Question
I am a middle-aged woman, married, with five grown-up children. My husband is a good man in many ways, but we have issues.
I am very very angry at him, but this was suppressed into depression for many years. Recently, I did an intensive one-week personal transformation course and the result is that all this anger is coming up.
I am so angry and feel so very hurt by his behaviour with other women over all the years of our married life. For example, many years ago, when my best friend visited us, he took her out dancing and held her in a very intimate manner. I felt so humiliated and sick. Yet he said he did nothing wrong! And last year, at a family wedding, he leaned over and patted my cousin's thigh, in front of me. She's not married, and I still wonder if she considered this a "pass". When she visits now, the conversation is solely with my husband and I am barely acknowledged. I find this outrageous. My husband says I'm making a big to-do about nothing. I could go on forever with examples, which would get us nowhere.
How do I get him to see the effect his behaviour has on me? I feel he has no respect at all for me. No wonder I've been depressed all these years, not being able to deal with this. Now I feel I can tackle it. I'm expressing my anger, my hurt and my disappointment. And I'm insisting on being treated with respect in future.
But sometimes I feel my husband doesn't want to hear. It's like he's stuck in some adolescent stage of emotional development, and won't move on. How do I deal with this in a more effective way? Or do I admit that the marriage is over? I mean I do feel he cares for me at some level. Also, how do I best cope with my cousin's visits - and the fact that she ignores me? I feel so humiliated in all these relationships. That friend of mine whom he danced with so intimately al those years ago is also visiting soon and I am dreading it. When these women call, I feel embarrassed, humiliated and put down. How do I deal better with all of this?
Answer
Years ago a very wise therapist told me to be prepared for terrible anger to surface once therapy started. He suggested I take up some vigorous form of exercise, or martial art, or whatever, and build it into my daily routine. It would help to discharge the ensuing distress. He was right.
The point is, being angry is fine. In fact it's necessary. Angrily attempting to assert yourself, however, is a waste of time. It's worse. It's counter-productive. You can see that yourself. You are insisting, very vocally, that your husband treat you with respect. You are telling him how angry, hurt and disappointed you are - and nothing has changed. Yes, depression is, amongst other things, suppressed rage. And yes, accessing that anger is good. But getting angry of itself doesn't bring about change. You need to use your anger in order to get clarity - and then coolly go about asserting yourself.
First of all, differentiate. Flirting with other women is one thing. Having a woman regularly visit your home who ignores you is another thing entirely. It's unacceptable. But wilting like a wallflower waiting for your husband to rescue you won't help. Since she's a cousin - and obviously a close one at that - you probably don't want to bar her. So put yourself centre-stage in every conversation during her visits. Open the door when she calls, ask your husband to get the tea and sandwiches while you two women talk, discuss clothes, hairstyles, make-up, the menopause, engage in gossip, hold a monologue on your kids' latest exploits - and smile. Do you understand? Drop the hurt withdrawal. Don't wait for your husband to give you pride of place. Use your anger instead to give you Dutch courage and put yourself bang in the middle of all interaction.
I seem to be saying this a lot lately, but marriage is also a question of power-play - all relationships are. Your husband flirts, wittingly or unwittingly, precisely because you don't like it. It makes him feel strong. Yes, pathetic I know, but in truth we're all a bit pathetic. It's the human condition. And yes, it is deeply disappointing. But that's all it is. He's saying no to your request that he desist. That's not actually lack of respect. It's a limit of love. To which you have several responses. You can shrug off the disappointment, sadly even, but with resignation rather than rage. You can actively intervene, as in competing, laughingly taking his hand and putting it on your thigh, cutting in on the intimate dance, sitting on his knee when your old friend comes to stay and you're all relaxing with a drink after dinner. Or sometimes just absent yourself from the silliness. What you don't do is continue to ask, or insist, that he consider your feelings. That, whether you like it or not, is part of the power-play. You have to rescue yourself.
I know it's hard to get your head around, but your husband's silly behaviour doesn't actually humiliate you. It shows him up as a somewhat limited man. And no, it's not humiliating to stay married to a man with limitations. It's wise not to be distracted by the lesser things in life. So you are not diminished in the eyes of your friends. This man isn't abusing you. He's just being somewhat less than perfect. And who isn't? And don't you see? It's your lack of proper self-esteem, your sense of helplessness, your belief that you can't compete, in an appropriate manner, with anyone who crosses your path, which is leaving you feeling so vulnerable.
Your husband's behaviour is truly a side-show. Take a longer look at why you feel so powerless. And then do something about it.
Showing posts with label Depression. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Depression. Show all posts
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Depressed Mother A Burden
Question
I come from a family of six and I am the only girl. As long as I can remember, my mother has been depressed. She was in psychiatric care when I was younger, but she has not taken medication in the last 30 years, hence her down-hill spiral. Visiting her is like Negativity Central. My brothers don't care and we are not a close family.
My main concern is my dad. He is a quiet man who is bullied all day every day, walking on eggshells, he says, in case she explodes. He worked all his life. My mother didn't. But she controls the money and gives him small amounts. Yet she spends serious money on very expensive clothes for herself. She accuses him of attracting other women, and there are many women she hasn't spoken to for years as she thinks they fancy him. She tells tales about him, for example that he tried to push her, when in fact, as my father explained, she had got into a rage at him and tripped over. He still does all the shopping and cooking but I am very worried as they are getting old. She stays in every day moaning and crying. I hate visiting her as she will not listen to any helpful suggestions. Everyone else is to blame, not her. I no longer allow my children to visit as they feel uneasy when they are there.
I am married to a wonderful man who doesn't understand why I still visit. But I am still drawn. She has never hugged me or shown any emotion. But my dad always hugs and smiles, even though he is unhappy. She is making me very unhappy too. She needs help but won't accept any and my father is too weak to leave her. What do I do? It can't go on like this. Do I stay away and just ask my dad to visit us? Christmas was another nightmare.
Answer
You clearly love your dad, he clearly loves you, and it's wonderful to have that relationship. You can't, however, fight his battles for him. You can't change his relationship with your mother. You can't defend him from her bullying. Those are all tasks he can choose to do, or choose to avoid. And he's clearly choosing to avoid - for now, anyway. So be it. You must accept his decision.
With your dad's battles out of the way, you should have a somewhat clearer picture of your own battle with your mother. Because, of course, you're also fighting to get some love or recognition from her. I don't think you'll get it, one way or the other. She doesn't sound like a rewarding kind of mother. But you certainly won't get it by trying to make helpful suggestions on how to solve her problems. Don't you see? She doesn't want to solve things, she wants to complain. It's part of the dynamic of her personality - and the dynamic of her marriage too, for that matter.
Just imagine what it would be like if you totally accepted that you can't change her. Wouldn't that make it a whole lot easier to be around her? I mean, could you envisage fulfilling some sense of duty towards her by simply visiting, or helping out in some practical way, from time to time, without the burden of believing it's your task to fix things? Because to answer your husband's question about why you visit her, dumping all duty towards a parent is very hard to do. Most people try to make a go of it, which is what you're doing. And I think that's right, in as far as you can manage it of course.
You'd definitely find the whole situation far more rewarding if you settled for enjoying your dad, as and when you can. I don't know if he'd come and visit alone. Maybe he would. Either way, the time with him should be about enriching both your life and his, not by fruitlessly trying to change things, but by revelling in the happiness of loving each other. So you both bear the burden of your mother. Fair enough. But that could just be accepted, and set quietly to one side. Couldn't it? And wouldn't it be nice?
I come from a family of six and I am the only girl. As long as I can remember, my mother has been depressed. She was in psychiatric care when I was younger, but she has not taken medication in the last 30 years, hence her down-hill spiral. Visiting her is like Negativity Central. My brothers don't care and we are not a close family.
My main concern is my dad. He is a quiet man who is bullied all day every day, walking on eggshells, he says, in case she explodes. He worked all his life. My mother didn't. But she controls the money and gives him small amounts. Yet she spends serious money on very expensive clothes for herself. She accuses him of attracting other women, and there are many women she hasn't spoken to for years as she thinks they fancy him. She tells tales about him, for example that he tried to push her, when in fact, as my father explained, she had got into a rage at him and tripped over. He still does all the shopping and cooking but I am very worried as they are getting old. She stays in every day moaning and crying. I hate visiting her as she will not listen to any helpful suggestions. Everyone else is to blame, not her. I no longer allow my children to visit as they feel uneasy when they are there.
I am married to a wonderful man who doesn't understand why I still visit. But I am still drawn. She has never hugged me or shown any emotion. But my dad always hugs and smiles, even though he is unhappy. She is making me very unhappy too. She needs help but won't accept any and my father is too weak to leave her. What do I do? It can't go on like this. Do I stay away and just ask my dad to visit us? Christmas was another nightmare.
Answer
You clearly love your dad, he clearly loves you, and it's wonderful to have that relationship. You can't, however, fight his battles for him. You can't change his relationship with your mother. You can't defend him from her bullying. Those are all tasks he can choose to do, or choose to avoid. And he's clearly choosing to avoid - for now, anyway. So be it. You must accept his decision.
With your dad's battles out of the way, you should have a somewhat clearer picture of your own battle with your mother. Because, of course, you're also fighting to get some love or recognition from her. I don't think you'll get it, one way or the other. She doesn't sound like a rewarding kind of mother. But you certainly won't get it by trying to make helpful suggestions on how to solve her problems. Don't you see? She doesn't want to solve things, she wants to complain. It's part of the dynamic of her personality - and the dynamic of her marriage too, for that matter.
Just imagine what it would be like if you totally accepted that you can't change her. Wouldn't that make it a whole lot easier to be around her? I mean, could you envisage fulfilling some sense of duty towards her by simply visiting, or helping out in some practical way, from time to time, without the burden of believing it's your task to fix things? Because to answer your husband's question about why you visit her, dumping all duty towards a parent is very hard to do. Most people try to make a go of it, which is what you're doing. And I think that's right, in as far as you can manage it of course.
You'd definitely find the whole situation far more rewarding if you settled for enjoying your dad, as and when you can. I don't know if he'd come and visit alone. Maybe he would. Either way, the time with him should be about enriching both your life and his, not by fruitlessly trying to change things, but by revelling in the happiness of loving each other. So you both bear the burden of your mother. Fair enough. But that could just be accepted, and set quietly to one side. Couldn't it? And wouldn't it be nice?
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
My Husband Is On A Constant Downer
Question
I'm feeling a bit desperate at the moment. My husband, I think, is depressed. Two years ago he was made redundant from his job, which he'd had for over twenty years. It involved being away from home on a regular basis, and he really loved it. Almost immediately he got another job, where he's based at home, so the problem is not unemployment. He hates it, and moans about it non-stop. I dread ringing him because I just get doom and gloom. Even going on holidays has lost all its joy because he moans almost from day one about having to go back.
He does have an option of a different job, but that would involve him being away from home for long periods and would basically mean me being on my own - something I put up with for over 20 years and don't really want to face again. During those years, I have had reason to suspect my husband of playing away. A couple of years ago I found texts on his phone to another woman. We got over that, but I'm still broken-hearted thinking about it.
We have two teenage daughters who are good and thoughtful and never cost us any worry. When things get really bad, my husband won't talk to me, or to them. They, in turn, refuse to humour him, and tell me not to. But I'm always pussy-footing around him, just to keep the peace. I know I shouldn't. My husband is bullying me emotionally. But I just don't know what to do.
I'm 50 years old and from the outside we look like we have it all. I sometimes feel like ending it all. I've never found it easy to make friends and I feel I'll have nobody if he leaves me. How can I learn to handle my marriage?
Answer
You don't need to learn how to handle your marriage - well it's certainly not your first task anyway. You need to learn how to handle yourself.
I salute your honesty. Now look at what you've told me. You live in daily terror that your husband will leave you. That's not about him, although undoubtedly he's playing on your vulnerability. It's about you. Your self-esteem is at rock-bottom. Your emotional independence is non-existent. You truly believe your very survival depends on your husband's presence. Worse, you don't feel you can make it even with him around. You're so fearful you feel you should perhaps end it all before disaster strikes. Isn't that truly shocking and seriously sad? What an impossibly hard time you've had all your life. And wouldn't you wonder what messages were signalled to you as a young girl growing up, which left you so lost.
Let me tell you the good news. This isn't about your husband. The focus on him is misplaced. This is about the belief system which you developed about yourself since childhood. This is about the thoughts that constantly circle in your brain, ideas of worthlessness, the sense of uselessness, the notion that there is nothing you can do to make yourself safe. You've clearly always felt like that. So when the opportunity arose, and he had to change jobs, you latched onto the opportunity of binding your husband close. This has clearly backfired. His constant whingeing over the past two years has simply left you feeling even more vulnerable.
Just for the record, your husband isn't depressed. He's pissed off. Instead of standing on his own two bullying feet, he's played the passive game, and failed to go for the job with travel. Maybe deep down he wasn't sure it would work out. Maybe he's scared of it, and just using your opposition as an excuse. Who knows. What we do know is that he's stayed, and is punishing you for that decision, making it sound like all his unhappiness is down to you. Let him off. Tell him to take the job he wants, and do so with a big smile. The current situation is intolerable - for you, I mean. Yes, I know you're worried about him playing away. But he could do that down the nearest cul-de-sac. And then tell you it was all your fault because you deprived him of the job of his dreams!
Then go to a counsellor and deal with your sense of helplessness. Word of mouth is always best in finding someone. If you wish, use the excuse of menopause and your need to get some support. That's sort of universal isn't it. The point is, you need help in facing the fact that your insecurity has nothing to do with your husband and everything to do with the picture you have of yourself. And no, that's not a statement of blame. You are the way you are because it was the best you could do with the emotional material your upbringing gave you. Now you're older and wiser and - although it doesn't feel like that right now - more courageous. The big step is always admitting there's a problem. You've done that. Now tackle it, privately, without telling anyone. It will be your private time, for you. Believe me, the very fact that you do that will subtly, but fundamentally, change the dynamic between you and your husband. Not to mention the shock he'll get when he's told he should take that job.
I'm feeling a bit desperate at the moment. My husband, I think, is depressed. Two years ago he was made redundant from his job, which he'd had for over twenty years. It involved being away from home on a regular basis, and he really loved it. Almost immediately he got another job, where he's based at home, so the problem is not unemployment. He hates it, and moans about it non-stop. I dread ringing him because I just get doom and gloom. Even going on holidays has lost all its joy because he moans almost from day one about having to go back.
He does have an option of a different job, but that would involve him being away from home for long periods and would basically mean me being on my own - something I put up with for over 20 years and don't really want to face again. During those years, I have had reason to suspect my husband of playing away. A couple of years ago I found texts on his phone to another woman. We got over that, but I'm still broken-hearted thinking about it.
We have two teenage daughters who are good and thoughtful and never cost us any worry. When things get really bad, my husband won't talk to me, or to them. They, in turn, refuse to humour him, and tell me not to. But I'm always pussy-footing around him, just to keep the peace. I know I shouldn't. My husband is bullying me emotionally. But I just don't know what to do.
I'm 50 years old and from the outside we look like we have it all. I sometimes feel like ending it all. I've never found it easy to make friends and I feel I'll have nobody if he leaves me. How can I learn to handle my marriage?
Answer
You don't need to learn how to handle your marriage - well it's certainly not your first task anyway. You need to learn how to handle yourself.
I salute your honesty. Now look at what you've told me. You live in daily terror that your husband will leave you. That's not about him, although undoubtedly he's playing on your vulnerability. It's about you. Your self-esteem is at rock-bottom. Your emotional independence is non-existent. You truly believe your very survival depends on your husband's presence. Worse, you don't feel you can make it even with him around. You're so fearful you feel you should perhaps end it all before disaster strikes. Isn't that truly shocking and seriously sad? What an impossibly hard time you've had all your life. And wouldn't you wonder what messages were signalled to you as a young girl growing up, which left you so lost.
Let me tell you the good news. This isn't about your husband. The focus on him is misplaced. This is about the belief system which you developed about yourself since childhood. This is about the thoughts that constantly circle in your brain, ideas of worthlessness, the sense of uselessness, the notion that there is nothing you can do to make yourself safe. You've clearly always felt like that. So when the opportunity arose, and he had to change jobs, you latched onto the opportunity of binding your husband close. This has clearly backfired. His constant whingeing over the past two years has simply left you feeling even more vulnerable.
Just for the record, your husband isn't depressed. He's pissed off. Instead of standing on his own two bullying feet, he's played the passive game, and failed to go for the job with travel. Maybe deep down he wasn't sure it would work out. Maybe he's scared of it, and just using your opposition as an excuse. Who knows. What we do know is that he's stayed, and is punishing you for that decision, making it sound like all his unhappiness is down to you. Let him off. Tell him to take the job he wants, and do so with a big smile. The current situation is intolerable - for you, I mean. Yes, I know you're worried about him playing away. But he could do that down the nearest cul-de-sac. And then tell you it was all your fault because you deprived him of the job of his dreams!
Then go to a counsellor and deal with your sense of helplessness. Word of mouth is always best in finding someone. If you wish, use the excuse of menopause and your need to get some support. That's sort of universal isn't it. The point is, you need help in facing the fact that your insecurity has nothing to do with your husband and everything to do with the picture you have of yourself. And no, that's not a statement of blame. You are the way you are because it was the best you could do with the emotional material your upbringing gave you. Now you're older and wiser and - although it doesn't feel like that right now - more courageous. The big step is always admitting there's a problem. You've done that. Now tackle it, privately, without telling anyone. It will be your private time, for you. Believe me, the very fact that you do that will subtly, but fundamentally, change the dynamic between you and your husband. Not to mention the shock he'll get when he's told he should take that job.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Is My Sister-in-Law Depressed?
Question
My sister-in-law got married last year. She has now been diagnosed with depression, and it appears she has been in a continuous state of depression for a number of years prior to the diagnosis.
During the time I have known her, I felt that, at times, she was miles away, distracted, disoriented even. And while she was pleasant in company, she sometimes looked unhappy when caught off-guard. But I would never have described her as being overly sad - or overly happy for that matter. Laid-back instead of happy, perhaps, and apathetic rather than sad, would have been my description.
My question is, could she have fallen in love, got engaged and got married while in this depressed state? And if not, what will happen when she is cured? I mean, did she merely drift along emotionally into marriage, or could she possibly have had genuinely loving feelings for her partner while depressed.
Answer
That's an interesting question, both in itself and in the fact that you ask it. What I'm wondering about is the relationship you have with your sister-in-law - because people never ask me theoretical, or academic, questions. But let's look at depression first.
It comes in several sizes. It can be so severe that the person is psychotic, which simply means out of touch with reality, imagining things if you like. It can be crippling, with a degree of exhaustion that makes it impossible to get out of bed. It can sensitise us to physical pain, numb emotions, freeze the mind into unhappy fuzziness. Sometimes it simply entails a pervasive bleakness, or the absence of all joy, where life is a daily grind of relentless, unrewarding effort. It can affect mind, heart and body - together or separately and to varying degree. Depression can also come and go.
Decisions can, of course, be made. Some are catastrophic, born of skewed sense of reality, like thinking a baby would be better off dead. Some are heartbreaking, like suicide. Some are just plain disasterous. Think of a widow selling up and moving to heavens only knows where while still grieving, or mistakenly thinking a quick second marriage might ease the pain. And some decisions, of course, are life-savers, like seeking help, or deep down having the wit to find the man of your dreams.
At this stage I'd say you're screaming. Because what I think you really wanted to know is whether or not your sister-in-law is a fraud. No need to be unhappy if this is the case. Depression in others drives us wild because it can seem so arbitrary. There's no definite diagnostic test either, no reading of a blood sample, or brain scan, which tells us it's really there. We just have to take a person's word for it, basically, and work around that. Certainly some symptoms are obvious. Many are not. Nor is the outcome predictable. There is no time-scale. It all depends.
I'd say what you need to do is butt out. Perhaps the family is making a huge fuss. Certainly your sister-in-law's depression is currently featuring pretty large in your life. Get it in perspective. Be supportive where you can. Don't get sucked in beyond a point that is reasonable. She has a husband and a family. And try and keep your opinions to yourself. The truth or otherwise of your sister-in-law's depression is not something you need to solve. It's not an argument you need to win, with anybody.
Depression is very real. Its extent is also often hidden. We do well to be kind and generous.
My sister-in-law got married last year. She has now been diagnosed with depression, and it appears she has been in a continuous state of depression for a number of years prior to the diagnosis.
During the time I have known her, I felt that, at times, she was miles away, distracted, disoriented even. And while she was pleasant in company, she sometimes looked unhappy when caught off-guard. But I would never have described her as being overly sad - or overly happy for that matter. Laid-back instead of happy, perhaps, and apathetic rather than sad, would have been my description.
My question is, could she have fallen in love, got engaged and got married while in this depressed state? And if not, what will happen when she is cured? I mean, did she merely drift along emotionally into marriage, or could she possibly have had genuinely loving feelings for her partner while depressed.
Answer
That's an interesting question, both in itself and in the fact that you ask it. What I'm wondering about is the relationship you have with your sister-in-law - because people never ask me theoretical, or academic, questions. But let's look at depression first.
It comes in several sizes. It can be so severe that the person is psychotic, which simply means out of touch with reality, imagining things if you like. It can be crippling, with a degree of exhaustion that makes it impossible to get out of bed. It can sensitise us to physical pain, numb emotions, freeze the mind into unhappy fuzziness. Sometimes it simply entails a pervasive bleakness, or the absence of all joy, where life is a daily grind of relentless, unrewarding effort. It can affect mind, heart and body - together or separately and to varying degree. Depression can also come and go.
Decisions can, of course, be made. Some are catastrophic, born of skewed sense of reality, like thinking a baby would be better off dead. Some are heartbreaking, like suicide. Some are just plain disasterous. Think of a widow selling up and moving to heavens only knows where while still grieving, or mistakenly thinking a quick second marriage might ease the pain. And some decisions, of course, are life-savers, like seeking help, or deep down having the wit to find the man of your dreams.
At this stage I'd say you're screaming. Because what I think you really wanted to know is whether or not your sister-in-law is a fraud. No need to be unhappy if this is the case. Depression in others drives us wild because it can seem so arbitrary. There's no definite diagnostic test either, no reading of a blood sample, or brain scan, which tells us it's really there. We just have to take a person's word for it, basically, and work around that. Certainly some symptoms are obvious. Many are not. Nor is the outcome predictable. There is no time-scale. It all depends.
I'd say what you need to do is butt out. Perhaps the family is making a huge fuss. Certainly your sister-in-law's depression is currently featuring pretty large in your life. Get it in perspective. Be supportive where you can. Don't get sucked in beyond a point that is reasonable. She has a husband and a family. And try and keep your opinions to yourself. The truth or otherwise of your sister-in-law's depression is not something you need to solve. It's not an argument you need to win, with anybody.
Depression is very real. Its extent is also often hidden. We do well to be kind and generous.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
I Hate How Fat I Am
January 17th, 2010
Question
I'm feeling very low at the moment. I'm 26 years old and hate how I look so much that it has taken over my whole life. Weight is my biggest issue, due to regular out-of-control binge eating. I'm fat and have horrible stretch-marks, a size 14 but only 5'4" tall - and that's after losing some weight recently. I also have a horrible lumpy shape and this, combined with my complete lack of style, means that I have hardly any clothes suitable to leave the house in. Every time I go shopping I find nothing I like to fit me and end up coming home empty-handed and depressed.
Now I rarely leave the house other than for work. Whenever I'm invited to a social event I feel nothing but deep anxiety and panic. My first thought is that I've nothing to wear. Then I start to imagine myself at the event, looking awful, being socially awkward, and feeling humiliated. I will then usually search quite desperately for something nice to wear, fail miserably, and then make an excuse not to go. Fortunately I no longer get very many invites. My anti-social attitude has ruined most of my friendships.
My mind is my worst enemy. Aside from my horrible negative thoughts about myself, I constantly imagine and suspect that other people are talking about me and laughing at me. I can't even eat a meal in a restaurant without feeling as if people are staring at the fat girl stuffing her face. The only good thing in my life is my boyfriend, who I know loves me in spite of how I look. I need him so much it scares me, because I don't know what I'd do if he left me.
I know I have poor self-esteem and am a bit paranoid. And I know that my view of the world is warped. But knowing all this doesn't help me. I want so much to be pretty and slim - a normal girl with a normal life.
Answer
There's no such thing as a normal girl with a normal life - well not the way you mean it anyway. What you're really looking for is an effortless life. That's not possible. Believe me, everyone has to put in hard graft, just to keep afloat. Staying scared inside our comfort zone invariably brings unhappiness, and indeed despair, no matter who we are or what we've got. At the moment, the effort to leave that comfort zone just seems too great to you. So you choose unhappiness.
It's not that you lack courage. It takes courage to get through the day, one day after another, feeling so ugly. It takes courage to be so terrifying dependent on your boyfriend. It takes courage to live with such frightening low self-esteem. So you are most definitely not a coward. Nor are you weak. You're just trying to avoid change. You don't want to use your courage differently. Like I said, your unhappiness is a choice.
No, I'm not saying you'd be happy doing things differently. You wouldn't. You'd be terrified. It would be hard work. The point is, you would be putting yourself on the road to happiness, starting the journey by actively taking charge. Self-esteem doesn't come with looking good. It comes, slowly, as we take control. The reason you are both paranoid and dependent is because other people are too important to you. You worry about what they think, or whether or not they will love you. You feel your emotional safety lies with them. Taking control means that you become your own anchor, your own arbiter of your worth, your own safe harbour. Taking control means being much less exposed.
You could try testing your courage with a small change - any change of your choice, just baby steps. Contact a self-help group for the binge eating like Bodywhys - the number is in the telephone book. Take up an exercise routine for your body shape. Seek help from a nice member of staff in your local boutique to choose a flattering clothes style. I won't go on with the list. You definitely know the score.
Can I tell you something I've discovered in life? There is no substitute for faith - which is the courage to take a blind leap into the unknown. We've already established how courageous you are. Are you ready to take that blind leap? Would you just trust that you can do it - and make that first step? Your choice.
Question
I'm feeling very low at the moment. I'm 26 years old and hate how I look so much that it has taken over my whole life. Weight is my biggest issue, due to regular out-of-control binge eating. I'm fat and have horrible stretch-marks, a size 14 but only 5'4" tall - and that's after losing some weight recently. I also have a horrible lumpy shape and this, combined with my complete lack of style, means that I have hardly any clothes suitable to leave the house in. Every time I go shopping I find nothing I like to fit me and end up coming home empty-handed and depressed.
Now I rarely leave the house other than for work. Whenever I'm invited to a social event I feel nothing but deep anxiety and panic. My first thought is that I've nothing to wear. Then I start to imagine myself at the event, looking awful, being socially awkward, and feeling humiliated. I will then usually search quite desperately for something nice to wear, fail miserably, and then make an excuse not to go. Fortunately I no longer get very many invites. My anti-social attitude has ruined most of my friendships.
My mind is my worst enemy. Aside from my horrible negative thoughts about myself, I constantly imagine and suspect that other people are talking about me and laughing at me. I can't even eat a meal in a restaurant without feeling as if people are staring at the fat girl stuffing her face. The only good thing in my life is my boyfriend, who I know loves me in spite of how I look. I need him so much it scares me, because I don't know what I'd do if he left me.
I know I have poor self-esteem and am a bit paranoid. And I know that my view of the world is warped. But knowing all this doesn't help me. I want so much to be pretty and slim - a normal girl with a normal life.
Answer
There's no such thing as a normal girl with a normal life - well not the way you mean it anyway. What you're really looking for is an effortless life. That's not possible. Believe me, everyone has to put in hard graft, just to keep afloat. Staying scared inside our comfort zone invariably brings unhappiness, and indeed despair, no matter who we are or what we've got. At the moment, the effort to leave that comfort zone just seems too great to you. So you choose unhappiness.
It's not that you lack courage. It takes courage to get through the day, one day after another, feeling so ugly. It takes courage to be so terrifying dependent on your boyfriend. It takes courage to live with such frightening low self-esteem. So you are most definitely not a coward. Nor are you weak. You're just trying to avoid change. You don't want to use your courage differently. Like I said, your unhappiness is a choice.
No, I'm not saying you'd be happy doing things differently. You wouldn't. You'd be terrified. It would be hard work. The point is, you would be putting yourself on the road to happiness, starting the journey by actively taking charge. Self-esteem doesn't come with looking good. It comes, slowly, as we take control. The reason you are both paranoid and dependent is because other people are too important to you. You worry about what they think, or whether or not they will love you. You feel your emotional safety lies with them. Taking control means that you become your own anchor, your own arbiter of your worth, your own safe harbour. Taking control means being much less exposed.
You could try testing your courage with a small change - any change of your choice, just baby steps. Contact a self-help group for the binge eating like Bodywhys - the number is in the telephone book. Take up an exercise routine for your body shape. Seek help from a nice member of staff in your local boutique to choose a flattering clothes style. I won't go on with the list. You definitely know the score.
Can I tell you something I've discovered in life? There is no substitute for faith - which is the courage to take a blind leap into the unknown. We've already established how courageous you are. Are you ready to take that blind leap? Would you just trust that you can do it - and make that first step? Your choice.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Feeling Hopeless
11th October, 2009
Question
I'm in my early thirties and have had enough of life. I feel I'm just going through the motions, without any purpose. Even if I do plan things, they don't turn out as expected. I was never the most confident person, but lately I have become even worse. I have absolutely no self-belief. I hate confrontations with people and am very paranoid about what others think of me. I don't want to do anything except stay at home and sleep.
I hate the job I'm in. I have no energy or interest, and it takes so much effort to do the smallest task. I would love to quit, but I have financial commitments. Given the recession, it wouldn't be the wisest move either. Anyway, my boss can't understand why it's taking me so long to do things, so it's only a mater of time before I get the boot. I get distracted along the way, or start thinking too much and put off the task. I get very anxious around other people, or where there's a lot of noise. I was never a very bright person, but I used to try my best. Now I've run out of energy.
I am afraid of growing old alone, but don't have the confidence to go out and find someone. I have never had anyone, but think a lot about it lately. I feel rotten inside about myself, so this doesn't help matters. I don't feel good enough. I'm trying to get over this, but every day my best intentions go very wrong. I've tried talking to the people close to me, but they just seem to give out to me, tell me cop myself on, and say they can't understand me at all.
I hope I don't sound selfish, but I really am very unhappy in myself. I would love to break the cycle, but as soon as I get happy, something happens to make me low again. I don't know how much more of this I can take.
Answer
You know I can't make a clinical diagnosis at this remove, but I think anyone looking in would recognise serious depression. Lack of energy, anxiety, difficulty concentrating, simple tasks seen as almost insurmountable, extreme loneliness, low self-esteem, helplessness, a sense of despair, and maybe above all, an almost complete absence of joy - that's just about a classic list of depressive symptoms isn't it?
As a young clinical psychologist, I was very insistent about the origins - and hence the cure - for depression. I saw it as an exclusively psychological problem, and therefore thought psychotherapy was the sole answer. I do still believe that depression needs to be treated by therapy - which means looking at the feelings, thoughts, beliefs, and behavioural patterns which keep the depression going. But I also now think that depression can be helped by intervention at a physical level - in other words working on the body, be that with medical drugs, serious dietary changes, an exercise routine, or some complementary therapy such as acupuncture. Body and mind work as one, and sometimes the body has to be helped first. You can get so stuck in exhaustion that you simply have no capacity for handling psychotherapy.
Of course you are not selfish. On the contrary you have been heroic in your struggle to help yourself. You've done that long enough on your own. Visit your doctor, if that's what makes you most comfortable. And then start searching for the pattern of treatment which suits you best. Depression is a real problem. You need real help. Go get it, tomorrow.
Question
I'm in my early thirties and have had enough of life. I feel I'm just going through the motions, without any purpose. Even if I do plan things, they don't turn out as expected. I was never the most confident person, but lately I have become even worse. I have absolutely no self-belief. I hate confrontations with people and am very paranoid about what others think of me. I don't want to do anything except stay at home and sleep.
I hate the job I'm in. I have no energy or interest, and it takes so much effort to do the smallest task. I would love to quit, but I have financial commitments. Given the recession, it wouldn't be the wisest move either. Anyway, my boss can't understand why it's taking me so long to do things, so it's only a mater of time before I get the boot. I get distracted along the way, or start thinking too much and put off the task. I get very anxious around other people, or where there's a lot of noise. I was never a very bright person, but I used to try my best. Now I've run out of energy.
I am afraid of growing old alone, but don't have the confidence to go out and find someone. I have never had anyone, but think a lot about it lately. I feel rotten inside about myself, so this doesn't help matters. I don't feel good enough. I'm trying to get over this, but every day my best intentions go very wrong. I've tried talking to the people close to me, but they just seem to give out to me, tell me cop myself on, and say they can't understand me at all.
I hope I don't sound selfish, but I really am very unhappy in myself. I would love to break the cycle, but as soon as I get happy, something happens to make me low again. I don't know how much more of this I can take.
Answer
You know I can't make a clinical diagnosis at this remove, but I think anyone looking in would recognise serious depression. Lack of energy, anxiety, difficulty concentrating, simple tasks seen as almost insurmountable, extreme loneliness, low self-esteem, helplessness, a sense of despair, and maybe above all, an almost complete absence of joy - that's just about a classic list of depressive symptoms isn't it?
As a young clinical psychologist, I was very insistent about the origins - and hence the cure - for depression. I saw it as an exclusively psychological problem, and therefore thought psychotherapy was the sole answer. I do still believe that depression needs to be treated by therapy - which means looking at the feelings, thoughts, beliefs, and behavioural patterns which keep the depression going. But I also now think that depression can be helped by intervention at a physical level - in other words working on the body, be that with medical drugs, serious dietary changes, an exercise routine, or some complementary therapy such as acupuncture. Body and mind work as one, and sometimes the body has to be helped first. You can get so stuck in exhaustion that you simply have no capacity for handling psychotherapy.
Of course you are not selfish. On the contrary you have been heroic in your struggle to help yourself. You've done that long enough on your own. Visit your doctor, if that's what makes you most comfortable. And then start searching for the pattern of treatment which suits you best. Depression is a real problem. You need real help. Go get it, tomorrow.
Sad About My Past
20th September, 2009
Question
I was married to a physically abusive man for 17 years and finally, at the age of 42, I found the courage to leave with my three children after a particularly bad assault. This is something I'm very proud of. I got counselling for a year and finally started to feel good about myself. That was ten years ago. What's bothering me is the way I behaved during those ten years.
I started drinking and going out with girlfriends on the town. I also became very promiscuous. I went on a couple of foreign holidays and had some weekends away. The sexual flings mostly happened on these occasions and I had about 15 sexual partners. Now I feel consumed with guilt and shame. I've been celibate for the past year, and only have one glass of wine when out for dinner.
I know it would be easy to blame my husband for my behaviour, but that would entail deceiving myself. Did I behave badly because of low self-worth? Or was it a new-found confidence in myself? Or was I trying to control and be powerful in these relationships? I feel so bad about it all. I was faithful to my husband during our marriage, although I wonder now was that just out of fear.
I don't want to go on beating myself up. I am a good mother and my children are in good jobs and good relationships. I don't want to be with anyone anymore and feel I will never have another sexual relationship. When I look back now I feel I was somebody else. I'm trying very hard to put the past behind me, and to friends and family I seem happy and optimistic. But when I close my door and am on my own again, the past comes back.
Answer
What hurts most about being abused is not the pain, social embarrassment or fear. It's the fact that we take it. It's the shame we feel when we look in the mirror. We deeply disgust ourselves. It doesn't matter whether the abuse is physical, emotional, intellectual, social or psychological, hidden or obvious, coming from family, husband, teacher, work colleague or alleged friend. We are gutted by our lack of dignity.
In that scenario we have two choices. We either agree that we are worthy of disgust, and at some level accept the abuse. Or we manage to see beyond our immediate situation, and argue to ourselves that we don't deserve this treatment. For most people that's not quite such a clear-cut choice. Most of us have our self-doubt. At the very least, most of us scan our conscience, examine our behaviour, generally check ourselves out to see if punishment is deserved - even if we fundamentally disagree with the form such punishment takes. You can, in other words, clearly see that your husband should not hit you, while still thinking that perhaps he has a point.
You got out, which is wonderful. Not easy when you're trapped with the responsibility of children. That doesn't mean your sense of self was totally intact. It just means you were not prepared to live with the violence. And it certainly doesn't mean that you've forgiven yourself for taking the punishment in the first place. I'd say, at a guess, that you went a bit wild because you were both giddy about your bravery at getting out, and still not terribly proud of yourself. The scars of accepting abuse run deep.
I'm glad you've got the booze in hand. I'm not so sure about the celibacy. Why wouldn't you find someone to love, and who loves you? The time has come to stop beating yourself up and look back, instead, with the gentle eye of compassion, forgiveness if you like, perhaps even an understanding pity, at the woman who took abuse, for whatever reasons, some of them practical, and finally fought back. You've won the badge of dignity. Wear it with pride.
Question
I was married to a physically abusive man for 17 years and finally, at the age of 42, I found the courage to leave with my three children after a particularly bad assault. This is something I'm very proud of. I got counselling for a year and finally started to feel good about myself. That was ten years ago. What's bothering me is the way I behaved during those ten years.
I started drinking and going out with girlfriends on the town. I also became very promiscuous. I went on a couple of foreign holidays and had some weekends away. The sexual flings mostly happened on these occasions and I had about 15 sexual partners. Now I feel consumed with guilt and shame. I've been celibate for the past year, and only have one glass of wine when out for dinner.
I know it would be easy to blame my husband for my behaviour, but that would entail deceiving myself. Did I behave badly because of low self-worth? Or was it a new-found confidence in myself? Or was I trying to control and be powerful in these relationships? I feel so bad about it all. I was faithful to my husband during our marriage, although I wonder now was that just out of fear.
I don't want to go on beating myself up. I am a good mother and my children are in good jobs and good relationships. I don't want to be with anyone anymore and feel I will never have another sexual relationship. When I look back now I feel I was somebody else. I'm trying very hard to put the past behind me, and to friends and family I seem happy and optimistic. But when I close my door and am on my own again, the past comes back.
Answer
What hurts most about being abused is not the pain, social embarrassment or fear. It's the fact that we take it. It's the shame we feel when we look in the mirror. We deeply disgust ourselves. It doesn't matter whether the abuse is physical, emotional, intellectual, social or psychological, hidden or obvious, coming from family, husband, teacher, work colleague or alleged friend. We are gutted by our lack of dignity.
In that scenario we have two choices. We either agree that we are worthy of disgust, and at some level accept the abuse. Or we manage to see beyond our immediate situation, and argue to ourselves that we don't deserve this treatment. For most people that's not quite such a clear-cut choice. Most of us have our self-doubt. At the very least, most of us scan our conscience, examine our behaviour, generally check ourselves out to see if punishment is deserved - even if we fundamentally disagree with the form such punishment takes. You can, in other words, clearly see that your husband should not hit you, while still thinking that perhaps he has a point.
You got out, which is wonderful. Not easy when you're trapped with the responsibility of children. That doesn't mean your sense of self was totally intact. It just means you were not prepared to live with the violence. And it certainly doesn't mean that you've forgiven yourself for taking the punishment in the first place. I'd say, at a guess, that you went a bit wild because you were both giddy about your bravery at getting out, and still not terribly proud of yourself. The scars of accepting abuse run deep.
I'm glad you've got the booze in hand. I'm not so sure about the celibacy. Why wouldn't you find someone to love, and who loves you? The time has come to stop beating yourself up and look back, instead, with the gentle eye of compassion, forgiveness if you like, perhaps even an understanding pity, at the woman who took abuse, for whatever reasons, some of them practical, and finally fought back. You've won the badge of dignity. Wear it with pride.
I Have Low Self-Esteem
15th March, 2009
Question
I met a guy on a night out nine months ago. We talked, kissed and I liked him. I asked him back to my place.
When we got outside the night-club I felt incredibly drunk, worse than I've ever been before. By the time we got to my house, I felt awful. I must have passed out. When I woke up, he had taken off my tights and underwear and was having sex with me. I remember feeling scared and panicked and asked him to stop. I wanted to push him off, but my arms felt really weak. He stopped eventually, got dressed, and left.
It was only when I woke up the next morning and saw that I was still wearing my dress that I started having flash-backs and realised what had happened. There was a condom on the floor. Otherwise I wouldn't even have known if he used protection. I felt really low and disgusted with myself, and angry with him. I really always thought this kind of thing only happened to stupid or slutty girls who drank too much. And I honestly don't consider myself to be that kind of person. It wasn't typical behaviour for me. I completely understand, too, that I gave him every signal that I wanted to sleep with him. And I probably would have chosen to do anyway. It was just that he didn't let me have a choice.
We met again by chance a short while later and he asked me if I'd go out with him. I know it sounds completely bizarre, and looking back I can't understand why, but at the time I felt relieved. In my own mind, going out with him again meant that it wasn't just some dirty one-night stand. I was also really embarrassed and, stupidly, wanted him to see that I'm not that kind of girl. I genuinely did grow to like him too. And he apologised frequently about that first night, saying that he was drunk too. But I wasn't ever really able to talk about it. Instead I tried to forget and just focus on the good things about him.
We started seeing each other regularly. He called it a relationship, but eventually it just became a question of meeting to have sex. This wasn't something I wanted, but I just went along with it. Time went by and I felt worse and worse about myself. I also began to hate him. I liked talking to him and felt better about myself when I was with him, but I didn't really enjoy sleeping with him. He was often really rough and wanted me to do things I wasn't comfortable with. I just liked being held afterwards. Of course I was back to feeling like dirt the next day, and he usually ignored me until he wanted to have sex again.
I have ended it now. I haven't told anyone the truth about it. I know I'm an idiot. I want to learn how to respect myself. How can I have a healthy relationship with someone?
Answer
Over-coming low self-esteem is hard, for two reasons. You have to believe you're worth it, even when deep down you seriously doubt it. You must act as though you respect yourself, even though you don't. You must trust that there is another you, and have the spiritual stamina to hold onto that vision, that promise of a better life. You're in a kind of psychological free-fall. It takes a lot of courage. It requires an act of faith.
It also requires discipline. It's a bit like making a New Year resolution. Say you decide to do Tai Chi for twenty minutes each morning. You know it's good for you, vital maybe if you're older or have a particular physical handicap. You may well also really enjoy it. It's still extraordinarily hard to develop and harden the habit. You'll regularly fall off the wagon, miss a morning, or even a whole week. That's because you have to break old habits in order to make way for this new one. You had a morning routine. Now you have to change it. Finding it hard isn't lack of character. Human beings are hard-wired for habit-making. That means the ones we have are seriously entrenched.
Finding out why you like yourself so little would help. A creative and caring counsellor would give you much-needed support on that road of emotional discovery. But the true key is the daily struggle of self-espect, be it as simple as accepting a thank-you for some work-elated task, or as serious as staying sober on a night-out. You are not an idiot. You are an intelligent and insightful woman. Putting little value on yourself was an act of self-preservation at some vulnerable stage in your life. Respect that, and start the process of change.
Question
I met a guy on a night out nine months ago. We talked, kissed and I liked him. I asked him back to my place.
When we got outside the night-club I felt incredibly drunk, worse than I've ever been before. By the time we got to my house, I felt awful. I must have passed out. When I woke up, he had taken off my tights and underwear and was having sex with me. I remember feeling scared and panicked and asked him to stop. I wanted to push him off, but my arms felt really weak. He stopped eventually, got dressed, and left.
It was only when I woke up the next morning and saw that I was still wearing my dress that I started having flash-backs and realised what had happened. There was a condom on the floor. Otherwise I wouldn't even have known if he used protection. I felt really low and disgusted with myself, and angry with him. I really always thought this kind of thing only happened to stupid or slutty girls who drank too much. And I honestly don't consider myself to be that kind of person. It wasn't typical behaviour for me. I completely understand, too, that I gave him every signal that I wanted to sleep with him. And I probably would have chosen to do anyway. It was just that he didn't let me have a choice.
We met again by chance a short while later and he asked me if I'd go out with him. I know it sounds completely bizarre, and looking back I can't understand why, but at the time I felt relieved. In my own mind, going out with him again meant that it wasn't just some dirty one-night stand. I was also really embarrassed and, stupidly, wanted him to see that I'm not that kind of girl. I genuinely did grow to like him too. And he apologised frequently about that first night, saying that he was drunk too. But I wasn't ever really able to talk about it. Instead I tried to forget and just focus on the good things about him.
We started seeing each other regularly. He called it a relationship, but eventually it just became a question of meeting to have sex. This wasn't something I wanted, but I just went along with it. Time went by and I felt worse and worse about myself. I also began to hate him. I liked talking to him and felt better about myself when I was with him, but I didn't really enjoy sleeping with him. He was often really rough and wanted me to do things I wasn't comfortable with. I just liked being held afterwards. Of course I was back to feeling like dirt the next day, and he usually ignored me until he wanted to have sex again.
I have ended it now. I haven't told anyone the truth about it. I know I'm an idiot. I want to learn how to respect myself. How can I have a healthy relationship with someone?
Answer
Over-coming low self-esteem is hard, for two reasons. You have to believe you're worth it, even when deep down you seriously doubt it. You must act as though you respect yourself, even though you don't. You must trust that there is another you, and have the spiritual stamina to hold onto that vision, that promise of a better life. You're in a kind of psychological free-fall. It takes a lot of courage. It requires an act of faith.
It also requires discipline. It's a bit like making a New Year resolution. Say you decide to do Tai Chi for twenty minutes each morning. You know it's good for you, vital maybe if you're older or have a particular physical handicap. You may well also really enjoy it. It's still extraordinarily hard to develop and harden the habit. You'll regularly fall off the wagon, miss a morning, or even a whole week. That's because you have to break old habits in order to make way for this new one. You had a morning routine. Now you have to change it. Finding it hard isn't lack of character. Human beings are hard-wired for habit-making. That means the ones we have are seriously entrenched.
Finding out why you like yourself so little would help. A creative and caring counsellor would give you much-needed support on that road of emotional discovery. But the true key is the daily struggle of self-espect, be it as simple as accepting a thank-you for some work-elated task, or as serious as staying sober on a night-out. You are not an idiot. You are an intelligent and insightful woman. Putting little value on yourself was an act of self-preservation at some vulnerable stage in your life. Respect that, and start the process of change.
My Husband Is Withdrawn
22nd February, 2009
Question
I've been married to a man 7 years my senior for the past three years. We also have a beautiful son whom we both adore. I became pregnant in the very early stages of our relationship which was a huge upset to me. I was very young and hadn't even finished my third level education. However the love and support of my husband made me feel confident and secure enough to carry on. I am now in my late '20's - and how things have changed.
My husband lost his job six months ago and since then I'm the sole earner, with responsibility for all bills. I have done very well in my job, got promoted regularly, and have also returned to finish my education. I'm also doing all the housework. And recently, I seem to have become responsible for the majority of interaction with our son.
My husband has become increasingly bad-tempered and impatient, not to mention lazy and unwilling to help. He doesn't even drop our son off to day-care. He refuses to cook or do any household chores. He is paranoid and believes everyone is against him. We have no sex life. I cannot cope. My husband refuses to even apply for jobs, saying there is nothing out there, even though I offer constant help with application forms, or whatever.
In company he is arrogant and loud, often causing me great embarrassment. I have no family close to me, so no support. I try to tell him how much I care and that losing his job was not a reflection on him personally, but I am finding it increasingly hard to love him. He shows so little respect or thought for me.
I know that when we love we should do so unconditionally. But it is getting to the stage where life would be easier as a single parent. He refuses to talk and we have no quality time together. I am not sleeping and find I regularly want to burst into tears. He used to be such a wonderful father, but now has little interest in listening to our son, and rarely responds or shows interest in him when he's around.
As a parent I won't let my relationship damage my precious son. I've worked so hard to show him the values of respect and love. My husband sneers when I suggest counselling, even though I've suggested joint counselling, and do understand that there may be areas I need to improve on too. What do I do?
Answer
I've always had a problem with this notion of unconditional love. It's far too woolly and leaves people floundering in seriously flawed thinking.
Your husband's behaviour is unacceptable. This is true even if he is seriously psychiatrically ill. What I mean is that your situation is not to be borne. That's what you're really telling me. The only question, therefore, is whether or not your husband is capable of what psychiatrists call 'insight'. If he's mentally ill - which is possible - then you need to get him professional help, basically whether he wants it or not. And if this proves impossible, then you have to seriously think about changing your circumstances. You cannot have a situation where someone is incapable of controlling himself because he's mentally ill, but at the same time retains control by refusing help. You are entitled to a place of peace.
If your husband is not mentally ill, then he is making a choice to behave as he does. And since the behaviour is unacceptable, he has to take the consequences of his actions. Of course every loving partner gives the other person a period of grace when things go badly wrong. I'm not talking emotional savagery here. And no, I'm can't spell out the time limit. The point is, you've been generous and your husband's period of grace is up. Otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me. You'd still be soldiering on.
His ego has taken a huge battering. That much is clear. Instead of facing that fact, he's retreated into non-functioning and nastiness. That's not good for him, let alone his marriage. In that sense you're not doing your husband any favours by allowing it to continue. He has to be forced to face reality. That means you have to face reality. Your husband has removed himself, not only from his marriage, but also from all responsibility for himself - bad news, for everyone.
The time for tea and sympathy is over. Deal with what's going on. This isn't about job applications anymore. This is about serious dysfunction. Check out what you really feel. Can you confront your husband with the unacceptability of his behaviour? Is that safe? Or is he so far out of it all that you suspect, say, serious depression? If so, get professional help. The bottom line is simple. Things have to change. Start the process.
Question
I've been married to a man 7 years my senior for the past three years. We also have a beautiful son whom we both adore. I became pregnant in the very early stages of our relationship which was a huge upset to me. I was very young and hadn't even finished my third level education. However the love and support of my husband made me feel confident and secure enough to carry on. I am now in my late '20's - and how things have changed.
My husband lost his job six months ago and since then I'm the sole earner, with responsibility for all bills. I have done very well in my job, got promoted regularly, and have also returned to finish my education. I'm also doing all the housework. And recently, I seem to have become responsible for the majority of interaction with our son.
My husband has become increasingly bad-tempered and impatient, not to mention lazy and unwilling to help. He doesn't even drop our son off to day-care. He refuses to cook or do any household chores. He is paranoid and believes everyone is against him. We have no sex life. I cannot cope. My husband refuses to even apply for jobs, saying there is nothing out there, even though I offer constant help with application forms, or whatever.
In company he is arrogant and loud, often causing me great embarrassment. I have no family close to me, so no support. I try to tell him how much I care and that losing his job was not a reflection on him personally, but I am finding it increasingly hard to love him. He shows so little respect or thought for me.
I know that when we love we should do so unconditionally. But it is getting to the stage where life would be easier as a single parent. He refuses to talk and we have no quality time together. I am not sleeping and find I regularly want to burst into tears. He used to be such a wonderful father, but now has little interest in listening to our son, and rarely responds or shows interest in him when he's around.
As a parent I won't let my relationship damage my precious son. I've worked so hard to show him the values of respect and love. My husband sneers when I suggest counselling, even though I've suggested joint counselling, and do understand that there may be areas I need to improve on too. What do I do?
Answer
I've always had a problem with this notion of unconditional love. It's far too woolly and leaves people floundering in seriously flawed thinking.
Your husband's behaviour is unacceptable. This is true even if he is seriously psychiatrically ill. What I mean is that your situation is not to be borne. That's what you're really telling me. The only question, therefore, is whether or not your husband is capable of what psychiatrists call 'insight'. If he's mentally ill - which is possible - then you need to get him professional help, basically whether he wants it or not. And if this proves impossible, then you have to seriously think about changing your circumstances. You cannot have a situation where someone is incapable of controlling himself because he's mentally ill, but at the same time retains control by refusing help. You are entitled to a place of peace.
If your husband is not mentally ill, then he is making a choice to behave as he does. And since the behaviour is unacceptable, he has to take the consequences of his actions. Of course every loving partner gives the other person a period of grace when things go badly wrong. I'm not talking emotional savagery here. And no, I'm can't spell out the time limit. The point is, you've been generous and your husband's period of grace is up. Otherwise you wouldn't be talking to me. You'd still be soldiering on.
His ego has taken a huge battering. That much is clear. Instead of facing that fact, he's retreated into non-functioning and nastiness. That's not good for him, let alone his marriage. In that sense you're not doing your husband any favours by allowing it to continue. He has to be forced to face reality. That means you have to face reality. Your husband has removed himself, not only from his marriage, but also from all responsibility for himself - bad news, for everyone.
The time for tea and sympathy is over. Deal with what's going on. This isn't about job applications anymore. This is about serious dysfunction. Check out what you really feel. Can you confront your husband with the unacceptability of his behaviour? Is that safe? Or is he so far out of it all that you suspect, say, serious depression? If so, get professional help. The bottom line is simple. Things have to change. Start the process.
I'm Alway Day Dreaming
8th February, 2009
Question
I spend over half my waking hours day-dreaming about being somebody else, somewhere else, living a dramatically different life. That's not because I have a miserable real-life existence. I don't. I have everything I need. I am lucky to have a good job, a lovely partner and lots of friends. And I come across as happy and confident. But leave me on my own, and within a few minutes I've transported myself into another existence entirely, having conversations with fictitious people, or ones who do exist but are definitely not with me. My partner doesn't even comment anymore when he finds me staring into space or chatting to myself. He thinks I'm eccentric and ignores it, which is a huge relief.
This hasn't affected my life in any bad way. I've done OK for myself overall. Although I suppose I could have got a lot further in life if I'd had a little more focus. I find that I'm quite good at most jobs I do.
I've tried to analyse why I became a double agent in my own life. I will admit that when I'm anxious, angry or unhappy, the tendency to day-dream increases and the daydreams become even more fantastical. So I know it's sometimes a coping mechanism. Sometimes, though, it's just fun. I'm also aware that my childhood was a tense, unhappy time, for several reasons. I realise all families are dysfunctional at times, but I became very isolated. I'm not close to my family even now, and seldom see them. It doesn't bother me most of the time. I do feel anxious when asked about them. Later I'll then have a fictitious argument with them, justifying why I feel the way I do. In the real world, I have no intention of even talking to any of my family as I don't consider many of them to be good people. But sometimes, like I said, I just enjoy it.
Is the way I am normal? Or if not normal, is it acceptable? Is it not true that everyone has their eccentricities, their unique way of coping with the demanding world we live in? Can I continue to believe that it's OK to daydream my way through life? Or am I in denial about my mental state?
Answer
I'm a huge fan of day-dreaming. It allows us to be all the people we are not. By that I don't mean Kiera Knightly, or whoever is the current male dream squeeze. I'm talking about being the bitch, witch, foul-tempered harridan of Shakespearean proportions, when we're angry, or star of every show, when we're shy and self-conscious. Fantasies allow us to rise to every occasion - without the damage to our peace of mind real action might engender.
There is, of course, a serious down-side. We can substitute dreaming for necessary self-assertion. Sometimes when you're anxious, angry or unhappy you need to change the circumstances of your existence. Anxiety and anger are not always misplaced. Unhappiness is not always the result of some fault-line within you. Sometimes something needs to be done. Retreating into a private world is then wrong.
The question is not about normalcy. It's about appropriateness. Imagination is a skill. Don't use it as a substitute for the courage to challenge, when challenging is what is required.
Question
I spend over half my waking hours day-dreaming about being somebody else, somewhere else, living a dramatically different life. That's not because I have a miserable real-life existence. I don't. I have everything I need. I am lucky to have a good job, a lovely partner and lots of friends. And I come across as happy and confident. But leave me on my own, and within a few minutes I've transported myself into another existence entirely, having conversations with fictitious people, or ones who do exist but are definitely not with me. My partner doesn't even comment anymore when he finds me staring into space or chatting to myself. He thinks I'm eccentric and ignores it, which is a huge relief.
This hasn't affected my life in any bad way. I've done OK for myself overall. Although I suppose I could have got a lot further in life if I'd had a little more focus. I find that I'm quite good at most jobs I do.
I've tried to analyse why I became a double agent in my own life. I will admit that when I'm anxious, angry or unhappy, the tendency to day-dream increases and the daydreams become even more fantastical. So I know it's sometimes a coping mechanism. Sometimes, though, it's just fun. I'm also aware that my childhood was a tense, unhappy time, for several reasons. I realise all families are dysfunctional at times, but I became very isolated. I'm not close to my family even now, and seldom see them. It doesn't bother me most of the time. I do feel anxious when asked about them. Later I'll then have a fictitious argument with them, justifying why I feel the way I do. In the real world, I have no intention of even talking to any of my family as I don't consider many of them to be good people. But sometimes, like I said, I just enjoy it.
Is the way I am normal? Or if not normal, is it acceptable? Is it not true that everyone has their eccentricities, their unique way of coping with the demanding world we live in? Can I continue to believe that it's OK to daydream my way through life? Or am I in denial about my mental state?
Answer
I'm a huge fan of day-dreaming. It allows us to be all the people we are not. By that I don't mean Kiera Knightly, or whoever is the current male dream squeeze. I'm talking about being the bitch, witch, foul-tempered harridan of Shakespearean proportions, when we're angry, or star of every show, when we're shy and self-conscious. Fantasies allow us to rise to every occasion - without the damage to our peace of mind real action might engender.
There is, of course, a serious down-side. We can substitute dreaming for necessary self-assertion. Sometimes when you're anxious, angry or unhappy you need to change the circumstances of your existence. Anxiety and anger are not always misplaced. Unhappiness is not always the result of some fault-line within you. Sometimes something needs to be done. Retreating into a private world is then wrong.
The question is not about normalcy. It's about appropriateness. Imagination is a skill. Don't use it as a substitute for the courage to challenge, when challenging is what is required.
My Husband Is Suicidal
18th January, 2009
Question
My husband was diagnosed with depression three years ago. He is on sick leave ever since, takes medication, and attends a therapist once a month. Last year he attempted suicide and almost didn't make it.
He spends most of his life at the moment sleeping, or sitting in front of the television. He is very easy to live with as all the moody behaviour has ceased and our house runs very smoothly and is stress-free. He doesn't want to engage with outsiders other than members of his family - and here is my question. When any one of his family visit, he is bright, cheerful and talkative. But as soon as they leave, he disappears to the bedroom again.
How can you be depressed one minute and not the next? I heard a doctor on the TV say that depression should get the same care and sympathy as a physical condition. But a person who is physically ill can't turn off the symptoms at will, which is what my husband can do with his depression. He is 55 years old now. Is this the way he's going to remain? I'm afraid to challenge him on anything in case he attempts to take his own life again. I'm also on tender-hooks if I have to leave the house for any length of time.
We got no advice from the hospital, or the psychologist, after my husband's suicide attempt. In fact, not one member of the medical staff spoke to me or my family about the episode. I'm so confused I don't know how to cope anymore.
Answer
You're on permanent suicide watch. That's not sustainable. You're going to have to systematically think through possible solutions. Of course your husband has to be cared for. But so do you. I can't, of course, give you the answer. I can lay it on the line, which will hopefully help you clarify your thoughts.
Yes, to answer your question, depression can seem capricious. Your husband probably makes a huge effort when his family come to visit. And yes, that is very frustrating. Why can't he do it for you, and why can't he do it all the time, and what's this depression really about - all reasonable questions. The problem is that such questions actually get you nowhere. Your husband probably doesn't even know, not at any conscious level anyway. All I can tell you is that serious depression is accompanied by terrible exhaustion. The effort to be cheerful can't be sustained. His family visit occasionally. You're there all the time. It may well be as simple as that, at some level.
This occasional lifting of mood is also part of the reason why a suicide watch is so wearing. Such good moments don't let you off the hook. You know only too well that some people go smiling to their own death. In short, not only are your husband's bright moments frustrating, because it seems he can pick and choose, they don't even bring relief from worry, because they don't promise any real improvement.
The hard fact of life is that looking for answers to your husband's depression gets you nowhere. You have to focus instead on your own well-being. To do that, you need to get several things straight. You can't keep your husband completely safe. Trying to do so is an empty exercise. Someone who wants to commit suicide will find a way, no matter how watchful you are. Short of a lock-down cell in a secure unit, there's no stopping the determined seeker of eternal oblivion.
That's why you do need to have a serious discussion with your husband's therapist. You need help in finding a balance between reasonable care of your husband and reasonable care of yourself. You need your sleep, time off, relaxation, fun, friends, a regular break from home - the lot. That means getting professional guidance on what constitutes an appropriate input of care from you. Indeed, you need to know how your husband's doctor rates the suicide risk. In short, you need serious back-up.
You can't send your husband to suicide either. None of us can make someone else kill themselves. If he does, it will be his decision. Certainly you should be kind, thoughtful and loving. You cannot be a doormat. You have to be able to challenge your husband on ordinary things. I understand. You don't know the true parameters of his depression. For example, if he doesn't shave, is that part of his illness? Maybe it is, in the sense that he has opted out of all self-care. But can't you, then, politely ask him to do so?
Nobody can live eternally walking on eggshells. There is an onus on us to be kind to those who are sick. There is, however, a huge difference between being kind and being totally silenced. I can't pick your path for you. I do repeat, however, that you urgently need professional guidance about finding a realistic role in this sad situation.
Question
My husband was diagnosed with depression three years ago. He is on sick leave ever since, takes medication, and attends a therapist once a month. Last year he attempted suicide and almost didn't make it.
He spends most of his life at the moment sleeping, or sitting in front of the television. He is very easy to live with as all the moody behaviour has ceased and our house runs very smoothly and is stress-free. He doesn't want to engage with outsiders other than members of his family - and here is my question. When any one of his family visit, he is bright, cheerful and talkative. But as soon as they leave, he disappears to the bedroom again.
How can you be depressed one minute and not the next? I heard a doctor on the TV say that depression should get the same care and sympathy as a physical condition. But a person who is physically ill can't turn off the symptoms at will, which is what my husband can do with his depression. He is 55 years old now. Is this the way he's going to remain? I'm afraid to challenge him on anything in case he attempts to take his own life again. I'm also on tender-hooks if I have to leave the house for any length of time.
We got no advice from the hospital, or the psychologist, after my husband's suicide attempt. In fact, not one member of the medical staff spoke to me or my family about the episode. I'm so confused I don't know how to cope anymore.
Answer
You're on permanent suicide watch. That's not sustainable. You're going to have to systematically think through possible solutions. Of course your husband has to be cared for. But so do you. I can't, of course, give you the answer. I can lay it on the line, which will hopefully help you clarify your thoughts.
Yes, to answer your question, depression can seem capricious. Your husband probably makes a huge effort when his family come to visit. And yes, that is very frustrating. Why can't he do it for you, and why can't he do it all the time, and what's this depression really about - all reasonable questions. The problem is that such questions actually get you nowhere. Your husband probably doesn't even know, not at any conscious level anyway. All I can tell you is that serious depression is accompanied by terrible exhaustion. The effort to be cheerful can't be sustained. His family visit occasionally. You're there all the time. It may well be as simple as that, at some level.
This occasional lifting of mood is also part of the reason why a suicide watch is so wearing. Such good moments don't let you off the hook. You know only too well that some people go smiling to their own death. In short, not only are your husband's bright moments frustrating, because it seems he can pick and choose, they don't even bring relief from worry, because they don't promise any real improvement.
The hard fact of life is that looking for answers to your husband's depression gets you nowhere. You have to focus instead on your own well-being. To do that, you need to get several things straight. You can't keep your husband completely safe. Trying to do so is an empty exercise. Someone who wants to commit suicide will find a way, no matter how watchful you are. Short of a lock-down cell in a secure unit, there's no stopping the determined seeker of eternal oblivion.
That's why you do need to have a serious discussion with your husband's therapist. You need help in finding a balance between reasonable care of your husband and reasonable care of yourself. You need your sleep, time off, relaxation, fun, friends, a regular break from home - the lot. That means getting professional guidance on what constitutes an appropriate input of care from you. Indeed, you need to know how your husband's doctor rates the suicide risk. In short, you need serious back-up.
You can't send your husband to suicide either. None of us can make someone else kill themselves. If he does, it will be his decision. Certainly you should be kind, thoughtful and loving. You cannot be a doormat. You have to be able to challenge your husband on ordinary things. I understand. You don't know the true parameters of his depression. For example, if he doesn't shave, is that part of his illness? Maybe it is, in the sense that he has opted out of all self-care. But can't you, then, politely ask him to do so?
Nobody can live eternally walking on eggshells. There is an onus on us to be kind to those who are sick. There is, however, a huge difference between being kind and being totally silenced. I can't pick your path for you. I do repeat, however, that you urgently need professional guidance about finding a realistic role in this sad situation.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
I Would Dearly Love A Proper Family
23rd November, 2008
Question
Over the past couple of years my life has descended into a nightmare. There seems to be no way out. After a long time of being a single girl, I met the man I thought was my Prince Charming. I was mad about this guy and he seemed crazy about me too.
Very early on, however, he started to cool off and I saw him only infrequently. Around this time I found I was pregnant and we were both over the moon. We got engaged and this was the most intensely exciting period of my entire life. All my dreams were coming true. And then my worst nightmare happened. I miscarried. The engagement, and indeed the relationship, was called off. We continued to see each other on a casual basis, as this is all that was on offer from him. I finally found the strength to end things, just over a year ago.
I'm 35 and so sad and bitterly disappointed. I dread to think where I would be if it were not for the antidepressants which allow me to function. It kills me that if it were not for sheer bad luck, I would be ensconced with my dream man and a few toddlers. I believe an awful lot of marriages wouldn't have taken place if a pregnancy hadn't first occurred. At this point I feel there is something or someone out to get me.
I am considered very attractive, funny, a good friend. I have a job I love, my own house, and hobbies I enjoy. However, I have always had the most dreadful luck with men, through no fault of my own. Several of them said to me later that they were nasty and I was so nice. It seems that is the story of my life. So I have given up any hope of a committed romantic relationship and the one burning need in my life now is to have a baby, even if that is without a man. My miscarriage has greatly intensified this need. It is really all I can think about now.
I am considering donor insemination, but deep down I don't know if I could love a baby as much when I didn't know who the father was. I would dearly love a proper family, but feel like I have tried forever and the longer I go without a baby the sadder I become. Time can't heal this one.
Answer
No, time of itself won't heal your distress. Neither will a patch-up job. And donor insemination for a single girl is a patch-up job, for the vast majority anyway. It's good to see your emotional honesty. You want a proper family, a man who will love you and be a father to your babies. You want the package. You're right. Being a single mother without even a father in sight is not the answer for you.
I'm not about to knock the deep need for motherhood. On the contrary, I believe it's biological, comes with all the force of nature, and is hence far more than merely psychological. I don't doubt the urgency of your desire.
I do also know that we human beings have an infinite capacity for emotional side-tracking. You are an unhappy woman who longs to be loved. That longing, I believe, is all being loaded onto your desire for motherhood. Your sadness about yourself, your sense of being unfulfilled, is all getting shunted into the question of conception. That, if you like, is banishing you onto a false battleground. Your task is not to get comfortable with the notion of a donor pregnancy. Your task is to iron out your difficulties with men and emotional relationships.
Your problem is not lack of babies. It's what you call your bad luck with men. This, of course is not about luck. And no, I'm not in the blame game. If the men were nasty and you were nice, then you didn't defend yourself. You failed to insist on being treated properly. Instead, it seems, you flee into self-delusion. Look at what you tell me of your so-called Prince Charming. He had already distanced himself, was presumably still sleeping with you but no longer speaking of love, got hauled back in only when you became pregnant, and then ran once you miscarried.
The pain of being you is so severe that you have to dodge it in order to survive. It doesn't have to be that way. You are an intelligent, attractive and creative woman. You're also very brave. Put those qualities to work. Get proper professional help to dig out that deep feeling of unworthiness which clearly dogs your footsteps. And do it now.
Question
Over the past couple of years my life has descended into a nightmare. There seems to be no way out. After a long time of being a single girl, I met the man I thought was my Prince Charming. I was mad about this guy and he seemed crazy about me too.
Very early on, however, he started to cool off and I saw him only infrequently. Around this time I found I was pregnant and we were both over the moon. We got engaged and this was the most intensely exciting period of my entire life. All my dreams were coming true. And then my worst nightmare happened. I miscarried. The engagement, and indeed the relationship, was called off. We continued to see each other on a casual basis, as this is all that was on offer from him. I finally found the strength to end things, just over a year ago.
I'm 35 and so sad and bitterly disappointed. I dread to think where I would be if it were not for the antidepressants which allow me to function. It kills me that if it were not for sheer bad luck, I would be ensconced with my dream man and a few toddlers. I believe an awful lot of marriages wouldn't have taken place if a pregnancy hadn't first occurred. At this point I feel there is something or someone out to get me.
I am considered very attractive, funny, a good friend. I have a job I love, my own house, and hobbies I enjoy. However, I have always had the most dreadful luck with men, through no fault of my own. Several of them said to me later that they were nasty and I was so nice. It seems that is the story of my life. So I have given up any hope of a committed romantic relationship and the one burning need in my life now is to have a baby, even if that is without a man. My miscarriage has greatly intensified this need. It is really all I can think about now.
I am considering donor insemination, but deep down I don't know if I could love a baby as much when I didn't know who the father was. I would dearly love a proper family, but feel like I have tried forever and the longer I go without a baby the sadder I become. Time can't heal this one.
Answer
No, time of itself won't heal your distress. Neither will a patch-up job. And donor insemination for a single girl is a patch-up job, for the vast majority anyway. It's good to see your emotional honesty. You want a proper family, a man who will love you and be a father to your babies. You want the package. You're right. Being a single mother without even a father in sight is not the answer for you.
I'm not about to knock the deep need for motherhood. On the contrary, I believe it's biological, comes with all the force of nature, and is hence far more than merely psychological. I don't doubt the urgency of your desire.
I do also know that we human beings have an infinite capacity for emotional side-tracking. You are an unhappy woman who longs to be loved. That longing, I believe, is all being loaded onto your desire for motherhood. Your sadness about yourself, your sense of being unfulfilled, is all getting shunted into the question of conception. That, if you like, is banishing you onto a false battleground. Your task is not to get comfortable with the notion of a donor pregnancy. Your task is to iron out your difficulties with men and emotional relationships.
Your problem is not lack of babies. It's what you call your bad luck with men. This, of course is not about luck. And no, I'm not in the blame game. If the men were nasty and you were nice, then you didn't defend yourself. You failed to insist on being treated properly. Instead, it seems, you flee into self-delusion. Look at what you tell me of your so-called Prince Charming. He had already distanced himself, was presumably still sleeping with you but no longer speaking of love, got hauled back in only when you became pregnant, and then ran once you miscarried.
The pain of being you is so severe that you have to dodge it in order to survive. It doesn't have to be that way. You are an intelligent, attractive and creative woman. You're also very brave. Put those qualities to work. Get proper professional help to dig out that deep feeling of unworthiness which clearly dogs your footsteps. And do it now.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
The Dark Path Of Self Destruction
11th May, 2008
Question
I'm a single, middle-aged woman. For the past six years I've been in a relationship with a divorced man who is good kind, decent and committed to me.
My life has improved in many ways since I met him. Depression has receded, I've discovered new career opportunities, and feel quite a distance from the rocky years of eating disorders, bad work moves and psychiatric hospitalisation.
Despite all this, my mind is pre-occupied with negative thoughts about my partner, despite knowing that he's the kindest man I've ever met. Perhaps this is part of my self-loathing, wondering what kind of person would love me as he clearly does. I'm acutely tuned into every nuance of his behaviour, every aspect of his behaviour, and find them all intensely irritating. I try my very best to behave in a positive way, but I know that, generally speaking, my attitude is not kindly. I do keep a lid on it, most of the time, which seems to keep us together.
I don't want to lose him. I want to be in this relationship because I love him and not because of the distance I've travelled since meeting him. When we first met, my joy was endless. He was more reticent. It now seems that the roles have reversed. He has grown into a more mature love, while I still want the mad heady stuff, even at my age.
I regret this path of self-destruction that I seem to be on, which is taking me back to the dark place I was in before I met my partner. I would love to think we could be together always. I'm lost.
Answer
Ah. Gratitude is hard to do isn't it? I don't just mean gratitude towards a partner - although a bit of that mightn't come amiss. I mean gratefulness for our good fortune. We welcome it with open arms, and then rage at the reality don't we? What I hope to let you see is that this has nothing to do with your partner. He just happens to be there.
Gratitude is grounded in self-esteem. Luck, love, kindness, tenderness, care, consideration - none of them can be truly taken on board unless we unabashedly believe we're worth it. And believing you're worth it isn't just some simple statement, some surface arrogance, a question of putting on a pretty face. It's a quiet confidence, deeply felt, that we deserve to be treated well. You haven't got that confidence. Instead, your self-belief is tentative.
Deep down we all have an almost innate feeling of fair play, which says we're worthy. We're born with it. For many of us, however, early learning teaches us differently, tells us we are bad, unlovable, unworthy. That leaves us with a fractured sense of self. And we go into emotional hiding. Or lead shadow lives, as Tony Humphreys might say in his marvellous book 'Whose Life are You Living?'
You know this, you've given me the list - depression, eating disorders, poor career moves, psychiatric hospitalisations. Not a happy history, but the first step to self-esteem is to understand that all of it was necessary. Your emotional history, like everyone's, was about psychological survival, a courageous attempt to handle the negative messages, to stay safe, to hang on to that stubborn sense of self-worth. Your psyche was doing its level best, being truly creative. Don't knock it.
And then you got lucky, met the nice man, and several things happened almost simultaneously. That basic belief in yourself rejoiced. At the same time, deep-felt anger at the injustice of not being properly recognised all your life began to surface. And to cap it all, the damaged part of you began to doubt your luck, began to wonder if you deserve the love this man brings.
Think of two continental shelves - like they have in California - grinding into each other and throwing up earthquakes, which shake up places like Los Angeles. Your deep belief in yourself, and your almost equally strong self-doubt, are now clashing. That seismic shift has you, almost literally, grinding your teeth. And you lash out - or think angry irritable impatient thoughts - about your partner. Inner turmoil is always easier if we pretend it's external - which is why we kick the dog, find the husband excruciatingly annoying, focus on what others do wrong, rather than focussing on our own internal distress.
There's a battle going on, and the combatants are old mates of yours, self-belief and self-belittling. This is known territory, old ground you've gone over lots of times. You're a seasoned campaigner. You're not going to give in now are you? Do talk therapy. Check out your depression with your doctor. That edgy irritability can be a mild form of mania. And mania is merely a desperate bid at flying the flag of self-belief, when your old demons try to do you down.
Nurture that self-belief. Listen with love to that courageous voice which insists she's worth it. And have a little more faith in your man, who doesn't love foolishly, but well.
Question
I'm a single, middle-aged woman. For the past six years I've been in a relationship with a divorced man who is good kind, decent and committed to me.
My life has improved in many ways since I met him. Depression has receded, I've discovered new career opportunities, and feel quite a distance from the rocky years of eating disorders, bad work moves and psychiatric hospitalisation.
Despite all this, my mind is pre-occupied with negative thoughts about my partner, despite knowing that he's the kindest man I've ever met. Perhaps this is part of my self-loathing, wondering what kind of person would love me as he clearly does. I'm acutely tuned into every nuance of his behaviour, every aspect of his behaviour, and find them all intensely irritating. I try my very best to behave in a positive way, but I know that, generally speaking, my attitude is not kindly. I do keep a lid on it, most of the time, which seems to keep us together.
I don't want to lose him. I want to be in this relationship because I love him and not because of the distance I've travelled since meeting him. When we first met, my joy was endless. He was more reticent. It now seems that the roles have reversed. He has grown into a more mature love, while I still want the mad heady stuff, even at my age.
I regret this path of self-destruction that I seem to be on, which is taking me back to the dark place I was in before I met my partner. I would love to think we could be together always. I'm lost.
Answer
Ah. Gratitude is hard to do isn't it? I don't just mean gratitude towards a partner - although a bit of that mightn't come amiss. I mean gratefulness for our good fortune. We welcome it with open arms, and then rage at the reality don't we? What I hope to let you see is that this has nothing to do with your partner. He just happens to be there.
Gratitude is grounded in self-esteem. Luck, love, kindness, tenderness, care, consideration - none of them can be truly taken on board unless we unabashedly believe we're worth it. And believing you're worth it isn't just some simple statement, some surface arrogance, a question of putting on a pretty face. It's a quiet confidence, deeply felt, that we deserve to be treated well. You haven't got that confidence. Instead, your self-belief is tentative.
Deep down we all have an almost innate feeling of fair play, which says we're worthy. We're born with it. For many of us, however, early learning teaches us differently, tells us we are bad, unlovable, unworthy. That leaves us with a fractured sense of self. And we go into emotional hiding. Or lead shadow lives, as Tony Humphreys might say in his marvellous book 'Whose Life are You Living?'
You know this, you've given me the list - depression, eating disorders, poor career moves, psychiatric hospitalisations. Not a happy history, but the first step to self-esteem is to understand that all of it was necessary. Your emotional history, like everyone's, was about psychological survival, a courageous attempt to handle the negative messages, to stay safe, to hang on to that stubborn sense of self-worth. Your psyche was doing its level best, being truly creative. Don't knock it.
And then you got lucky, met the nice man, and several things happened almost simultaneously. That basic belief in yourself rejoiced. At the same time, deep-felt anger at the injustice of not being properly recognised all your life began to surface. And to cap it all, the damaged part of you began to doubt your luck, began to wonder if you deserve the love this man brings.
Think of two continental shelves - like they have in California - grinding into each other and throwing up earthquakes, which shake up places like Los Angeles. Your deep belief in yourself, and your almost equally strong self-doubt, are now clashing. That seismic shift has you, almost literally, grinding your teeth. And you lash out - or think angry irritable impatient thoughts - about your partner. Inner turmoil is always easier if we pretend it's external - which is why we kick the dog, find the husband excruciatingly annoying, focus on what others do wrong, rather than focussing on our own internal distress.
There's a battle going on, and the combatants are old mates of yours, self-belief and self-belittling. This is known territory, old ground you've gone over lots of times. You're a seasoned campaigner. You're not going to give in now are you? Do talk therapy. Check out your depression with your doctor. That edgy irritability can be a mild form of mania. And mania is merely a desperate bid at flying the flag of self-belief, when your old demons try to do you down.
Nurture that self-belief. Listen with love to that courageous voice which insists she's worth it. And have a little more faith in your man, who doesn't love foolishly, but well.
I Have No Friends And A History Of Depression
31st May 2009
Question
I am a teen with a history of depression. With help of therapy and anti-depressants I have tried to put my life back together, but to no avail. I was bullied when I was very young, and started self-harming at the age of 12. As a result, I am very shy and I find it very difficult to make friends. In fact I have no friends. I recently wrote a book and sent it off to a publisher, trying to get it published, to no avail. This made my mood slip even lower and made me attempt suicide recently.
I have a very loving mother, who is a great support to me, but other than that I have no-one else in the world. I'm also going into a difficult year at school next autumn and I am afraid I might crack. I don't know what to do.
Answer
The thought processes of victims are becoming more and more apparent on this page aren't they? In fact the whole shaping of a victim's mindset is getting clearer isn't it?
You were bullied when you were small. You didn't know how to defend yourself. So you started self-harming. Unable to express anger towards the world which was treating you badly, you took your anger out on yourself. Others might have smashed up their bedroom, or a neighbour's car, or mother's best dishes. You blamed yourself, and started cutting, or whatever form your self-harm takes. Mixed in with your anger was a form of self-hate. Instead of despising the bullies, you sort of joined forces with them and despised yourself. Psychologists would say you internalised your anger. It's a behaviour pattern which you need to break. Victims, however, don't feel they have any power. How can you break a behaviour pattern, if you've no power? Isn't that it?
You're bright. Can't you see the catch? You're living in a time warp. When you were small and defenceless, some mindless idiots picked on you, exposed your very real helplessness, played on it, and you developed your victim mindset. The point is, you're not that little child anymore. Even if you don't feel physically powerful, you are certainly capable of being intellectually powerful now. You wrote a book. You can write your own life-script, or rewrite it.
What's getting in your way is the other plague of victim status, namely unrealistic expectations. You wrote a book, which was wonderful. It was rejected for publication, which is normal. You took it hard, which was unrealistic. This is where being a teenager and being a victim forms such an unhappy alliance. You're too young to have the wisdom, indeed the knowledge, that publishing is a tough business. And victims of every age take failure badly, make too big a thing of it, are unrealistic about how life really works, and hence feel both anguished and very very angry when something doesn't work out - anger which then feeds their low self-esteem.
Sorry. I'm writing a psychological treatise here aren't I? I'm just trying to appeal to your obvious intelligence, since the written word can't wrap you in the kind of warmth that a personal session with a therapist might.
I stumbled across an excellent movie on TV recently. 'Stranger Than Fiction' it was called, the story of a man who realised he was a character in a well-know author's book, his life being written as he lived it. I know that sounds crappy, but actually it was a brilliant movie. It gave me the idea about you writing your own script. Because we do, actually, write our own scripts. Our unconscious minds are constantly at the creative task of trying to guide us safely through life's vicissitudes. That sometimes means living in the shadows, as you do with your depression.
Our task in life is to regularly do a reality check. Do I still need to hide? Or maybe, more precisely, is there another, better, way to hide, now that I'm older, and less helpless? What appropriate outlet is there for the real me? Like I said, you write the script. And here are some thoughts, merely from my perspective, yours to build on, or totally disregard: You are bright, creative and have the staying power to write a whole book. You have the capacity to be on your own. See all that as a huge strength. You are young and physically healthy. Use that by taking up some sport, to create a better body/mind balance and help dissipate legitimate anger. Better still, do some martial art, which will also leave you feeling powerful without having to prove it. Check out some physical therapy such as acupuncture to help combat the depression. Hang onto your therapist as a sounding board for faulty thinking - an inevitable part of being a teen. Recognise the responsibility you have to your mother. You can't commit suicide and leave her with the consequences. That's what loving people is all about, hanging in there.
Question
I am a teen with a history of depression. With help of therapy and anti-depressants I have tried to put my life back together, but to no avail. I was bullied when I was very young, and started self-harming at the age of 12. As a result, I am very shy and I find it very difficult to make friends. In fact I have no friends. I recently wrote a book and sent it off to a publisher, trying to get it published, to no avail. This made my mood slip even lower and made me attempt suicide recently.
I have a very loving mother, who is a great support to me, but other than that I have no-one else in the world. I'm also going into a difficult year at school next autumn and I am afraid I might crack. I don't know what to do.
Answer
The thought processes of victims are becoming more and more apparent on this page aren't they? In fact the whole shaping of a victim's mindset is getting clearer isn't it?
You were bullied when you were small. You didn't know how to defend yourself. So you started self-harming. Unable to express anger towards the world which was treating you badly, you took your anger out on yourself. Others might have smashed up their bedroom, or a neighbour's car, or mother's best dishes. You blamed yourself, and started cutting, or whatever form your self-harm takes. Mixed in with your anger was a form of self-hate. Instead of despising the bullies, you sort of joined forces with them and despised yourself. Psychologists would say you internalised your anger. It's a behaviour pattern which you need to break. Victims, however, don't feel they have any power. How can you break a behaviour pattern, if you've no power? Isn't that it?
You're bright. Can't you see the catch? You're living in a time warp. When you were small and defenceless, some mindless idiots picked on you, exposed your very real helplessness, played on it, and you developed your victim mindset. The point is, you're not that little child anymore. Even if you don't feel physically powerful, you are certainly capable of being intellectually powerful now. You wrote a book. You can write your own life-script, or rewrite it.
What's getting in your way is the other plague of victim status, namely unrealistic expectations. You wrote a book, which was wonderful. It was rejected for publication, which is normal. You took it hard, which was unrealistic. This is where being a teenager and being a victim forms such an unhappy alliance. You're too young to have the wisdom, indeed the knowledge, that publishing is a tough business. And victims of every age take failure badly, make too big a thing of it, are unrealistic about how life really works, and hence feel both anguished and very very angry when something doesn't work out - anger which then feeds their low self-esteem.
Sorry. I'm writing a psychological treatise here aren't I? I'm just trying to appeal to your obvious intelligence, since the written word can't wrap you in the kind of warmth that a personal session with a therapist might.
I stumbled across an excellent movie on TV recently. 'Stranger Than Fiction' it was called, the story of a man who realised he was a character in a well-know author's book, his life being written as he lived it. I know that sounds crappy, but actually it was a brilliant movie. It gave me the idea about you writing your own script. Because we do, actually, write our own scripts. Our unconscious minds are constantly at the creative task of trying to guide us safely through life's vicissitudes. That sometimes means living in the shadows, as you do with your depression.
Our task in life is to regularly do a reality check. Do I still need to hide? Or maybe, more precisely, is there another, better, way to hide, now that I'm older, and less helpless? What appropriate outlet is there for the real me? Like I said, you write the script. And here are some thoughts, merely from my perspective, yours to build on, or totally disregard: You are bright, creative and have the staying power to write a whole book. You have the capacity to be on your own. See all that as a huge strength. You are young and physically healthy. Use that by taking up some sport, to create a better body/mind balance and help dissipate legitimate anger. Better still, do some martial art, which will also leave you feeling powerful without having to prove it. Check out some physical therapy such as acupuncture to help combat the depression. Hang onto your therapist as a sounding board for faulty thinking - an inevitable part of being a teen. Recognise the responsibility you have to your mother. You can't commit suicide and leave her with the consequences. That's what loving people is all about, hanging in there.
I Don't Get Any Respect
26th April, 2009
Question
I'm lost. I never know when to let things go and when to make myself heard. When I let things go, as in someone walking all over me, I feel like a passive aggressive, keeping all the anger inside, seething, and often waiting to get my own back. I mean, how can I prevent something happening again, if I let it go? What does it say about me?
Yet when I seek to be heard, something which doesn't come easily to me, I often come up against a brick wall. A lot of people just want what they want, and don't care about me, or anyone else. For example, a neighbour has a house alarm which regularly goes off, and is left ringing for hours. Yet I know that if I complained, I'd simply get the brush-off. But if my alarm was left ringing the door would be knocked down with complaints and I would sort it out as soon as possible.
I'm seething as I write because I realise that I don't get any respect. Yet I pay due respect to others. I want to do something about that discrepancy. I've done a personal development course and am quite confident, but people scare me. I suppose I'm not a particularly sociable person. Certainly I don't feel I'm exactly a lover of people. As a result, I'm basically walked on.
Answer
If your immediate distress has actually been caused by this neighbour's alarm, then let's get something straight here. Problems with neighbours are notoriously difficult. You can get a barring order on a family member, if things get tough enough. But terrible neighbours are an entirely different ball-game. Self-assertion simply doesn't come into it. A neighbour leaves his barking dog out all day. He does that because it suits him. Sure, it's a lack of respect. But it's his disrespectful personality, rather than any failure on your part to command respect. It's nothing personal. The same applies to your neighbour and his alarm system. He simply hasn't bothered to get one which times out. He's careless, feckless, anti-social, a pain in the ass. It happens. That's bad luck, not poor personal skills on your part.
That said, if you haven't complained yet, then do. It's a simple first step in self-assertion. Nobody can read your mind. Perhaps the idiot next door doesn't even know his alarm has disturbed you. Never underestimate other people's lack of imagination. So put him in the picture. And make your request clear. You'd like him to up-grade his alarm system, or at least get it serviced. And you think two weeks would be a reasonable time-span. And you'd be prepared to help him out by being around when the contractor calls - you know, in case your neighbour genuinely works miles away at a job that doesn't give him domestic leave. All I'm saying is that you should not lose heart if he fails to play ball. It's him, not you.
We command respect by respecting ourselves. Yes, everybody wants their own way. That's why each individual has to create what psychologists call personal boundaries. They differ. A very good friend of mine is happy to wait. I'm punctual, and find other people's tardiness disconcerting. But we have to recognise that there's a fine line, somewhere, between being abused, and accommodating others. Self-assertion is not about having it all your own way. It's about saying what you want, and then working out a compromise. If you feel walked on, then two things have happened. You haven't articulated your desires in the first place. Or you've failed to find the point at which you stay stop, when those desires are ignored. Or both. This has nothing to do with disliking people. It's about a failure to like yourself. Start practicing.
Question
I'm lost. I never know when to let things go and when to make myself heard. When I let things go, as in someone walking all over me, I feel like a passive aggressive, keeping all the anger inside, seething, and often waiting to get my own back. I mean, how can I prevent something happening again, if I let it go? What does it say about me?
Yet when I seek to be heard, something which doesn't come easily to me, I often come up against a brick wall. A lot of people just want what they want, and don't care about me, or anyone else. For example, a neighbour has a house alarm which regularly goes off, and is left ringing for hours. Yet I know that if I complained, I'd simply get the brush-off. But if my alarm was left ringing the door would be knocked down with complaints and I would sort it out as soon as possible.
I'm seething as I write because I realise that I don't get any respect. Yet I pay due respect to others. I want to do something about that discrepancy. I've done a personal development course and am quite confident, but people scare me. I suppose I'm not a particularly sociable person. Certainly I don't feel I'm exactly a lover of people. As a result, I'm basically walked on.
Answer
If your immediate distress has actually been caused by this neighbour's alarm, then let's get something straight here. Problems with neighbours are notoriously difficult. You can get a barring order on a family member, if things get tough enough. But terrible neighbours are an entirely different ball-game. Self-assertion simply doesn't come into it. A neighbour leaves his barking dog out all day. He does that because it suits him. Sure, it's a lack of respect. But it's his disrespectful personality, rather than any failure on your part to command respect. It's nothing personal. The same applies to your neighbour and his alarm system. He simply hasn't bothered to get one which times out. He's careless, feckless, anti-social, a pain in the ass. It happens. That's bad luck, not poor personal skills on your part.
That said, if you haven't complained yet, then do. It's a simple first step in self-assertion. Nobody can read your mind. Perhaps the idiot next door doesn't even know his alarm has disturbed you. Never underestimate other people's lack of imagination. So put him in the picture. And make your request clear. You'd like him to up-grade his alarm system, or at least get it serviced. And you think two weeks would be a reasonable time-span. And you'd be prepared to help him out by being around when the contractor calls - you know, in case your neighbour genuinely works miles away at a job that doesn't give him domestic leave. All I'm saying is that you should not lose heart if he fails to play ball. It's him, not you.
We command respect by respecting ourselves. Yes, everybody wants their own way. That's why each individual has to create what psychologists call personal boundaries. They differ. A very good friend of mine is happy to wait. I'm punctual, and find other people's tardiness disconcerting. But we have to recognise that there's a fine line, somewhere, between being abused, and accommodating others. Self-assertion is not about having it all your own way. It's about saying what you want, and then working out a compromise. If you feel walked on, then two things have happened. You haven't articulated your desires in the first place. Or you've failed to find the point at which you stay stop, when those desires are ignored. Or both. This has nothing to do with disliking people. It's about a failure to like yourself. Start practicing.
Disillusioned With Life And Very Anxious
19th April 2009
Question
I've been seeing a therapist for over two years now. As a 30-year old man, I have become disillusioned with life, feel very low, and find it hard to communicate without severe anxiety. I am beginning to despise myself - and I have no idea why.
I even feel a fraud in my good job that I worked so hard to train for. I have recently been promoted to a leadership role, but now have this idea that some men are not meant to lead, and that I am just a follower. But despite improving my diet, doing exercise and attending therapy, I cannot find the underlying reason for all these negative feelings.
I am totally open and honest with the therapist, and am willing to address all issues, or try anything, but am finding it increasingly difficult to deal with the loneliness and isolation. What more can I do?
Answer
People shut down their involvement with the world when they are trying to bury rage. That rage is the result of an emotional wound. It is a terrifying mix of pain, helplessness and anger. It threatens to overwhelm us. So we batten down the hatches.
Disengaging from the world is a subtle, but all-pervasive process. Look at what you're telling me. You don't just feel lonely and isolated. Your disconnection is now affecting even something concrete like the career position you worked so hard to achieve. Added to your absence of joy is now an absence of any sense of achievement. That's a serious shut-down isn't it?
There is, however, something positive going on. Working its way up through all that disillusion and disengagement is an angry attitude to yourself. Yes, you talk in terms of despising yourself. And no, that's not pleasant. Nor is it appropriate, since you have no reason to despise yourself, or in any way be angry with yourself. But strange as it might sound, feeling angry, in whatever form, is progress. Hiding in depression seemed the only way your vulnerable psyche could manage until now. So any glimpse of that anger means you're slowly getting stronger.
Yes, it gets harder before it gets easier. That's because therapy involves dismantling our protective emotional shield. How else can light be shed on the truth? And of course you need to be careful. You need to recognise the fact that anger at yourself is just a first tentative step, an apparently safe way to feel your anger. It's still an emotional red herring. As you become psychologically more sure-footed, your anger will slowly shift onto the real cause of your emotional pain. No, I don't know the cause. I just know there is a cause.
Obviously you need to discuss all this with your therapist. It's very important you don't stay stuck on the step of self-dislike. You are a good man, working hard to get it right. Respect that. Your psyche is being as brave as it can be. Admire that. You have such huge courage. Acknowledge that.You're on the road to discovery, and joy. Believe that.
Question
I've been seeing a therapist for over two years now. As a 30-year old man, I have become disillusioned with life, feel very low, and find it hard to communicate without severe anxiety. I am beginning to despise myself - and I have no idea why.
I even feel a fraud in my good job that I worked so hard to train for. I have recently been promoted to a leadership role, but now have this idea that some men are not meant to lead, and that I am just a follower. But despite improving my diet, doing exercise and attending therapy, I cannot find the underlying reason for all these negative feelings.
I am totally open and honest with the therapist, and am willing to address all issues, or try anything, but am finding it increasingly difficult to deal with the loneliness and isolation. What more can I do?
Answer
People shut down their involvement with the world when they are trying to bury rage. That rage is the result of an emotional wound. It is a terrifying mix of pain, helplessness and anger. It threatens to overwhelm us. So we batten down the hatches.
Disengaging from the world is a subtle, but all-pervasive process. Look at what you're telling me. You don't just feel lonely and isolated. Your disconnection is now affecting even something concrete like the career position you worked so hard to achieve. Added to your absence of joy is now an absence of any sense of achievement. That's a serious shut-down isn't it?
There is, however, something positive going on. Working its way up through all that disillusion and disengagement is an angry attitude to yourself. Yes, you talk in terms of despising yourself. And no, that's not pleasant. Nor is it appropriate, since you have no reason to despise yourself, or in any way be angry with yourself. But strange as it might sound, feeling angry, in whatever form, is progress. Hiding in depression seemed the only way your vulnerable psyche could manage until now. So any glimpse of that anger means you're slowly getting stronger.
Yes, it gets harder before it gets easier. That's because therapy involves dismantling our protective emotional shield. How else can light be shed on the truth? And of course you need to be careful. You need to recognise the fact that anger at yourself is just a first tentative step, an apparently safe way to feel your anger. It's still an emotional red herring. As you become psychologically more sure-footed, your anger will slowly shift onto the real cause of your emotional pain. No, I don't know the cause. I just know there is a cause.
Obviously you need to discuss all this with your therapist. It's very important you don't stay stuck on the step of self-dislike. You are a good man, working hard to get it right. Respect that. Your psyche is being as brave as it can be. Admire that. You have such huge courage. Acknowledge that.You're on the road to discovery, and joy. Believe that.
Friday, January 22, 2010
I Am No Longer Pretty
Question
I have recently returned to work but find my confidence is not what it was. For a start, I am finding it difficult to adjust to my changed appearance and body shape and am very self-conscious. This is made worse by the fact that it's happening to me at a time when appearance seems to be everything. Although most of the younger people I work with are nice and friendly, I feel a bit like a fish out of water.
I have come to liken middle age to puberty. In my early and mid-teens I felt very self-conscious and awkward, and the same feelings are coming back to me now. Like in my teens, I don't know who I am anymore or what I'm supposed to be about. Except that I am now going down the other side of the hill which is depressing.
I look at other women my age and they seem to have adapted to the faster pace of life we are now all forced to live. I have no older sisters or mother to ask how to cope. How do I adjust to looking different than I did most of my adult life? When I look in the mirror now I don't see me, I see my mother. Don't get me wrong, I loved my mother but this is a very big change for me. I used to be slim, could eat what I liked, and never put on an inch. Now it seems I only have to think about eating and my stomach expands! This is really affecting my quality of life and how I perceive myself. And, of course, I have no way of knowing how others see me.
I was never a particularly gregarious person. I am the perfect candidate for becoming invisible in middle age. How can I cope with the 'new' me?
Answer
It's wonderful that you want to - meet the challenge of middle-age I mean. Going back to work was clearly a blessing in disguise. Certainly it's disconcerting to feel so uncomfortable. But look at what you're going to gain - or regain - namely a strong sense of self. We need that, because the real problems not being invisible to others. The problem is being a bit of a blur in our own eyes. How can you properly fight your own corner when you're not sure who you actually are? How can you even interact with others?
Your social isolation certainly doesn't help. The women you see around you have had to adjust just like you. The difference, if any, is that they probably talked to their friends, to the woman who runs the local boutique, to their beautician, their hairdresser, their next-door neighbour about weight-gain, suitable clothes, how to age with grace, or defy age with camouflage, or flaunt what they have.
Yes, I know that's all 'girlie' talk. Behind it lies a deeper vein. Identity - or the 'new' you - is not one great leap, one flash of lightening, one grand insight and there you are. It's a thousand steps, many of which you take tentatively. The thing is, we make such adjustments all the time. Think about how differently we have to mother a child, from total care as infants to cautious concern on the sidelines as they muddle through their marriages. What's knocked you sideways is not the necessity to change, but the suddenness with which you've had to face it.
You're intelligent with a great sense of humour. Tackle this stage of your life with excitement and joy. Flick through the magazines. Check the shops for the assistance of personal dressers. Join weight-watchers. Find a new hairdresser. Talk to your younger colleagues about the trendiest mobile, how to text, or most importantly of all - which cup of coffee to try out. You get my drift.
How do others see you? They already know you're nice, smart and good fun as well as professionally competent. They probably guess, too, that you're feeling vulnerable. Let them in on that vulnerability. There is nothing more attractive in this world than uncertainty openly admitted. I like your analogy with feeling like a teenager again. There is, however, a huge difference. You have the character and certainty of a life lived somewhat longer than that shy 17 year-old you once were. You'll be able to take help, without feeling threatened. Go talk. And enjoy.
I have recently returned to work but find my confidence is not what it was. For a start, I am finding it difficult to adjust to my changed appearance and body shape and am very self-conscious. This is made worse by the fact that it's happening to me at a time when appearance seems to be everything. Although most of the younger people I work with are nice and friendly, I feel a bit like a fish out of water.
I have come to liken middle age to puberty. In my early and mid-teens I felt very self-conscious and awkward, and the same feelings are coming back to me now. Like in my teens, I don't know who I am anymore or what I'm supposed to be about. Except that I am now going down the other side of the hill which is depressing.
I look at other women my age and they seem to have adapted to the faster pace of life we are now all forced to live. I have no older sisters or mother to ask how to cope. How do I adjust to looking different than I did most of my adult life? When I look in the mirror now I don't see me, I see my mother. Don't get me wrong, I loved my mother but this is a very big change for me. I used to be slim, could eat what I liked, and never put on an inch. Now it seems I only have to think about eating and my stomach expands! This is really affecting my quality of life and how I perceive myself. And, of course, I have no way of knowing how others see me.
I was never a particularly gregarious person. I am the perfect candidate for becoming invisible in middle age. How can I cope with the 'new' me?
Answer
It's wonderful that you want to - meet the challenge of middle-age I mean. Going back to work was clearly a blessing in disguise. Certainly it's disconcerting to feel so uncomfortable. But look at what you're going to gain - or regain - namely a strong sense of self. We need that, because the real problems not being invisible to others. The problem is being a bit of a blur in our own eyes. How can you properly fight your own corner when you're not sure who you actually are? How can you even interact with others?
Your social isolation certainly doesn't help. The women you see around you have had to adjust just like you. The difference, if any, is that they probably talked to their friends, to the woman who runs the local boutique, to their beautician, their hairdresser, their next-door neighbour about weight-gain, suitable clothes, how to age with grace, or defy age with camouflage, or flaunt what they have.
Yes, I know that's all 'girlie' talk. Behind it lies a deeper vein. Identity - or the 'new' you - is not one great leap, one flash of lightening, one grand insight and there you are. It's a thousand steps, many of which you take tentatively. The thing is, we make such adjustments all the time. Think about how differently we have to mother a child, from total care as infants to cautious concern on the sidelines as they muddle through their marriages. What's knocked you sideways is not the necessity to change, but the suddenness with which you've had to face it.
You're intelligent with a great sense of humour. Tackle this stage of your life with excitement and joy. Flick through the magazines. Check the shops for the assistance of personal dressers. Join weight-watchers. Find a new hairdresser. Talk to your younger colleagues about the trendiest mobile, how to text, or most importantly of all - which cup of coffee to try out. You get my drift.
How do others see you? They already know you're nice, smart and good fun as well as professionally competent. They probably guess, too, that you're feeling vulnerable. Let them in on that vulnerability. There is nothing more attractive in this world than uncertainty openly admitted. I like your analogy with feeling like a teenager again. There is, however, a huge difference. You have the character and certainty of a life lived somewhat longer than that shy 17 year-old you once were. You'll be able to take help, without feeling threatened. Go talk. And enjoy.
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