My biggest frustration on a daily basis is having someone ask me a question and then either get angry in response to the answer or the fact that a decision has already been made and then ignore the answer they asked for. My wife will ask “do you mind if I do/go/be “x,” and if I answer “yes I mind” then she’s angry and usually proceeds with what she’d already scheduled anyway. Just today my sister asked if the coffee I was holding was warm enough. I said yes, and she then proceeded to take the cup from my hand and run to the microwave with it. OK, so maybe her intentions were good…but why the hell did she ask me, when my answer didn’t matter? Because this seems to happen to me ALL the time, by MANY different people, I’m getting to the point that I don’t even want to be around other people. Should I just shut up and quit even answering questions, or start answering with what I know they want to hear? Giving honest answers is clearly NOT working for me. Can you shed some light on what I’m doing wrong here? And more importantly, what do I do about it?

Nobody likes to feel ignored—at least by people we like and particularly by the ones we love—but some people are particularly sensitive to it.

They feel it as a kind of peace-destroying personal injury that injects them with a festering dislike of their fellow human beings. This leads to a desire to learn wilderness skills or get a solo gig on a space station.

You’re the kind of person whom being ignored gets to, and if I asked you to change, you couldn’t help but ignore my request, even if you tried not to.

Unfortunately, as you’ve noticed, people ignore one another all the time because that’s the way they are. They ask your opinion when what they really want is your OK, they ask how you’re doing when they really want nothing more than to avoid enmity, and they don’t actually care if you drive safe.

Some people who ignore you are, nevertheless, nice and reasonably respectful when they aren’t tired, distracted or irritable. If you’re lucky, and that’s whom you’ve got in your family, then you don’t want to fight over an irritation you can’t possibly change. Even if you’re rich and powerful or order a third-world wife, your family will always, eventually, tend to treat you like chopped liver.

Trying to eliminate the irritation of being ignored usually makes things worse, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. Make a fuss, and they’ll consider you a temperamental grump or autocrat. You’ll get more irritated and feel less respected, they’ll see it as your problem, and everything will get worse.

So don’t make it your goal, like the late, great Rodney Dangerfield, to get respect. The only way to avoid feeling disrespect is to become mean, insanely rich, and/or live in total quarantine from the human race.

Instead, make it your goal to do and be a person you can respect. If you’re not getting respect when you feel it’s deserved, do your best to, you guessed it, ignore it.

STATEMENT:
Here’s a statement for motivating yourself to eat the shit of feeling ignored and proclaim its tastiness when necessary. “I’ll never like being ignored, but I know when it’s an unavoidable part of a worthwhile relationship, so I’m proud of the way I tolerate it when I have to.”

I’m a pretty miserable person sometimes because I get mired in regret. For example, my biggest hang-up to this day is the “traditional” college experience (good friends, staying up all night studying or watching movies with members of the opposite sex, getting top-/transformative academic experiences). I graduated college three years ago and still wonder why things hadn’t gone, well, my way. Whining and pining over past/imaginary circumstances keeps me focused on my own perceived setbacks and flaws instead of moving forward. How do I stop sighing and lamenting, and start valuing and appreciating what I do have? Also, how can I identify what I really want to do in life? Should I learn to be content with doing something, anything, rather than searching for that something? I’m sure I must possess some innate fear of something, as implicit in this message.

Some people tend to ruminate about the contenders they could have been, just as some dogs tend to chase their tails. If your goal is to be happy—which is never a good goal in the first place—stop now, because, like those determined dogs, your tail will always remain out of reach.

Unfortunately, like many people, you’re not the happy type. Of course I don’t mean that you can’t be happy—bring a chocolate cake out after dinner, and everybody’s ecstatic—but anyone who obsesses as much about the difference between what was and what might have been is always going to have a shitload of unhappiness on his plate, which will cause more rumination about what a bad state of mind that is, in infinite regression.

Begin then by accepting the fact that, as a person, you’re a happiness-impaired ruminator. Unlike most shrinks, I don’t want you to ask yourself why you’re a ruminator, not just because I don’t care, but because I don’t think it’s good for you. Figuring out why will ignite yet more rumination and delay the day when you decide you just have to ignore yourself.

Now that you know you ruminate excessively, try to block off the ruminative chatter in your head and prevent it from influencing your actions. In other words, instead of sitting and thinking and fretting, keep doing.

If that seems easier said than done, therapy is an option. Good therapy will help you ignore your ruminations, focus on the here-and-now of your life, and keep moving (or they’ll gain on you). On the other hand, bad therapy will help you ruminate about why you ruminate and keep you so firmly ensconced in your navel you’ll forget what daylight looks like.

Yes, it can be helpful to identify the shortcomings or weaknesses that prevented you from being a college all-star, but the point in knowing your shortcomings is to do the best with them. If college was a bust, then fuck it, and thank goodness you don’t have to stay in college; there’s a world out there where your strengths may serve you well.

So, once you accept that you over-think/under-enjoy, stop over-analyzing your past and start focusing on making a living and creating a social life. It’s not easy, and you might not end up happy, but at least you’ll stop spinning in circles and start moving in a straight line.

STATEMENT:
Meanwhile, here’s a positive way of thinking of college that will protect you from ruminative “might-have-beens.” “I’ve always had ideals and dreams about the college guy I wish I could have been, and the tough side of those perfect superhero dreams is feeling how often and in how many ways I fell short. I did my best and, despite having had no great social or academic triumphs, I learned enough to get my money’s worth and was a decent guy (to whatever dweebs wanted to be my friend). I believe life can get better if I find my niche; meanwhile, I’m proud of what I did with what I had.”

I’ve been getting increasingly nervous about my aging parents, particularly because my mother, who’s a very vigorous near-90, likes to ignore the real risks of continuing to vacation in their old, 2 story, roughing-it country home. She loves to garden, take vigorous walks, build fires, and keep to the same routine she had when she was 40. I know I’m a nervous person—I’m a nurse, and I’ve had to deal with an injured leg since childhood—but I’m haunted about what could happen to her if she fell down and it’s no place for my dad, who’s very frail after a stroke. When I said something to her yesterday about how she should hold onto my father’s arm when he walks, she told me to mind my own business. I’m the only one of the kids who lives nearby, so their safety is my business. How do I get her to understand she needs to be more careful?

It’s understandable that you worry about your parents, but even if they were both freakishly healthy and lived in a hermetically sealed bubble, the sad fact is, they’re both going to die.

[Moment to process.]

Yes, your aging parents are lucky to have a caring child nearby, particularly someone who’s medically educated, as you are. You also know, however, as someone who’s lived with a crippled leg, how necessary it is to take risks if you want to live a full life and how important it is to make those risk-management decisions yourself.

Your goal isn’t to breathe easy, knowing that your parents are safe as can be, or make yourself responsible for their safety. As much as you’d like them to be safe, they can’t be, so those goals would drive you and them crazy (and provide me with a steady income).

Now that you know you can’t make them safe or ease your own fears, you’re ready to think creatively about realistic risk management, knowing that bad things (like death, but lesser things, too) will happen.

Your goal isn’t to prevent those bad things from happening, but to help your parents do whatever they’re willing to do to prevent them, then forget about them, and live their lives (and let you live yours).

Instead of nagging them to be more careful, offer to get them professional advice on how to manage risks from slips, falls, fainting spells, medication mistakes, and assorted worst-case scenarios.

If that doesn’t work, leave their doctor a message encouraging him/her to do the same and if that doesn’t work, take a course yourself and do what you can. Then, you’re finished and enjoy the veggies from the garden.

STATEMENT:
Here’s a statement for keeping your responsibilities in check. “As much as it would hurt to see my parents injured and as much as it scares me to think about it, I respect their determination to live independently as long as possible, despite the risks. I can do more for them by offering good advice than by inducing guilt. I will take pride in doing this job well, regardless of whether they accept my advice. Indeed, the less I can do and the more helpless I feel, the more pride I’ll take in not letting my management interfere with their choices.”

Two years ago, my wife was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes. We’re both overweight, but she also used to be a smoker, so her health’s always been more of an issue than mine. We were both warned that if we didn’t get better eating and exercise habits, we’d be in trouble, and now she knows her diabetes puts her at much higher risk of heart disease, hypertension, infections, and kidney disease. Well, two years later, and I’ve started taking the dogs on long walks, stopped eating from the vending machine at work, and lost some weight. My wife, on the other hand, hasn’t really changed her habits at all. She says she’s eating less crap at work, but at night she’s making the same unhealthy (delicious) stuff we’ve always eaten, and she always says she’s too tired to walk with me. I don’t know what I can do aside from nagging her, and that’s not working, so I’m really worried that she’s going to go downhill fast and that I’ll lose her. My goal is to get save my wife from herself.

As much as you’d like to keep your wife around as long as possible, you know that your influence over her health habits is limited, and trying to control her health will cause you more conflict and probably drive both of you to an earlier grave…which contradicts your purpose.

Unlike the concerned daughter above, you don’t have the luxury of ignoring the inevitable; she can’t make her parents immortal, but theoretically, you can help your wife to change her habits. If you’ve ever tried to change any of your own habits, however, you know it’s never really that easy.

Weight control, for example, should be easy because putting food in your mouth and swallowing are supposedly voluntary actions. In reality, people don’t have that much control over their habits or their health. Ask anyone who’s eaten at Cinnabon.

It takes great effort, not everyone can do it, and other legitimate priorities, like raising kids and making a living, get in the way. Biology is powerful, and our bodies are designed to survive famine, not taste-bud seduction.

Accept that she has a chronic, incurable illness and you’ll start to be more helpful. Instead of nagging, offer advice on impulse management and eating better (but don’t force that advice, because then you’re back to square one).

If that doesn’t work, ask her doctor to do the same, and if that doesn’t work, learn CPR, read up on living with a diabetic, and enjoy your time together. After all, you don’t want to ruin the quality of your relationship for the sake of a little more quantity.

STATEMENT:
Here’s a nagging-restraint statement. “It’s hard to watch my wife’s unhealthy habits, but I’ll do more for her by keeping my feelings to myself, offering advice if she wants it, and enjoying her while I’ve got her. A good marriage always requires tolerating the pain of traits you can’t change, and this is more of the same.”

Living with my mentally ill 30-year-old daughter is wearing me out. My wife and I can never leave her alone, but we also can’t take her with us because she gets uncomfortable when she’s around people she doesn’t know and says inappropriate things in a loud voice and has to get up and leave. The problem isn’t her, though, it’s my wife, who is so worried about what will happen if we put her in a half-way house with other sick people that she can’t think clearly about it. We’ve got some money, but if we paid for my daughter to have her own condo and a nurse to keep an eye on her, the money wouldn’t last long. Then again, if she continues to live with us, we won’t last long. My goal is to get my wife to see that we have to get her into a state-supported program, for her sake and ours.

You hope to get your wife to see that your mentally ill daughter needs to live independently, but if you were making any progress in that direction, you wouldn’t be writing.

Let’s assume then, at least for the moment, that your hopes are false and your wife can’t let go, and if she can’t let go, she’ll always be thinking of new ways to make your daughter feel more comfortable and better understood. Which makes your goal a more and more distant dream.

It also means less legitimacy for other priorities, like preparing your daughter for life after you’re gone, or tending to your own needs or the needs of other kids.

When your wife’s approach wears you out (and it will, if you aren’t a saint), you’ll get angry and then she’ll blame you for making your daughter feel unloved and causing conflict that makes her sick.

As such, your wife’s not letting go will make things worse, as will your own refusal to let go of pushing your wife to let go. So, let’s stamp out your presumably false hope and ask how to make the best of things if your wife won’t change course.

First, figure out what you think is the right way to proceed, given the limitations of your resources and the nature of your daughter’s illness. Whatever you do, don’t expect what you have to do to feel good, because whatever it is, it won’t produce a cure or happiness, and won’t provide the guilt-blocking pleasure of unrestricted giving.

Then get advice from experts about her illness and what public benefits exist. Talk to other parents who have dealt with this issue, and count your savings. After that, put together a plan that represents the best compromise for dealing with two absolutely unavoidable and insoluble problems: the riskiness of independence when you’re mentally ill, and the costliness of long-term care when you’re not super rich.

Finally, ask yourself what you can do to implement this plan without your partner’s help, while encouraging her to join you if she chooses. You need to be able to stand by your plan so that her fears or criticism won’t paralyze you or draw you into argument.

You can’t reassure your wife that things will turn out well, but you can show her that you believe your way is best. If you appear calm about your plan and confident that you’re doing the right thing, she may eventually feel less responsible for all the bad things that could happen to your daughter and better able to do what will work best in the long run.

STATEMENT:
I have a duty to push our daughter towards independence while also attending to other responsibilities. I know this will cause her pain in the short run and deprive her of help I wish I could afford, but can’t. If I put together the best plan I can, however, I can take pride in being a good parent and offer that confidence to my wife and daughter as an alternative to fear.

My wife and I recently retired and we’ve been looking forward to a good life together, but recently I noticed she’s been getting forgetful and I wonder if she’s developing Alzheimer’s, which runs in her family. I hate to admit this, but I don’t think I’m capable of taking care of someone with Alzheimer’s, even if it’s my wife, whom I love very much. I can’t talk to her about it, because I don’t want to frighten her, and most of the time when I think about what to do, I just want to get away. Should I persuade her to get an evaluation so it can be treated? My goal is to do something to prevent this disaster from happening.

Getting into a panic with the goal of preventing Alzheimer’s is as useless as being paralyzed with fear over anything you can’t help, from the Rapture to the weather forecast to the Red Sox prospects in 2010.

Yes, you can urge your wife to get a physical and whisper to the doctor that she seems a little forgetful, and that will get him/her to check out curable causes of memory loss, like vitamin deficiency and depression.

At that point, believe it or not, you’ve done your job. If you press further by urging her to get cognitive testing and trying all available treatments, you may well make your lives worse.

A better goal for almost all the chronic problems of aging is to do what you can to treat them and then forget about them. You don’t want her to become her illness; you want her to live her usual life as much as possible.

For most people with memory loss, there’s no impending disaster. It’s only later, if and when it becomes severe, that people lose their personalities and require constant watching.

In your wife’s case, later may be a long, long time away. Meanwhile, you’ve got a life together that you don’t want to ruin by worrying about something that may not happen. Your goal is to fight fear, do what’s necessary for a possible illness, and live life as usual.

Your goal also isn’t to be extra nice to her; forgetfulness can be irritating to live with, and if you try too hard to be nice, you’ll get extra nasty. Instead, just try not to be mean, and give yourself credit when you can keep yourself in check. That’s always helpful in marriage, whether your spouse is demented or not.

STATEMENT:
Reassure yourself. “If there’s something that will actually help my wife with her memory, I’ll do it. Otherwise, it’s business as usual for as long as possible.”

I’m in my mid-30s, about to have my first child with my husband of about a year. My husband is a solid guy—he’s steady, and very caring—but deep down, I know a big reason I married him is because I wasn’t getting any younger and wanted to start a family. I dated a guy in law school that I was really in love with, but he was a lot older, made it clear he never wanted kids, and was your basic passionate, unavailable nightmare. I admit, I’m hormonal, which means my husband’s been getting on my nerves a lot lately, which just makes me obsess more and more about how I’ve settled for a life without love. My goal is to figure out how to get through the next stage of my life and live with my decision.

Don’t get superficial and compare the Valentine’s Day smiles at the next bistro table to your current mood and nostalgic memories of past lovers. In my experience, finding the love of your life isn’t too difficult, but finding a good partner is a real pain in the ass.

By “good partner,” I don’t mean someone you’re crazy about, under any and all circumstances, forever and ever, amen. I mean someone who is strong, easy to live and work with, accepts you during your weaker and less likeable moments, communicates on your wavelength, and picks up the load when you can’t. As well as someone whom you can put up with most of the time.

If you think two Harvard degrees have made me too selective (or obnoxious) to encounter lots of likely candidates, my patients tell me the same thing, including those with friendly, engaging personalities and dazzling beauty (they still have to see a shrink, after all).

As I’ve said before to other people seeking romantic advice, don’t yearn for someone you can talk to or someone who makes you feel special; those needs can be met by a good hairdresser. You describe your husband as “steady” and “caring,” which is worth more than the best of hair days.

Just as positive feelings can make you lose sight of what’s important in a relationship, negative feelings become dangerous when they cause you to devalue an otherwise good partnership. You can get negative because you’re a grump, or hormonal, or irritated by your partner’s less-than-perfect behavior, or because you ate too many turnips. Having those feelings, however, doesn’t mean you have to take them seriously.

If you think your relationship has become empty and meaningless because you can’t find a twinge of love, then negative feelings have made you forget what’s important. What’s important is not romantic advice, because romance is not what partnership is about. As you begin this next stage of life, that will become abundantly clear.

STATEMENT:
Here’s a reminder to help you fight the love-sick, sick love, Valentine’s Day blues. “As much as I love love, my goal is a family that has emotional and financial security. I’ve chosen carefully and we’re off to a good start. I wish there was more positive feeling and less bickering today, but I think we’ll be good at working and living together and managing the challenges of raising kids and dealing with setbacks, so we’re on the right course.”

I know my girlfriend’s a little unstable, believe me—I’m the one she stabbed twice with a steak knife (seriously). We broke up for a while, but after she came to me a few weeks after the incident full of remorse and apology, I had to take her back, because, even though she can be a freak, I have more fun with her than any other person alive. She’s the most exciting, dynamic woman, so, even though she sometimes flips out, I put up with it for all the times she’s just being a blast and making me stupid happy. I told my mom I was thinking of asking her to marry me, and my mom almost had a heart attack. I know we’re young (I’m 19) and that she really went overboard that one time, but I love the crazy bitch. My goal is to get the girl of my dreams, even if she sort of tried to kill me.

I’m not going to tell you that you’re crazy, or make waking-up-with-missing-anatomy jokes, because that’s what all your friends are doing, and maybe it’s not the way love feels to you.

Love can feel unselfish, like the joy of giving and helping and making a better world and having sex all mixed together, so it may feel meaningful to you, rather than just one big thrill.

On the other hand, I may be overestimating you. You may be the sort of guy who just wants to be stupid happy. That common expression is a most apt term in this case, and boy, will you be both (although more “stupid” than “happy” in the long run.

Maybe you think love will cure her problems. Unfortunately, love’s power is in what it makes people feel, not in changing their characters. It won’t make your girlfriend’s temper go away, at least not for long.

If anything, love makes needy people worse. It’s like heroin; the more they get, the more they need, the more they’re convinced you’ll never give them enough, the more they hate you for controlling them.

Maybe you want to believe that she wouldn’t get crazy if you could be more available, find the right words, and demonstrate your true love. That might be the plot of at least a couple of Drew Barrymore’s mid-career films, but it’s not what’s going to happen to you or any poor sucker in real life.

The good news is that love will make you very happy. The bad news is that you’ll be lucky to get away without third degree burns.

The other good news, while you may not take comfort in it, is that young men like you have been drawn to unstable women for centuries (a few of whom have written in the past). These unions aren’t totally without worth; after all, if it weren’t for gullible male/temperamental female pairings, we wouldn’t have tattoo removal technology, reality television stars, or so many girls named Amber.

Listen to your mom, however, and avoid being a part of that breeding statistic and put aside your wishful thinking. If love makes her crazy, ask yourself whether your love is really doing her a favor, and if this is a favor you want to commit to for the rest of your life.

STATEMENT:
Here’s a statement you’d be wise to deliver. “Our love feels wonderful and there are times when it brings out the best in both of us, but I think it also stirs up feelings that can’t be controlled and that could ruin our lives. What’s most important to me is not how good it feels to be with you, but what will do you and me the most good in the long run, and that’s why we need to walk away.”

My big sister, whom I live with, is always on my case about my spending habits—I’m no good at budgets, and she knows I’ve always been that way—but the more she nags me , the more I want to spend. I’ve been feeling really down for the past year or so, which also doesn’t really help me get motivated to do much of anything, including taking care of my kids, which just makes her even angrier, because she says that I basically spend money and she does all the work, including cleaning and childcare. So when I told her I needed money to visit a sick friend, she said she’d give it to me, but then there’d be no money for Christmas presents. So now it’s a few days from Christmas and she’s blaming me for spending the Christmas money and I’m tired of listening to her lecturing. My goal is to get her to find the money, which I’m sure she can, and get her off my case.

You’re pushing for money you don’t control from a sister who may not have it, and you want her to change feelings that aren’t going to change in a living situation that you can’t afford to escape. While you’re at it, you should attempt to eat a mouthful of pure cinnamon and cure cancer.

As you might have gathered, you can’t have what you want, any of it, and going after it will make your happy home into a hellhole that will make your kids yearn for the day they can escape for their lives and sanity.

You’ve got a right to your wishes—they’re human and understandable—but watch what trouble you create by making it your goal to express them. You’re not just farting into a phone booth, but laying down a shit as well.

Making it your goal to guilt your sister into giving you cash means you’re always the helpless kid who’s dependent on and mad at her, and she’s the mean skinflint who will always be mad at you. You’ll get much more power and freedom in the long run, and create a more peaceful home, if you manage your money as if you’re the boss and you’ve got to make the tough decisions about what you can’t buy.

Ignore what your sister says and how you feel about it. Yes, those feelings may hurt, but they’re not important compared to the survival issues you face and the need to improve your relationship with her. Shut up about her, and think about what you need to do to survive, because that’s what you’ll need to do if your sister can’t take care of you.

As controlling as she seems, your sister really doesn’t make the decisions now, because there’s never enough money and no one knows where it goes. Her priority is as bad as yours: making the squeaky wheel shut the fuck up.

Right now, no one is steering your family finances and the sooner you step forward, the better for everyone. Your goal then is long-term survival with less conflict.

What you have now is an opportunity. There’s no shame in sacrificing Christmas presents to support a sick friend, so you can take this opportunity to give the kids a good lesson in the meaning of Christmas. Instead of blaming your sister for not giving you more, tell her that you stand by your priorities, you appreciate her support, and you’re going to think harder about your other spending priorities and get back to her with your ideas.

Then sit down with a friend, add up your monthly expenses, and make your own decisions about where the money should go. Yes, tough decisions may give you a headache, but they’re the source of what little power you’ll have in your sister’s house, and what most of us have in this world in general.

STATEMENT:
Prepare a statement to enlist your sister’s cooperation and protect both of your from the destructive whining and grudging giving of the past. “Your hard work is keeping us afloat and I wish I could do my share, but depression has made that impossible. But I’m going to put together a budget that reflects our priorities so that, when it comes time to spend money, you’ll be happy where it’s going and we’ll be pleased to remember how hard you worked to make it.”

My boyfriend tells me that I’m too closed-off and in my own head. I know that I shut down sometimes, but it’s not like I’m really holding anything back. I think I do my share, but I’ve never been one of those flamboyant stereotypes (we’re gay). Anyway, an old friend of mine got very sick recently, and he came with me when I went home to visit. We’re sitting in the hospital, waiting to see my friend, when my boyfriend whispers that he really needs a kiss, right then. I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t want to kiss him, because it didn’t seem appropriate, plus I wanted to pay attention to my friend, so I just quietly brushed him off, and later he exploded at me for not sharing and being connected. I love my boyfriend, and I hate seeing him unhappy, and now I wonder if I’m doing something wrong. My goal is to make our relationship work.

Trying to make a bad relationship work can suck you dry and make you an accessory to bad deeds. There’s no harm in wishing it could work, and nothing more dangerous than assuming you should make it work.

If you give up on the idea that you can make this relationship work—want a hankie?—you’re free to ask yourself what’s getting in the way and whether there’s anything you can do about it.

Judge your own behavior. Get input from people you trust. Ask yourself if you do your share of relating and responding, and if the answer is yes, then congratulations, you’re innocent of wrong-doing, and condolences, you have no control over your boyfriend’s unhappiness.

Now, let’s talk about his neediness. There’s nothing wrong with feeling needy, but when he makes it your responsibility, you’ve both got trouble. Between his neediness and your guilt, you’ve got the makings of some long-term, intractable conflict.

You can have a nice relationship if he sometimes suffers from frustrated neediness but accepts the fact that you’re not responsible for kissing it and making it feel better. Otherwise, he wants you to change, and that never works. It’s a deal-breaker.

So the bonus round question is whether or not he can accept you. If he can’t, the prize is, you’re fucked.

Never, ever choose to live with someone who doesn’t accept you, no matter how much you love him. Sure, it’s ungrateful of me to make this statement, given the amount of business I get from the strong attraction people have to partners who don’t accept them, but as a not needy person, I’m putting your health first.

STATEMENT:
Here’s a statement that responds to his complaint and gives you a chance to see if he can manage his neediness and accept you the way you are. “I love to make you happy and I understand that you think I sometimes withdraw too much to satisfy your needs. I’ve been asking myself and others whether I withdraw too much to do my share in a relationship and I’ve decided three things: I do my share, I can’t change my style, and our relationship to work if you can’t accept me for the way I am, including the way I sometimes leave your needs unmet. I hope you can manage those unmet needs without attacking me; because otherwise, this relationship can’t work.”

My father, a Holocaust survivor, is dying of cancer. I’m his only child, and while my mother is doing the best she can, I feel overwhelmed with responsibility and grief. I don’t know how to stop feeling so helpless, not just because I love him and can’t save him, but because he overcame so much to make life possible for me, and now all I can do is watch him die. My goal is to figure out what I can do for him since he’s done so much for me.

Don’t fall for the common misconception that you fulfill your duty to your parents by taking care of them and keeping them safe when they’re old. As a genuine geezer, Dr. Lastname can tell you with authority: you can’t, and it’s not your duty anyway.

No, I’m not telling you to push your dad out on an ice flow or forget about him, not for a moment. I am telling you to think about two things: what your goal will be for your kids when you get old and need their help, and how little you can do for anyone when they’re suffering from old age.

If you’ve made sacrifices for your kids, it’s for the future of your family, and you want your kids to do the same for their kids. The last thing you want is to deplete their resources, disrupt the stability of their marriages, or take them away from your grandkids.

My guess is that your father didn’t have a child after surviving the Holocaust simply because he wanted care during old age or revenge on the enemies of the Jews. If he’s like most survivors, his main goal was to do what he started out doing before the earthquake happened, which was to give love to the next generation, pass on good moral values, and not let unavoidable sorrow or anger interfere.

Perhaps the intensity of your sorrow is part of your inheritance as the only child of a survivor. Your goal is not to make it go away by holding on to him, but to bear it, as your parents did, while living a full life.

So your goal isn’t to devote yourself to your father’s care; it’s to help him if there’s something you can do that will make a substantial difference and meanwhile continue with your normal life priorities.

No, it’s not a process that will make you feel good; tearing yourself away from his care, even though you know you can’t do more, never feels good and you’ll be tempted to keep on doing more and more and more.

If you let your loving, protective feelings take over, however, you’ll wear yourself out, do him no good, and damage the life your father wants you to build for yourself and others. Your father survived impossible hardship; honor him by surviving his illness with your sanity and priorities intact.

STATEMENT:
Prepare a statement to protect yourself from irrational guilt and responsibility. “In my family, we are committed to caring for one another, but we are also committed to carrying on with life and we know there is only so much we can do when faced with life’s worst problems, like aging, death, and loss. I will do anything for my father that will really help. And I will try to bear the pain of losing him without faltering in my other responsibilities, as he did with his losses throughout his life.”

I know it’s a cliché, but I am a gay man with a cat I love more than anything in the world. The problem is that she’s 15, she’s having serious problems with arthritis (and general old age), and the vet has made it clear that there are ways to prolong her life but not without some suffering on her part. The last thing I want is for my girl to suffer, but when I think about living without her, it’s like my heart stops. My goal is to make a responsible decision even though just thinking about making the decision tears me up inside.

Responsible decisions about unhappy dilemmas will almost always make you feel worse, because the only choice you have is between less-pain-now-and-feeling-like-a-shit-later and gagging-on-the-bitten-shit-bullet-now-but-knowing-you’ve-done-the-right-thing-later. Be a shit, or eat shit. Viva life.

So if your goal is to feel happy about your beloved cat’s death, forget it. On the other hand, if your goal is to do right by your old friend, then prepare to suck it up and bear your sorrow proudly.

It’s dangerous to want to feel less pain, because in order to do that, you’ll need to stop being a sensitive gay guy. You’ll need to get tough, brag about your sports injuries, and trade in your cat for an iguana.

Furthermore, you’ll need sign up for my cut-rate lobotomy service. Don’t worry, I promise to keep my charges down until I’ve completed 5 and gained the experience necessary to put myself in the upper ranks of brain surgeons. It’s all in the wrist.

If you insist on being gay and staying true to yourself, however, you must accept your pain. In all fairness, you wouldn’t want to get over the loss of a close friend in 2 weeks. Feeling pain is part of honoring her importance. There’s no shame in that, or the cliche.

STATEMENT:
So give yourself a pep talk to remember that pain can have positive meaning if you make it so. “I’ve been lucky to share my life with a wonderful cat, who gave me the kind of conditional non-acceptance that only a cat can provide. She saw me through tough times and taught me that the only thing of real importance was seeing to her needs. I’ll do right by her and cherish her memory.”

I’m an early middle-aged woman, lucky enough to have the problems that come with getting saner and older. I grew up in one of those sad alcoholic homes from which I never gave up working to extricate myself. I screwed life up at first but have been recovered from alcoholism over twenty years, similarly recovered from eating disorders (bulimia, anorexia, binge eating), returned to the school I had ditched to finally graduate with honors, kept jobs (now retired) and, a real miracle, I have been married to a terrific guy in my sobriety and am (for real) happily married. I have solid loving friends. I’ve seen therapists for the depression, which intermittently interferes but even found a half-assed but useful medication. A good life…except for the real problems that come with age. That wonderful husband has a couple of chronic diseases, my best friend died of the cancer I survived, and everyone is dead in my small original family. I am experiencing that trapped childhood feeling of being in a world in which I am helpless and those I love are hopeless and going away. I realize I must just feel the hurt and keep on anyway, but I am tired, and my stamina is more fragile now. I disappoint those I love and make mistakes more. Goal in writing you: To get a better grip on myself and accept more deeply that I cannot change the pain of life. I would like to not keep blaming myself, a old bad habit that lingers. Sorry I’ve gone on so long but I guess I wanted to show that I have really tried to help others and myself even if I’m whining now.

You see your goal as rising above the pain of aging, but you can’t fool me (remember, I went to Harvard): your deeper goal is to help people, to the point that their aging has worn you down and caused you to forget that you have other goals. For example, not getting worn down unless it’s really necessary.

So it’s not aging that’s your problem, but what aging has done to your ability to help others while keeping your priorities straight. That’s what I think is causing you the most grief. After all, if you were old but weren’t as responsive to the needs of others, all you’d have to worry about is your bad back and Tivo’ing NCIS.

On top of ascertaining your real goal, I can also guess you’re not from Samaria, so you don’t have a Samaritan license (funny, you don’t look Samaritan). That’s the first thing that’s wrong with your initial goal—wanting too much to help others.

Second, helping others feels good, so you know it’s got to be bad. Third, it makes you feel less guilty (even though you did no wrong in the first place) which is the same as two.

Fourth, it elbows out your other responsibilities, like enjoying your few remaining days and being nice to your not-yet-dying friends. Fifth, it makes you tired, depleted, and depressed and in need of my services…actually pretend I didn’t say that, because I need the work, but finally,

Finally, six, it will make nice people hate you because they have to be needy and dying to get your full attention. Again, this wish doesn’t discriminate based on age.

You and I know what’s wrong with very nice, recovered alcoholics: they’re addicted to helping others. So your goal isn’t to help others; it’s to ration your help so you have time and energy for equally legitimate and necessary priorities, like making a living, being a good friend to those who can give as well as take, and feeding your own soul.

Yes, you carry sadness and are surrounded by it, but the more you focus on it, the more helpless you’ll feel, which will make you sadder, until you’re stuck in a pit.

So accept the sadness, as you do, and start over. You’re fucked, your husband is fucked, and, as the old Spiritual says, “all God’s children be fucked.” Hallelujah. Both your sadness and his illness, however, haven’t stopped you from caring for one another and making one another’s lives richer.

Indeed, your sadness has probably made you a better writer and more empathic friend, and your ability to manage depression, alcoholism, and an eating disorder has given you strength that I’m sure has benefited others.

I’m not saying you’re lucky—that’s bullshit—but stop focusing on your inability to make sadness and loss go away, and instead on what you’ve done with it, and be proud. Be proud of being unlucky and not letting it stop you, turn you inwards, prevent you from using your gifts, cripple your friendships, or inhibit you from taking risks.

You feel like shit, but it’s just a feeling. Your actions are a triumph and that’s what you should be reminding yourself. Now stop whining and be proud.

STATEMENT:
Prepare a statement to block off the helpless misery of your meditations on loss. “My life has included more than its share of pain, loss, and out-of-control behavior and I’ve been sensitized to seeing the sad side of life. But I have been unusually good at living a full life in spite of my feelings, gaining control over my behaviors, and turning into a good person who gives courage to others. That was always my goal and that’s what I’m doing. I’m not really helpless at all.”

Recently, I suffered a health setback and I don’t know whether I’ll ever get better. Without getting specific, I have physical problems that are hard to talk about with anyone but my closest friends, but they slow me down and I don’t get as much done as I used to, either at work or home. I’m in my 40s, and I’ve always been active, productive, and social, so most people don’t know what to make of the change in my behavior. The real issue that’s come up involves my work, because my boss will notice, sooner or later, that I’ve taken a lot of sick days and that I’m not getting as much done. I believe in your philosophy of living by your own standards and not depending on what others think of you, and I’m worried, in any case, by how he’d respond, so my goal is to keep quiet about my illness and respect myself regardless of his questions or criticism.

There’s enough unavoidable pain in life so that you don’t have to embrace additional pain in order to build your pride. This includes the pain whose nature we dare not speak.

Besides, you have other priorities than proving your toughness to yourself, like making a living, taking care of people who depend on you, and making your relationships no more difficult than they have to be.

Pride in your toughness is unaffordable; instead, embrace shame, and be proud that you can.

Having an incurable condition brings out the worst in people if you’re not careful, and sometimes it brings out the worst when you are. Your wife and kids (and boss) will try hard to get you back to your usual, happy self, and then wonder where they, and you, have failed.

An incurable condition will tend to make you grumpy and depressed, and they’ll blame your negativity, not your pain, for making you sick and them miserable.

Your boss, if he notices a change, will launch into his usual executive procedures for establishing accountability, restoring motivation, and developing an explanation that will satisfy his boss that the problem is under control. If you don’t give him an explanation, he’ll assume he’s running into psychological resistance, try harder, piss you off, get a more negative response, and so on.

So watch out. You’ve got an incurable condition—”fucked” is the medical term—and you’ll be double-fucked if you don’t counteract the negative impact it will have on your relationships.

If the details of your illness are private, that’s fine, but the fact that you’re ill, especially if it affects your performance, isn’t something you can afford to hide from your employer if you want to stay in his employ. Speak up, and respect yourself for doing so, not in spite of it.

STATEMENT:
Write a statement to shield yourself from the expectations of others (and yourself). “I’ve got a condition that I’m working on with my doctor and the good news is that it won’t kill me, but the bad news is that it’s painful and makes it harder for me to get my work done and be as energetic and social as I used to be. So I need to prioritize carefully, while I try to keep the pain managed. Don’t hesitate to let me know if you think I’m falling behind in any major way. My feelings won’t be hurt, and it will help me adjust my priorities and be as effective as possible.”