname
In my early 20s I spent 4 years in therapy (which I think in and of itself says a whole lot about the not good place I was in my head). Therapy ended, not because I was ready, but because I moved. I am now 46, and in the years since I continued to work through a lot of things on my own, with my therapist’s voice in my head, if no longer in actual therapy sessions. In January my grandmother took a turn for the worse, with both health and cognition, and we had to place her in full nursing care. She has always been one of the most influential and positive forces in my life, so I had a hard time dealing with this. It sent me spiraling down into my 4th lifetime episode of depression. I’ve started back on Prozac, which I now realize I need to stay on for the rest of my life to try to prevent future recurrences, and I’ve spent the last 10 months in therapy with my former therapist via phone sessions as we now live 1,000 miles apart. I have finished working through a lot of stuff in that time, meaning I’ve changed my attitudes and perceptions and behaviors, which has changed my life, inner and outer. I wish I’d figured it out 25 years ago, during that first round of therapy, but better late than never. It’s been a hard year. My grandmother died 7 weeks ago. The grief hit me more than I ever imagined. I thought I’d prepared in those months when she was slowly dying, but I was wrong. What is the saying—Where there is no struggle, there is no strength? Good growth has come of the pain—I have returned to college, and I am training for my first full marathon in January. I am at a truly good place in my head and was ready to end therapy, so two weeks ago, with my therapist’s blessing, I had my last session. I knew, though, that ending therapy because I am truly ready is a celebration, but that it would also be a loss. It is currently hitting me harder than I imagined. How do I get through this and find a place of healthy acceptance of this transition?
While it’s unfortunate that stopping intensive psychotherapy after many years is hitting you hard, it’s not surprising. As you well know, loss is painful, be it the death of a loved one or the end of a source of support.
That said, your pain doesn’t mean your psychotherapy has been less complete than you thought or that you stopped it too soon, just that you can be a solid, resilient person and also be very sensitive to loss, both because of temperament and circumstances. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on November 1, 2012
When a severe disappointment breaks you down, the pain is nothing compared to the damage done to the way you see yourself and your world. If despair sweeps away your most important values and relationships, it may leave loved ones with no way to help or save you from yourself, making repairs impossible. If, on the other hand, you retain some perspective and a sense of humor, you can fight the negative thoughts that flood your brain, regain respect for your own resources, accept the help that others offer, and rebuild yourself into someone better than before.
–Dr. Lastname
I have really fond memories of my mother until I was eleven, at which point she became a drunk. Before then, she was really happy and loving and had lots of friends, but my father later explained to me that she lost a job she was very attached to, felt it was unfair, and became very bitter. My father loved her and did everything to help her, but she didn’t seem to care, even though the worse she did, the more she hated herself. He finally gave up, left, and took us kids with him because she couldn’t care for us. Recently (about 15 years later) I heard she tried to kill herself with alcohol and almost succeeded. I’ve been angry at her, because we were once close and I tried to help her, but now I’m afraid she’ll die and I still can’t understand how someone as nice and loving as she used to be could drink herself to death with so many people around her who love her. My goal is to find some peace between us before or after her death.
Alcoholism, like severe mental illness, sometimes lets people develop nice, warm personalities and rich lives before it declares itself. Out of nowhere, it changes the way their brains process information and feeling, and turns them into self-absorbed ghosts of who they used to be.
The mother you remember may well deserve your respect, but she vanished after disappointment triggered her addiction, making her incapable of loving others or saving herself. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on October 15, 2012
Many people think you shouldn’t leave a marriage until your feelings tell you you absolutely can’t stand it anymore. Given the fact, however, that marriage either impacts kids, your ability to have kids, or both, there are good reasons for leaving a marriage that have nothing to do with hurt feelings, failed love, and/or whatever your internal emotional barometer indicates. If you went into marriage thinking more in terms of partnership and less in terms of passion, you wouldn’t have to worry as much about how much you stand because you’d know what you should and shouldn’t stand, which means you’d know for certain if it’s really time to go.
–Dr. Lastname
I’m determined to leave my marriage because my husband has gone psycho on me twice, literally—he had to be hospitalized, and when the doctors told us he’s paranoid and has mood swings, he didn’t believe them. He doesn’t remember his violent outbursts, won’t get help, and thinks everything is my fault. So I’m about to have divorce papers served on him, and since that’s the last thing he wants (and he doesn’t even really understand what he’s done wrong), I feel bad about hurting him and creepy about not telling him in advance that this is going to happen. I can just hear him telling me that he loves me and we need to learn to communicate. At least I should explain to him that I can’t go on like this, living with someone who can get violent and crazy. My goal is to not hurt him unnecessarily or get his craziness stirred up.
Given the divorce rate, it would probably be a good idea to let marriage vows include some opt-out clauses, i.e., after “‘til death do us part,” insert “or ‘til one of us joins a cult, becomes a vegan, or goes totally psychotic” (“literally”).
Since your vows of eternal love were made at a time of boundless optimism (and no vow qualifications), now is the first time you’re forced to reconcile your moral and ethical priorities with the harsh unfairness of real life.
Given your husband’s issues, you have to ask yourself how much good you do by staying with someone who has lost the ability to benefit from your presence, and vice versa. Sure, you do benefit your husband as a financial provider or an anchor to whom he is greatly attached but cannot really recognize, but if you wanted a relationship like that, you wouldn’t have committed to a marriage, but to a cat. WAIT! There is more to read… read on »
Posted by fxckfeelings on October 8, 2012
Giving up on love is supposed to be a bad thing, but that’s in a world where love is always precious and beautiful, not potentially destructive and ugly. There are lots of things you love and can’t and/or shouldn’t have, and others that you can have but at an unacceptable price. The real achievement is not gaining what you love, but knowing when it’s not worth it and not losing faith entirely when you must give it up. Giving up on love isn’t always a bad thing, but giving up on delusional notions about love is always a good idea.
–Dr. Lastname
My boyfriend is a really nice guy, but for reasons that I don’t understand, I just don’t love him anymore. He says he wants us to be friends, and that’d be OK with me if he wasn’t obviously still in love with me. It’s always awkward, getting a call from him every day, and knowing he’s really waiting for my response when he emails me, that makes me very uncomfortable. If he comes by, I know he’s looking for signs that I’m seeing someone else. I know it bothers him if I tell him we can’t get together. He doesn’t press me, but I see the pain in his eyes. I feel guilty because I care about him and want to be friends, but I’d be a lot more comfortable not seeing him. I feel guilty about dumping him—he really doesn’t deserve it—but I can’t seem to find a way to stop hurting him, which is what my goal is.
One of the many risks of falling in love, besides in-laws and herpes, is falling for someone who doesn’t love you back. At that point, you technically have two choices—not seeing them, or seeing them and knowing they don’t love you—but really one option, and that is, to feel like absolute shit.
I assume you loved your boyfriend initially, so you’re not guilty of playing with his feelings, just ceasing to return them. That’s why it’s hard not to feel guilty and responsible for this impossibly painful situation, particularly if you’re former love-partner can’t let go and pleads with you for relief, not knowing he’s actually making himself feel worse (and dragging you down with him).
What you have to remember is that you didn’t write the book of love, so you’re not responsible for the way love’s bonds form and fracture. Knowing what you know, however, you are responsible for doing your best to protect yourself and others from getting hurt. That’s why you go slow in making or inviting commitment, and try not to let the thrill of falling in love or the excitement of sex determine your decisions. That’s also why you want to be a good friend to him, although the best way to do that is by cutting him off, at least for now.
Your boyfriend tells you that it hurts less if he gets to see you, but you know he’s saying that because of immediate need, not long-term vision. Trust your own observations as you ask yourself whether contact with you is doing more good than harm to either of you. Remember, the issue isn’t whether he feels much better after seeing you, but whether, with time, he shows signs of letting go and moving on. What you observe likely jibes with your experience of what usually happens; he’s hanging on, and continued contact prolongs his agony while providing temporary relief.
If that’s the case—and you must trust your own judgment in this—good friends say good-bye. Make it clear you’re not rejecting him or expressing anger or disrespect; you’re simply doing what you think is necessary and that you have more confidence in your own judgment in this situation than in his. He might get angry or hate you for a bit, and while being hated feels pretty bad, it’s the first step to getting over you, which is good for everyone.
It’s sad that you can’t protect him from hurt, but that’s not something you control or should feel guilty about. All you can do is manage the damage as well as you can and enjoy your two less-shitty choices; learning from this experience or falling in love again without a net, risking more guilt, herpes, or worse.
STATEMENT:
“I feel guilty denying friendship to a guy I’ve hurt for no good reason and like very much, but I know his feelings are too strong to allow us to be friends and that I’m the one who must force the break-up that will allow him to move on.”
I’ve had some success as an actor and I love acting, but I’m turning 40 and I haven’t been getting any callbacks recently. My wife is very supportive, and my day job isn’t bad, but we’re always short of cash and there really isn’t enough money for all the things our kids are starting to need. I’ve got to decide whether it’s worth continuing to try to do the work I love or give up and get serious about a “real life” career. It’s depressing, but my goal is to decide.
Never believe that graduation speech bullshit about how everyone is supposed to wind up doing a job they love; maybe that happens in some fair world, but not in this one. What that graduation bloviater should have said is that doing something you love for a living is wonderful, but it’s a treat that most people don’t get to experience, except sometimes and part-time.
Given that sad fact, of course you should have pursued the possibility of an acting career and done your best to get trained, prepare for auditions, and experience rejection as almost no non-performer ever experiences it…which appears to be what you did. As an actor-survivor, you must have balls of steel.
Your goal, however, is not to pursue acting till you drop; it’s to act if you can, while respecting your other priorities, which, in your case, include partnership and parenthood. It’s natural to define success in terms of acting—getting jobs/paid, critical acclaim, and the pleasure of doing it—but it’s a much more significant success, (as well as being more frustrating and painful), to balance the pull and obsession of an acting career with your other priorities and make the compromises that fit with your values.
You’re asking yourself the right questions and now it’s time to weigh your options. On the one hand, add up your love for acting, and on the other hand, the likelihood of its providing you with a living, the time to be a parent, and your own needs for other things, like security and vacations. At some point, if time is running out and your acting prospects aren’t too hot, the time for tough decisions arrives.
Don’t scare yourself by saying “that’s the death of my dream,” or, “now I have to admit to myself that I’ve failed.” Your feelings may feed that kind of negative spiral, but your job is to know better and remind yourself that you have more than one dream, that you’ve done your best to pursue them all, and that the only control you have in life, other than trying your best, is to make hard choices realistically. That may not be how fan magazines or graduation speakers define success, but that’s the grown-up definition.
STATEMENT:
“I hate backing away from acting and I’m scared that will be the end of my career, but life is short, money is tight, and I’ve got other priorities. What makes me a responsible parent and partner is that I’m ready to make tough decisions and, if they hurt, I can take it.”
