I think my girlfriend is basically committed to me (after 4 years of our having a steady relationship, despite living in different cities). After much backing-and-filling and hemming-and-hawing, she introduced me to her 3 kids and her ex. The problem, I think, is that her ex-husband is an evil drama-monster who bludgeoned her with tantrums, legal threats, and ultimatums until she would do anything to appease him. It makes her a total wuss with the kids and interferes with her availability for our relationship. That makes me push her sometimes, which makes her jump like she’s been scalded and trapped between two powerful, demanding masters. I don’t think she’s into dominant men any more (at least, I don’t see myself as one), but my goal is to help her resist her evil ex without making her feel she’s doing it to appease me.

No matter how nice your girlfriend is, if she’s over-reactive to an evil ex, you can find yourself getting irritated, worried, and sometimes outraged. You’re sorry she has trouble setting limits with the guy, but you sure don’t want him to control your life.

If she doesn’t learn how to manage him and the feelings he stirs up in her, however, that’s what will happen, and your relationship will be riddled with the drama you’re both trying to avoid (and also become very crowded).

That doesn’t mean, of course, that she loves him more than you; he just has the power to make her more frightened or guilty than you do, because he isn’t as “nice”, and she doesn’t know what to do with those feelings other than appease him.

Of course, that may tempt you to fight back by showing her that you’re just as good at making her feel bad, which would turn you into a chair-slinger in someone else’s soap opera (as well as something of a jerk), and it’s clear you’re not letting that happen. That doesn’t mean you’re doomed to a relationship with him if you want a relationship with her.

Your best weapon is the same one we use as shrinks (and the one you seem to be using now); coach her to see a better, though not comfortable, alternative, urging her to use a lawyer to figure out when she can say “no” and what to say to her ex and kids if they attack her for being mean or unreasonable. Support her in doing what she believes is right and what will work out better, rather than in doing what will make you happy or her less stressed. Odds are, if an action is right and reasonable, it’s guaranteed to make her ex pounce.

Continue to offer her your positive perspective; she’s a good woman who has done her job as a mother and can do a better job by learning to say no. In doing so, her best therapist is her lawyer (used not for venting feelings, but for information about standards and consequences).

If she can’t make progress with that approach, then the package is what it is, and you’ll need to take it or leave it. What seems to be happening, however, is that she’s getting tougher, in part because you know how to keep a lid on your negative feelings while giving good advice. Her ex puts a burden on your life, but he doesn’t control it, and he doesn’t have to ruin the life you and your girlfriend share.

STATEMENT:
“My girlfriend’s wussiness about her ex drives me crazy, but I know she’s a good, responsible person who’s come a long way in learning how to take a stand. It’s been frustrating, and often feels like work, but I’ve done a good job managing my anger, she’s doing better at managing her fear, and we both continue to feel the relationship is worth it.”

My ex-husband has the divorce court judge in his pocket and it’s driving me crazy. Regardless of our divorce agreement, he takes me back to court every year for additional money for our daughter’s residential treatment (she has as addiction problems), and the judge buys his story in spite of its being full of lies and bullshit. He says I have money I don’t have—I can no longer afford a lawyer. He wants me to pay for a fancy, private facility that won’t take our insurance when there’s a good one in our insurance company’s network. As a recovering alcoholic myself, I want my daughter to get treatment as much as my husband does, but what I really want is for that judge to know how wrong he is to think I’m a skinflint and allow my ex to torture me year after year.

Unless you grew up with parents who were always fair and unbiased, you know there’s a real danger in expecting justice. The more justified you are in feeling screwed by the judge/parent, the bigger the danger.

Yes, you’d hope that expressions of injured innocence would get him/her to reconsider and, in a fair world, that’s what would happen. In this world, however, expressing negative feelings about a judge’s judgment usually makes the judge feel attacked and insecure, particularly if you’re angry and right. Not only does justice does not ensue, your hole gets deeper, as does your injury, anger, and tendency to make more trouble for yourself.

If your ex-husband is an Asshole (readers of this blog understand that I use this term diagnostically, and not pejoratively), he truly believes he’s a righteous defender of the weak, so it’s not hard to see why a judge who doesn’t know him would be taken in. If you then attack him, you’ll look like the angry girl your ex says you are.

So put the same lid on venting outrage as you do on alcohol; stay sober, and stay quiet. Remember, keeping negative feelings inside is not nearly as bad as letting them out in front of the wrong audience.

Now that you’re ready to eat your shit sandwich—cry if you must, but please don’t bring it up again—you’re ready to say something positive about your own plan for your daughter. Namely, that you want her to get help as much as your ex does, but you expect her to need help for a long time and you’re trying to save money now, because she’ll need it later. That’s why you’re trying to save on legal bills and don’t want to pay for the best intervention program when the difference between best and good is not worth it.

Don’t get distracted by the judge’s willingness to believe you’re a bad, stingy parent and don’t defend yourself by attacking his judgment or the unfairness of being dragged back into court. Stay on message: talk about your concern for your daughter and your belief in the advantages of your plan.

Given time and no attacks from you, the judge will probably catch on to your Asshole husband’s bullshit, particularly if you stick to your agenda and don’t push his buttons. You might not get perfect justice, but you’ll get a good feeling of pride for having expressed yourself as a caring mother, without getting screwed by him and your old negative feelings.

STATEMENT:
“It’s horrible to feel I can be dragged back into court at any time, to be judged by someone who believes I’m an asshole no matter what I say or do, but that’s life. I know I’m ready to do right by my daughter and that I’ve got a good plan. Beyond that, I don’t control.”

Is the habit of procrastination a reality that cannot be changed, or not? I often find myself procrastinating so long that something I feel I want to do or should be doing is no longer possible to do. Then I feel terrible about myself and berate myself. Should I give up those dreams/things I want to do or should I plug on and do the best I can, hoping that I can overcome procrastination enough to actually accomplish a few things?

Berating yourself whenever any bad habit gets the better of you can make you feel weak, angry, hopeless, etc. The one thing it can’t do is make that habit go away.

On the plus side, your frustration shows that you care about doing better, but self-blame leaves you feeling weak, angry, hopeless, etc., which makes it harder for you to get out of your chair and start catching up.

While logic dictates that finding the source of a problem will lead you to the solution, trying to find out why you procrastinate doesn’t usually help. For one (deliciously ironic) thing, it gives you a reason to avoid doing what you need to do.

Sure, you can tell yourself you’re working on the problem and that you’ll get going when you finally feel more energetic. Unfortunately, figuring things out doesn’t usually give you that energy, just insight, and insight won’t get your ass in gear.

It could be that many people procrastinate because their brains aren’t very good at self-starting, even when they’re quite motivated; look at how many people run out of gas after they retire, with no schedule or manager to tell them what to do and when to do it. Most of us rely on our families, financial pressures, and work obligations to give us structure.

So you can try to find where your bad habits started, or you can accept that procrastination is like over-eating, over-drinking, or any number of guilt-inducing behaviors; it’s remarkably common, you assume you should be able to control it, and yet it’s remarkably hard to control. Then again, if it was so easy to control, there wouldn’t be such a remarkable number of people with the same problem.

Admitting that you’ve got the problem and accepting the fact that you’re stuck with it is probably the first step (as in AA) to recovery. Once you’ve stopped waiting until you feel better and realize you’ve got to work with what you’ve got, you’re sufficiently desperate to shove aside your shame and ask for help. At that point, you will discover lots of other nice people with the same problem, some of whom are willing to offer you help and guidance. They’ll help you get over insight and get practical.

Otherwise, there are a few simple things you can do to work around your problem, like asking a friend to come over and watch you get a specific job done. S/he doesn’t have to nag or provide direct help; just by standing around, expecting you to start working, and not being distracting, s/he may have given you the necessary structure.

If you think procrastination is a big enough problem, ‘fess up and go to work on it. It won’t be easy, and you won’t always get the better of it, but you will gain the confidence that comes with knowing you’re doing the best with what you’ve got. So, first and foremost, don’t blame yourself and don’t give up. And don’t keep putting off following this advice.

STATEMENT:
“I hate myself for not keeping my commitments, but there’s no point in kicking myself for a weakness I can’t control. I may not have the strength to overcome it without losing my pride, but I will take pride in shaming myself if that’s what’s necessary to get stronger.”

I don’t see why my wife doesn’t try harder to recover from her stroke. It’s been 3 years since she was paralyzed and she made an almost perfect recovery. She’s got back all her old intelligence, wit and charm. Her balance is off, but, with the help of a good physiotherapist, she’s recovered the strength in her legs. What bugs me is that she likes to stay in her room and do very little. She’s not depressed, but she won’t do her exercises and her legs are starting to lose their strength. She’s happy as a clam as long as she doesn’t have to leave her room except to go to the bathroom. She’s nasty with me, because I keep on pushing her to get up and come down stairs. I don’t know what’s happened to her motivation or why she’s irritable. My goal is to help her recover and get our old life back.

We all know the way recovery from a debilitating injury is supposed to work, at least according to stage and screen; a strong, determined physiotherapist or friend or partner imposes a positive regimen of activity and exercise, refuses to take no for an answer, demonstrates results, and restores a patient’s hope and confidence. Everyone walks away with their lives feeling affirmed, roll credits.

This expectation can cause a shitload of trouble, however, if a patient’s brain injury damages their ability to motivate and organize themselves. Yes, it can happen, and often does, and when it does the patient gets blamed for being a quitter. Family relationships turn ugly and everyone feels like a loser. That’s the dangerous, feel-bad side effect of physiotherapy.

Yes, it’s possible that your wife is depressed or phobic, and that a structured behavioral program, and maybe some medication, could help her get over the hump. You describe her, however, as happy to veg in her room and untroubled by her limited mobility, so I suspect that, after 3 years, she’s not going to budge or agree to a tougher rehabilitative program with a psychiatric evaluation. She is who she is, and it’s not who she used to be.

If you want to improve your relationship and restore the old camaraderie, give up on your other dreams. You can’t have them, and you can’t blame her for not living up to them. You can still encourage her to walk, but don’t expect a hike. Enjoy the part of her personality that returned, mourn the part that didn’t, and keep your sorrow to yourself.

Strokes are horrible–you lose a precious part of someone you love–but you can’t show your sadness, because you’re trying to make them feel good about what they’ve recovered. Recovery is a two-way street; she’s got to try to get back to her old self, and you have to learn to accept her new self.

As a good and loyal husband, accept your loss, turn in your certificate as a rehab trainer, and enjoy spending time with the person she’s become. In real life, an outcome that’s less-than-miraculous can still be a happy ending.

STATEMENT:
“I miss the part of my wife, and life, that I lost to her stroke, and I hate giving up, but I’m proud of what I’ve done to help her recover and I think she’s done her best, given the changes in her brain that hold her back. I will show that pride when we’re together, while becoming more independent about the parts of my life she can no longer share.”

I’m a 22-year-old who is coming out of a pretty rough emotional patch. I got into a bad habit of leaning on a male friend, being a complete needy, co-dependent mess with a guy who is a pretty heavy drinker and, you guessed it, a needy, co-dependent mess. Well. Now I’ve sobered up and tried to develop some space between us, and he’s not taking it well. He drunk-dials me at least once a week, and leaves these crazy, rambling, needy voicemails. (I moved away a while back, and he keeps pushing me to make plans to meet up.) I basically want to cut him out of my life altogether, because I really think he’s bad for me. But he was there for me—albeit in a f*cked up way—when I was a mess. Does dropping him make me a bitch?

There are two sides to every sin; for example, murder is evil while manslaughter is just really unfortunate. The same is true for good deeds, and fidelity, while less deadly (hopefully), works much the same way.

There’s a bad kind of fidelity based on feelings and a good one based on what you think is right. The bad one is a gut-level sense of obligation you feel towards anyone you’ve shared a bed or bread or booze with, who cries out to you in need and expects you to respond.

It’s some kind of basic nervous system bonding that disregards whether you’ve already done your share, whether the other guy can actually make use of your help (or will just need more and more), or whether you have a right to weigh his needs against other priorities, like finding a relationship with a guy who can occasionally walk in a straight line.

Now, if you were judging the conduct of a friend, you’d probably say that you’ve done all you can, but until he stops drinking, you can’t offer much more. He may see you as dumping him, but what you’re dumping is not him, but his alcoholism. You might like him better if he got a grip and got sober, but you won’t know unless he does.

However, since you’re not using the rational side of your mind, leaving him makes you feel like a bitch and you need someone to tell you you’re not. Instead, you’re getting someone who will tell you to think for yourself.

Don’t ask anyone else for that kind of reassurance, not even (or especially) over the internet. Learn to give it to yourself, because your values are fine. You could confidently advise a friend, so stand by what you know and give yourself the same advice you would give anyone else.

Yes, you’ll still feel like a bitch because feelings are feelings. If your goal is not to feel guilty, have a drink (which will eventually make you feel even more guilty, so you see our point).

On the other hand, if your goal is to be your own woman and give yourself the right to weigh moral priorities without having to please or appease, then suck it up and do what you think is right. Until he stops drinking, he’s dead weight to you, so drop away. If he picks himself up, then you can, too.

STATEMENT:
“I hate to feel like I’m causing pain to someone who has been good to me, but I’m tired of being manipulated by guilt and other people’s needs and I have a right to say “enough” when I’ve done my share and want to move on. I’ve learned how to stop drinking and I’m ready for the next level of sobriety, which is to tolerate the guilt of feeling responsible without giving into it.”

My mood is never great, but I’ve survived divorce (my wife decided she liked someone else) and been a responsible dad and I was looking forward to being a grandfather when my middle son, who’s never been too happy, told me our relationship sucked and he didn’t have much hope for it unless I went into therapy. He had some names of spiritual therapists and told me, if I was really serious about making our relationship better and becoming a good grandfather, I should see them. Of course, I’d do anything for our relationship, but this whole thing makes me feel depressed and paralyzed. What should I do if my goal is to hang on to my son?

Kids come first, but that doesn’t justify turning off your own judgment. Which is what you did the minute you heard the words “spiritual therapists” and didn’t giggle out loud.

You don’t have to read my advice (though it helps) to know that you’re not supposed to accept criticism uncritically; otherwise you’re handing out keys to your self-esteem to every overbearing and unhappy jackass you meet, whether or not they’re your spawn. You’re supposed to consider accusations carefully and decide for yourself whether there’s really something you could have and should have done better before deciding whether to apologize and take responsibility for doing better.

What may have hurt your son is something you don’t control, and that includes the personality that the good lord gave you. He may have grown up happier with another dad, but you may have been happier with another son, and we all might be happier with a prehensile tail. Too bad, life is hard, and the only question to ask yourself is whether you managed your faults as well as you could and took care of your son’s basic needs, including safety.

Let’s assume that, after considering his criticism, there’s something you want to improve. Then choose someone who you think can help you do the job; don’t accept your son’s recommendation because you want to please him or prove something, but because you think it’s a good idea.

Regardless of what you decide, there’s a lesson you can teach your son. It’s not just that you’re flexible or that, no matter what he thinks, you really love him; it’s that you have confidence in your love for him, regardless of what he thinks, and that you can have a positive relationship in spite of obvious and painful flaws that you would gladly remove if you could, but can’t. He can call it spiritual if he wants, but you’re calling it like it is.

STATEMENT:
“Nothing makes me feel more like a loser than having my kid tell me I was a bad dad, but I know I wasn’t that bad (I got better reviews from the other kids) and I’m not bad now. I’ll accept responsibility for mistakes I control; for the rest of it, I love him and think our lives will be better if we have a relationship, even if it requires us to bear some pain. The choice is his.”

A lot of your responses seminal components point to having the questioners turn their attention to their ‘values.’ Can you please elucidate a bit on how you define said values with regards to the context you utilize said term, as well as how to go about developing such a core set of values when one feels that he or she has none?

Values are whatever make you feel like a good person, aside from just feeling good because you’re feeling good (e.g. by enjoying what you’re doing, or having a good talk, or getting good feedback, or just being lucky).

In other words, there are lots of perfectly constructive ways to feel good that aren’t bad for your health, but they’re like a sunny day. They represent good luck, which means you don’t control them, and if you make it your goal to feel good, it’s like giving yourself responsibility for good weather. You’ll be sorry (and I’ll be working).

Values, on the other hand, have nothing to do with your luck and are under your control, because you can always try to do something you think is worth doing, whether you get it done or not.

They include treating other people decently, being self-supporting, doing your share, and taking some responsibility for the people who are closest to you. In other words, trying to be a good person. Values aren’t reactive to how you feel or how you’re treated.

You may follow those values because you think that’s the way to get to heaven or get someone (e.g., Jesus, your partner, your shrink) to love you. Usually, however, life messes with people who do good because they expect a reward, even if they just expect to be treated fairly. When bad luck falls on such people—and it’s an equal opportunity enterprise—they lose their faith, because they never really had it.

Some people would say you don’t have to believe in a deity to have values, while others would say that’s what religion is: values that you believe in simply because that’s your idea of making the world better and becoming a person you respect. Other people (like myself) say to do whatever works.

That said, don’t assume you lack values because you’re an atheist, or because you’re depressed or self-critical or don’t like what you’ve done. Assess your values by asking yourself whether you try to do a good day’s work, or be a good friend or son or daughter, and care about such things in the first place.

If you truly don’t have values, then you probably wouldn’t care enough to write in and ask and you’d be sure your values are great and other people’s stink. Instead, you wrote in because you question yourself, which is a decision worth feeling good about.

STATEMENT:
“I may feel like I’m not attached to people and make no effort to make the world a better place, but I have values if I try to do a good job or keep promises or be a good friend. When everything is going badly, knowing I’ve lived up to my values is the surest comfort I can have.”

I don’t understand my husband or his family. I can understand that he feels I’m boring and that he can’t help the fact that he no longer loves me. But I don’t see why that gives him a right to leave me with the kids, go out in the evenings, come home drunk, and contribute to the mortgage when he feels like it. Sooner or later he’s going to get caught driving drunk. Meanwhile, he treats me as if I’m a drag to be around and encourages the kids to see me the same way. I’ve asked his parents to speak to him, but they think his drinking is normal and tell me they don’t want to get involved. My goal is to find some way to get my husband to see he’s putting himself in danger and hurting our family.

When you’re faithful to your partnership and your partner isn’t, the result often isn’t good for anyone. Your values are good—fidelity, reliability, sobriety, paying your bills—but, in certain situations, they can cause harm, and this may be one of those situations.

Go back to your reasons for getting married, aside from the love, lust, romance, and subscription to Martha Stewart Weddings.” You assume that a partner will do his part, especially when it comes to money, safety, and parenting. If not, things get tougher for you and the kids, and your hard work supports his bad behavior, which isn’t doing him a favor.

Looking back, you might change your wedding vows, promising to stick with him through thick and thin, work hard, and do your best, contingent on his doing the same. Then again, you probably said, “I take this man,” not, “I take this asshole,” but an asshole is what you got.

As asshole, of course, is someone without good values who is, in his/her opinion, entirely without blame. As such, your charming husband might say his vowing was contingent on your staying pretty, attractive, and fun to be with. If he had said that, you would have known what you were getting into.

In any case, you’ve tried hard to save your husband from himself, and it hasn’t worked. Now ask yourself whether, during all your efforts, you’ve seen any sign that your husband feels that he’s been behaving badly. If so, you haven’t described it.

Chances are, then, that he doesn’t share your values, since his idea of the marriage working is that it feels better, and it does when he drinks. Not only can’t you change him, but you can see where this is going.

Your only option is to decide whether you and the family are better off with your being married to him the way he is or being divorced. See a lawyer and find out what you need to know, but according to this doctor, the asshole you were born with is the only one you need.

STATEMENT:
“My instinct is to try to save my husband from himself and keep my marriage intact, but I have to admit that the doesn’t share my values and isn’t going to change. My job now is to figure out what’s best for me and my family.”

I discovered this site after reading Emma Forrest’s book, “Your Voice In My Head” [fxckfeelings.com was cited in the acknowledgments –Dr. Lastname]. I am very young (in high school) and have suffered from anorexia/bulimia for 3 years. I never had a calm childhood, and after being obese I lost half of my body weight through anorexia within half a year, but I gained all of it back by bingeing in not even a few months. I feel like I was not even strong enough to ”stay anorexic’,’ so I became bulimic. Everyday I wake up thinking about how I should die or how long I can keep living with myself, because I despise who I am, and it is becoming unbearable. I truly believe I will never see the light at the end of the tunnel, I will never get out of this and will spend the rest of my life with an eating disorder which has ruined my life. I have no more strength to keep fighting, I have had enough, enough of life. Please help, I am ready to hear anything.

As mental illnesses go, eating disorders are the most parasitic; they literally consume their host in order to thrive, but instead of demanding more food, they feed upon your body and self-worth.

Instead of having a moderate, healthy awareness of your own attractiveness, you’re dealing with a leech that is rarely satisfied with how you look and more often intensely disgusted with the ways you fall short. It would rather wipe you out than live with you ugly (and it always thinks you’re ugly).

If you’re lucky, you’ve got parents who understand your obsessions but have gained an ability to value themselves for who they are, not how they look, that allows them to live with the pain of body-hate or out-of-control eating and/or starving. They then work patiently with you (and likely outside help) to help you regain that perspective.

If you’re unlucky, depressive thoughts and/or out-of control behaviors, driven by genes or childhood experiences that are similar to yours, have pushed your parents into big trouble or divorce, or they’ve pushed you to the point that you can’t accept help from anyone. I hope that’s not your problem, but you’re sure not lucky.

Since you found out about fxckfeelings.com from Ms. Forrest’s book, you know then that the hero of the book is the psychiatrist she found who, in addition to helping her feel better, also gave her perspective about her mood swings and out-of-control behavior. He made it clear that, while there was no cure, it wasn’t her fault, and there were lots of good people who learn to live with these problems and lead good lives. He gave her realistic hope that she’s carried with her, even after his death.

While there’s no guarantee that psychotherapy or medication could help you feel better, at least not immediately, there’s a chance it might. What you can expect, however, if you spend time with someone who has perspective on your problems, is help in fighting your negative thinking and developing a sense of self-worth that doesn’t depend on size, weight, beauty, or being totally in control of your eating behavior.

Don’t get discouraged if counseling hasn’t helped you so far. Look for a good, positive coach with a vision of your value and your future. Don’t settle for less.

If you check out of life because you can’t stand yourself, you’re surrendering to that parasite who both hates you for and thrives on your perceived ugliness. Stand up to it and protect the nice kid who deserves respect, if only for her good literary choices.

STATEMENT:
“I can’t stop the endless self-hate, but I believe that everyone, including me, has a value that doesn’t depend on looks, size, or mouth-control and that, if I select the right friends, supporters, and therapists, I will get stronger.”

I don’t see the point in therapy. I was depressed and suicidal throughout my teenage years, and was often sent to therapists. I was hospitalized several times, once after an overdose and a couple times because I threatened to kill myself if I had to return home. Treatment did absolutely no good. Now I get by, but I don’t trust people and I wouldn’t be surprised if I wind up killing myself, and I don’t really care. What’s your advice?

People who don’t care whether they live or die are often disappointed (it comes with the full depression package). Usually, that disappointment comes from things they can’t help or control, but care a lot about. It can be that they hate their looks or personality (see above), or just want something they can’t have, but either way, that loss and anger become more important than their promises, ideals, or commitments.

Under the right circumstances, disappointed rage can give people courage and scare away opposition; when you have nothing to lose, you’re truly dangerous, to yourself and everyone else. People will often back off and give you what you want, unless they get just as mad or put you in jail. Either way, it’s a lose/lose (either you lose what you want or you lose your dignity/composure/mind).

Right now, your main issue isn’t your depression, but that nobody’s been able to help you do anything about it; I won’t tell you to get help because there’s no help for your disappointment, and you know it. You know that therapy can’t make you feel better, and any promise to the contrary gives you a target for your disappointment (and it’s dangerous to become a target for the kind of rage you’re packing).

The worst thing about your rage is that it makes you right; you attack people who disappoint you and they act more like jerks, which confirms your disappointment, so you feel justified in giving them more, and they give you back more to hate and despite. It’s a vicious cycle that feeds your self-righteousness while destroying your chances for improvement.

Ask yourself, though, if there’s anything more important to you than your disappointment and the confidence that it brings. Ask if there is anything worth doing or anyone worth caring for, or if you value helping people, being independent or making the world better. If so, ask if pursuing your values is worth keeping your disappointment, and rage, to yourself.

If there is something more important to you than disappointment, then you may want to learn how to keep it from turning you into a monster who loves to stomp on small cities, friends, and yourself. Restraint hurts, but it can be learned, if you want to learn it. First, though, you must decide whether it’s worth it.

I doubt that anyone can help you feel better if you continue to draw strength from your rage at their perceived incompetence. If you decide that life is worth living anyway, there are lots of people, including some therapists, who can help you be decent to yourself and others.

For now, start at square one and accept that life is unfair, dealing with mental illness is hard work, and you’re not big on luck. Don’t get mad, get over it, and then get on with the slow process of feeling a little better.

STATEMENT:
“I feel stronger when I’m attacking my enemies, and I’ve got good reason to attack them, but I won’t allow my enemies to become more important to me than my beliefs in what I should do to be a good person. However much I fear or hate them, I’ll try to focus on ignoring them and giving my own life meaning.”

I hate it when my husband and I squabble over something stupid, and then he falls silent and stops communicating, and it’s like he’s left the room. It drives me crazy. It’s true, I’m not thrilled about doing his bidding when I don’t have the time, or when his requests don’t make any sense, but if he let me know how important it is to him instead of sulking, I’m sure I would do it and then we wouldn’t have to go through this pain. My goal is to get him to communicate better.

If you’re the sort of person who can’t stand it when someone you love is angry and silent, your best mate might be a parrot.

You may try to find ways to help your beloved and avoid your pain, but don’t. Sometimes, reaching out to angry people will get them to lash out at you because they want a time-out, or it will let them know they can get to you by sulking, so they’ll use silence as a weapon.

Anger sends the same signal from any animal, from human to bear—go away, or stick around at your peril.

Worst of all, pushing an angry person can force them to say things that were better left unsaid. That’s why it’s often better to go to bed angry but quiet, rather than trying to reach a mutual understanding when you’re tired. There are times when it’s important simply to not try to connect.

Besides, you don’t really want to do your husband’s bidding just because he tells you it’s really, really important. Sometimes you’re too tired, or you think it’s his job, or you’re irritated and don’t want to do anything for him. It’s OK to admit you don’t always want to do what your husband asks, just like it’s OK to let him sulk when you feel that way.

Once you admit that, you can stop trying to think up solutions that won’t work and accept the fact that the kind of negative interaction you describe is unavoidable. It’s called marriage. You can’t make it better, but you can make it worse.

Yes, there are some people who are not as sensitive as you are to close-person-withdrawal syndrome—that’s the way they’re built. Either that, or they’ve been married so long, they’ve built up calluses. In any case, your hurt is a fact of neurology and the trait behind it is probably responsible for qualities you value, like sensitivity and attachment.

More important than avoiding hurt is knowing that you will follow you own priorities when your husband asks you to do something, regardless of fearing his disapproval or withdrawal. Either accept that marriage isn’t all “I do”s and “I will”s, or make room for your new winged companion.

STATEMENT:
“I’ll never enjoy it when my husband retreats into his pissed-off cocoon, but he never stays there forever, and I’ve gotten good at changing the subject and pretending that there’s nothing wrong until he comes out of it. I refuse to let my fear of his withdrawal control what I say and do.”

Ever since my stroke left me partially paralyzed 6 months ago, my wife has become ineffective and infantile. I know my illness hasn’t been easy for her, but I’ve got good nursing care and she doesn’t have to wait on me, so there’s no reason for her to look exhausted and complain about the stress of my illness and then run around in circles and not get anything done. I’m going to get an expert to teach her how families of stroke-victims cope with their problems. My goal is to get her to cut the crap.

It’s clear that your stroke hasn’t impaired your moxie, and that’s great. Moxie must be wielded carefully, however, because your wife is also your chief assistant and you won’t get her on a positive track by telling her what she’s doing wrong. For that, you’ve got to start with what she’s doing right.

Having her blame you for her dithering can put you on the defensive, of course, particularly if you feel guilty about the trouble your illness has caused your family. So your first job is to convince yourself that it’s part of her marital job description, and yours, to help out when the other guy gets sick, and that you’re doing your best to rehabilitate yourself, so you have nothing to apologize for and no need to feel responsible for her anxiety.

Then, ask yourself whether your stroke has disrupted her routine and whether she’s relied on a routine to stay organized. If losing her schedule is likely to set her adrift, then she may need as much rehab as you do, and your idea of getting advice from coping-with-stroke experts may be very helpful.

The sad thing, probably, is that there’s no way for tough talk to set your wife straight (it’s more likely to get her dithering faster). If, however, you accept the idea she’s not well equipped to cope with life with a stroke-stricken husband, then you’re ready to do positive things with the girl you got. You can be much more direct about her shortcomings if your emotion isn’t negative.

Remind her that you’re buoyed up by her love and caring, and coach her, or get her some coaching, on how to re-build her routine. Push her to accept her inability to make you better or get back the life you used to have, so you can focus on making the best of the life you have now.

Be positive about your own efforts to regain your independence and suggest that she, too, has a transition to make. You can keep your moxie and your marriage.

STATEMENT:
“It’s no fun watching my wife melt down when I’m the one who should be upset, but we’re still together and I don’t think she can help her reactions much more than I can help how my nervous system behaves. I’ll keep my irritation hidden, if I can, while I remind her about the good things we’ve built together and the positive things she can do when she settles herself down.”

I’ve been very helpful and patient with my husband since he suffered brain damage after being hit by a car, but I’ve just about had it. Everyone in our families focuses on finding a new treatment for him, and we’re all happy that he’s recovered some functions and can now talk and stand up. The trouble is, I’m exhausted, I’ve got no time to go out and make a living, and he’s gotten into the habit of telling me what I’m supposed to do without a please, thank you or may I. My goal is to set him straight and let him know I can’t keep it up at this pace and that he needs to improve his tone.

Setting someone straight when he wants too much from you usually leads to a guilt fest; you make him feel guilty, he guilts you right back, and it’s a regular guiltapalooza.

You wouldn’t be knocking yourself out in the first place if you didn’t feel responsible and, yes, guilty for not doing more. Of course, you may be knocking yourself out doing things that are really, really necessary, but that’s unlikely. Guilt rarely works that way.

Almost always, the #1 reason for exhaustion is that you’re already doing everything you’re asked to do and everything you can think of that could possibly be helpful, regardless of whether they’re likely to help or have been done before, so of course you get tired and cranky and afraid of the limitlessness of the task you’ve accepted for yourself.

If you complain, prepare to feel guiltier, particularly if you seem angry at a hapless victim of brain damage who needs your love and support, which obliges you to do even more and so gooses the RPMs on your vicious-cycle-mobile.

If you’re lucky, your husband will understand your feelings and change his tone, but his brain damage may not let him. And your families may channel their own guilt into expectations about what you’re supposed to do, and so react negatively to your protest like Monday morning homecare quarterbacks.

Instead, consult your own standards about how much a good person should do. Without compromising on your determination to help your husband, question the need for each treatment based on how likely it is to help, how much of an improvement it is over doing something easier, and how well it seems to be working. Ask the doctors how long you need to try a treatment before deciding whether it’s helping, what you should look for, and what you should do if that treatment doesn’t work.

You’re not young, you’ve been married a long time, and you’ve become an expert on his illness; you’re entitled to draw your own conclusions about treatment because you’re in the best position to observe how well your husband responds. You’re the one responsible for the tough decisions, and, while that might seem to be a source of guilt, it also gives you the right to do what you think is best.

So don’t focus too much on his tone of voice or the advice you’re getting from the family. Educate yourself, observe, and make your own decisions. Then you’ll be able to say “no” to your husband when necessary without become negative, either to him and to yourself, and give the guilt fest a rest.

STATEMENT:
“I wish I could do more to help, but we’re stuck with a limited amount of time and, at some point, a level of damage that won’t go away and that we’ll have to learn to live with. It’s bound to get frustrating and you may well want me to do things I can’t do, even though I’d like to if I had more time and energy or good reason to think they could help. Regardless of your frustration, or even criticism, I’ll always do what’s important and we’ll get through this together.”

My wife and I have been depressed lately since we looked at our finances to see when we could retire. A lot of our friends are preparing to retire and spend time with the grandkids. We realized that my wife’s divorce 20 years ago destroyed her savings and my job doesn’t have any retirement or pension plan, so we’re really screwed. It’s clear we don’t have any good prospects for retiring, other than living in a trailer down by the river, and that we’ll be left behind when our friends up and fly south. I should be happy that we’re healthy and like our work, but I’m not. We both made mistakes, and now we’re paying for them.

Modern expectations are a killer when it comes to almost everything associated with happiness: health, sex, money, relationships, and aging. Retirement seems to cover all those bases and more.

TV ads make it seem that you should always get a good result if you work hard, exercise, and buy the right products. Experience, on the other hand, says that life is hard and lots of good, hard-working people don’t control their happiness or ability to reach their “golden years:’ and, if they do, it gets taken away from them without notice.

The answer isn’t to find a guy in the gutter so you can feel thankful for what you’ve got; that’s a dumb idea that will always come back to bite you. If you’re supposed to thank God for your good luck, then you’ve got good reason to complain and feel angry and/or to blame for your load of shit. Never thank God, because he has a wicked sense of humor.

The idea of luck is that you don’t receive it for any reason—it just is—so don’t make believe there’s a good luck fairy you can thank or piss off, or you’ll feel much worse when it’s your turn to suffer. Accept what you don’t control, even if it means trailer living.

Focus on what you do with the shit that comes your way. Baby, you’re not a rich man, but it sounds like you and your wife married well, after a hard start, and that you’ve done well by one another. You haven’t spent money on bad things, and worrying about life hasn’t driven you apart. That’s a major achievement and one to be proud of; prouder than being rich and retired.

If there’s a big difference in income between you and your friends, well, who cares. Soon enough, it will tell you who your real friends are. I’m not saying it doesn’t suck to be working hard when your back hurts and your bladder has declared its independence from central control, but you should never, ever let your hurt affect your pride. Even if you keep working, you can happily retire from petty bullshit.

STATEMENT:
“I don’t want to be working and there’s no reason I should be slaving away when my friends can afford to take it easy; but life was never fair and there’s nothing wrong with the way my wife and I have handled our money. We believe in paying our bills, being independent, and helping others, and that’s what we do. Not being able to retire sucks, but that’s not our department.”

I wish I could be sure that my daughter is getting the right treatment for my grandson. He’s 7-years-old and been diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and his doctor started him on a drug called Abilify, which has some nasty side-effects. I’ve read on the internet that Abilify can be harmful to kids and I wish my daughter and her husband would think twice before allowing themselves to be talked into using it, but I don’t want to intrude into their decision. My goal is to make sure my grandson isn’t harmed.

Never ask someone if they’re sure they know what they’re doing, because if they weren’t sure, you wouldn’t need to ask in the first place.

If you do end up asking your daughter why she’s exposing her son to a dangerous medication, not only will she answer yes, but she’ll give you an annoyed earful as to how she’s doing the right thing, how you don’t know what you’re talking about, and how you should just mind your own business.

She might not know what she’s doing, but neither did you when you opened your mouth.

If you want to talk to your daughter about your concerns, it’s possible, but only if you stay away, not just from provocative questions, but the negative emotions that push them out your mouth.

Instead, follow your usual procedures for conducting a risk-benefit analysis by asking about circumstances that might be endangering your grandson’s safety, and thus justify the Abilify decision.

Ask if she’s worried that he might hurt himself or do some serious damage or if he sounds like his mind is melting down. In other words, ask her the questions that she should be asking herself as a parent responsible for making a difficult decision about her son’s health.

Usually, you’ll find out that something spooky was happening and that no one could think of a treatment other than medication that could make your grandson safe or stop him from having crazy thoughts. So, while it’s bad that he’s in danger and no one can think of a quick, safe treatment, at least the treatment decision makes sense.

That’s the way medication like Abilify is usually used; it’s not prescribed as a safe treatment after doctors have made a definitive diagnosis, but as a not-so-safe treatment that might stop even-more-dangerous symptoms arising from a mental disorder. Definitive diagnoses don’t yet exist for mental illnesses and anybody who tells you differently is trying to sell you something (maybe even some Abilify).

If nothing scary has happened to your grandson, then, yes, you’ve got to wonder why his parents (and a doctor) think a high risk medication is worth trying. At this point, it’s OK to wonder out loud, as long as you don’t imply that someone is being mean, stupid or careless. For example, you could ask your daughter if she thinks the doctor’s worried that something dangerous could happen in the near future if your grandson doesn’t take this drug.

If it turns out your daughter isn’t worried, point out the side effects and ask her if she thinks the risk is worth it. You’re sure you know what you’re doing, and with the right questions, so will your daughter.

STATEMENT:
“My grandson’s treatment seems like dangerous overkill, but I’ll push my fear aside while I ask good, rational questions about their reasons for being worried about his health and safety and offer them a rational model for making tough treatment decisions.”

I’m worried about my son’s drug abuse, but I feel I’ve got no right to speak up about anything in my home. Five years ago, my husband found I was a secret drinker, and since then, he acts like anything I have to say is a stupid lie. I cleaned up my act because I hated the lying and wanted to be a good mother, but I’ve felt like I’m on probation ever since, and it’s hard to speak up. How can I help my son?

One of the worst things about a bad habit, like addictive drinking, is that shame of drinking drives you to drink. As vicious cycles go, it’s quite effective.

Here, you’ve done the hard work of getting sober in spite of the cycle and the shame, and for all the right reasons, but the stigma lingers on and drives you, no longer to drink, but to muzzle yourself when you have good right and reason to speak up.

It’s too bad your husband doesn’t trust you, but that’s no reason not to trust yourself. Of course you can’t be sure that you won’t drink again, but you can be sure that you know a great deal about addiction and that you’ve found the strength to stop for many years now. You deserve credit, and he (and you) would be wise to recognize your strength.

You also have a great deal of wisdom about drinking that you can share with your son, but don’t offer that wisdom via an impassioned plea for sobriety, backed by the authenticity of your personal experience. That’s the kind of pressure that usually turns people off and ends conversations/chances to help.

As noted above, however, you can often talk comfortably about touchy topics if you keep negative emotion to yourself. So, instead of telling him that he’s scaring you or making a mess of his life (as you did), ask him whether he thinks he’s drinking too much and what measures he would use to make that assessment, talking frankly about the measures you used to judge your own situation, which (as you mentioned) were your sense that lying was hurting your marriage and preventing you from being a reliable mother. Those were yours; encourage him to define his.

Just by talking frankly about your own experience, you’re dispelling the shame of drinking. You’re telling him that you don’t disrespect yourself for being a drunk; you’re proud of yourself for what you did with your alcoholism and you’re encouraging him to put aside secrecy and shame and think about where he stands.

Don’t share your emotions, share your process and support, and don’t let shame or your husband hold you back.

STATEMENT:
“I’m worried about my son’s drinking and ashamed of my own; but I know I can’t control his drinking and sharing my feelings will make it worse. Instead, I’ll try to teach him how to think about his drinking, assess its impact on his life, and make his own decisions about it. To do that, in spite of how I really feel, would be amazing.”

When my ex-husband and I shared a life together, we also shared a drinking problem. After a decade of marriage and 3 kids, we divorced, and I got sober. Now, another decade later, the kids are grown and they have a hard time with their dad, who still occasionally binge drinks, binge opinionates, and, as usual, sees all criticism as ingratitude and rebellion. In addition, his current partner is a nasty drunk. Now, our kids are good doobies who try to give their dad equal time, but I think they are sometimes too easily cowed by his guilt trips and seem resentful and depressed after they stay with him. I don’t believe in saying anything negative, particularly since he’s their father and a fellow drunk. My goal is to help them, if I can.

Short of being more careful with birth control when you chose to breed with a real winner, you can’t protect kids from the pain of bad parenting.

You’d like to, and, in this case, you are partly responsible. Unfortunately, it is what it is, there was love despite the lack of a glove and the results cannot be undone. Plus, any attempt to protect them from pain is likely to make it worse.

You know that confronting your ex- about his behavior will get you an earful, which will probably get shared with the kids, making them ever more determined not to let you know when they’re upset because you’ll tattle to dad.

On the other hand, you’ve learned the hard way that your ex’s nasty episodes are, like stormy weather, uncontrollable and no one’s responsibility. When you were married, you probably tried to calm him down, defend yourself, or get him to see what he was doing and, when you failed, you probably took it personally. And drank some more.

Gradually, however, you realized that his being a jerk had nothing to do with you, and that no one could get him to see what he was doing or help him change. Sad, but it freed you from guilt and refocused your sense of responsibility on getting on with life, avoiding conflict, and getting a divorce (and sober).

Now you can pass that wisdom on to the kids. Yes, it involves expressing your negative judgments, but you’re not calling him an asshole; you’re describing him as an Asshole, which is different.

You’re using the term in the professional, technical sense, meaning someone who acts badly and always thinks it’s someone else’s fault because that’s the way his or her brain works, regardless of who that someone is (offspring, employers, other drivers, etc.). You’re not expressing blame or expecting change, because he can’t help it, and nobody can help him.

You would be quite happy to be wrong, and you’re urging the kids to judge for themselves from their own experience. Your point isn’t to offer them pity or ask for their support, but to suggest that, if you’re right and he is truly a jerk, they need to manage their behavior carefully and remind themselves repeatedly that it’s not their fault.

The normal response to an asshole parent is to argue and/or feel bad and try to make the relationship better. The experienced response is to keep your emotions to yourself, believe in your own point of view, and back away quietly.

Hopefully, your kids can learn from your example; both in accepting their father’s true identity, and investing more heavily in birth control.

STATEMENT:
“It hurts to see the kids suffering from their dad’s being a reactive alcoholic with a nasty drinking partner; but it’s a part of life they need to learn to deal with. I can’t change the experience, but I can help them judge their responsibility for themselves and keep guilt and anger from controlling their actions. That’s what I learned from their father, and now I’ll coach them, if they wish.”

I know I was a hard woman to live with 10 years ago when my artistic career stalled; and I wasn’t entirely surprised when my husband told me my irritability had almost pushed him to get a divorce. I was disappointed, though, that he hadn’t tried harder to confront me before he considered leaving, and, ever since then, I’ve noticed he’s kind of sitting on the fence, hanging back from doing things or going places with me, but being perfectly reasonable about sharing household tasks (our kids have left for college) or doing things together with the kids when they’re around. When I’ve asked him why he doesn’t want to vacation with me, he tells me he’s afraid I’ll blow up on him. Really, I’ve had my temper under pretty good control for a long time, but it doesn’t seem to make a difference. My goal has been to keep my marriage, but I don’t know what more I can do.

Obviously, it’s a good thing you’ve got your anger under control. You did the work, and you have a right to feel proud now that you’ve done what you can.

What’s bad, however, is that controlling your temper hasn’t regained your husband’s trust, which means there’s nothing else you can do and you have a partner you can’t count on. If your actions can’t change his mind, you’re at the end of the line.

Don’t ask yourself what you can do to regain his love, because that’s just another way of denying the above. Instead, ask yourself what you want to do with this sad situation.

It’s natural to feel bitter when all your good work made no difference to him. It would be dangerous, however, to let those feelings control your actions and draw you into confrontation (tada, you’re angry again) or a passive withdrawal that would make your life seem empty and increase your dependence. Feelings are feelings and can’t be changed; but you’d better not act on them or they’ll turn you into a cartoon of nasty victimhood and dependence.

What you really need to do, of course, is to get stronger by building your independence. Whatever you want to do, do for yourself. Find your own friends, hobbies, and vacation spots. Remind yourself that your life is your own, it’s short, and there are things to do and people to meet who will probably have no problem with your anger.

Don’t become independent to make him jealous. Do it to reclaim your life, remind him and you that you’ve got much to offer, and reduce the effect of his rejection on your self-esteem.

Being independent reminds him of what he stands to lose and at the same time makes it easier for you to leave, if it’s necessary. Then anger might give way to sadness, but you’ll both be better off in the long run.

STATEMENT:
“I’m sorry my anger destroyed my husband’s commitment to our marriage, but I’m proud that I regained control of my temper, stayed strong, and didn’t let my hurt feelings stop me from being a good mother and doing a good day’s work. I’ve come to think that the problem in our marriage isn’t just my anger, but also my husband’s lack of acceptance, and that I won’t trust him again unless he shows a stronger commitment. I don’t need a partner who gets iffy after a bad fight. In any case, I know what I have to do.”

I’ve been so depressed I can barely get out of bed, so at this point, I’m willing to try medication. The problem is, none of the pills I try seem to work for me, and some of them make me feel worse. One antidepressant made me dizzy, and another one my doctor recommended is said to cause weight gain, and another sometimes causes a severe rash. I’m desperate, but there’s got to be a way to feel better without a fucking rash. I need something that will work without doing me serious harm.

If you’re looking for an antidepressant that’s sure to help and has never caused harm, stop your search now. Like cold fusion, unicorns, and a good Joel Schumacher movie, such a pill doesn’t exist.

Refusing a medication because it makes you gain weight is like skipping chemotherapy because of possible hair loss. Expecting too much from antidepressants, or any medication, can paralyze you and prevent you from getting the actual help they might be able to provide.

Meanwhile, depression is endangering your job, relationships, and even your life, while at the same time damaging your brain; there’s evidence now that, the longer depression goes on, the greater the chance it can make permanent structural changes.

So forgive me if we fight fear with fear, but you’ve got more to fear from depression than from any antidepressant, regardless of its possible ineffectiveness and/or side effects.

That’s why it’s worth trying one antidepressant after another, even though each trial can last a month and has a 30% chance of doing squat. When they say antidepressants are effective, they mean “better than nothing,” not “always” or “completely,” and certainly not “permanently.”

The good news is that side effects are rarely serious and that, when one antidepressant doesn’t work, there’s still a good chance the next one will, because they’re not identical. It’s just a long process towards finding the right one.

You have good reason to be frightened, but don’t seek comfort in false reassurance from the biggest doctor in town (unless you’re determined to believe whatever he/she says and stay off the internet). Stand up to your fear, figure the odds, and make your play.

Life isn’t just unfair, but hard, and only a fool (or someone without broadband access) can ever believe that things will turn out perfectly. There’s no cure (or unicorns), but there are treatments that can help and you will gain courage and comfort from knowing that you’ve made the most of them.

STATEMENT:
“Depression is frightening and its symptoms include fear. It will try to paralyze me with helplessness. I will do what I have always done: figure out my chances based on the best information I can get, make a choice, and take pride in the fact that I’m managing pain, fear, and uncertainty with every tool I have.”

I recently discovered a great deal of support, and sobriety, from AA, and the people I’ve met are remarkably nice and compassionate, but I’m worried about over-depending on meetings for my social life, and yet I’m not sure I have any alternative. Like a lot of recovering drunks, I don’t know how to go out and have fun, or really meet someone, if I’m not high. Then I talked to some people after last night’s meeting and this woman was complaining about how her boyfriend just left her, and how “damaged addicts like us are fucked” when it comes to relationships, and I began to feel depressed about identifying with a group of damaged, lonely people. My goal is to find someone, and I wonder if AA will require me to face the fact that it’s impossible.

Remember that sobriety comes with lots of negative thinking; when you’re sober, you’re more aware of what you don’t like about yourself and what you did when drunk (especially without the cushion of being sauced).

You may also be depressed, particularly if your sobriety is recent, and depression sparks its own negative thoughts about what you should have and could have done and the bleak future ahead of you.

That’s why AA gives you lots of positive truths to tell yourself. It may sound silly and like (Senator) Stuart Smalley, but these positive aphorisms are necessary tools for fighting negative thoughts that will otherwise have you believing all the equally silly shit about yourself and your future that depression is telling you.

For instance, you and your friends see no social future for damaged, recovering alcoholics. Sure, identifying yourself as a recovering alcoholic is an acknowledgement of damage and might seem like a turn-off, and if “recovering” weren’t part of your description, you might be right.

Yes, on a superficial level, we’re all attracted by strength, youth, and beauty, which is why no one whose wedding is reported in the Style section of the Times is ugly, poor, or in rehab.

Think, however, about what you really respect. It’s the ability to deal with pain and loss and remain true to your values, which is what you and the other folk in your AA meeting are helping one another do.

There’s no crime in being lonely or damaged, but there is in pretending you aren’t or trying to escape the pain. Your AA friends may feel like unlovable losers, but with every day of sobriety they come closer to being people you respect and would like to spend time with. You’re good enough, you’re strong enough, and if you’re sober enough, people will like you (except for the ones you don’t want to have anything to do with).

STATEMENT:
“Sobriety has certainly not brought me a feeling of attractiveness or social confidence. I believe, however, in the value of what I’m doing and that true friends will be the ones who accept my weaknesses and appreciate what I’m trying to accomplish; others need not apply.”