Posts Tagged ‘dad

16
May
25

The Most Painful of Holidays

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As I’ve grown older, holidays have lost their charms. They’ve become overly hyped means of stimulating the economy, encrypted teases from our governments. They sure are not the warm, fuzzy festivals of glowing lights and bounties of delicious treats I once thought they were. And, no matter how you try to entice me, it’s not going to be easy changing my mind after becoming so nauseous and bitter. But, please, don’t cast me out into the street to rot. I have reasons.

If you grew up with the “gene” for being a generous provider, someone who likes to lay out a spread of delights on any given special day, you’re not me. I was raised by two clashing deities who may want to be generous but consistently pull back in some way that cripples my own generosity. At one moment, they may seem generous…and, the next, they will reveal how they cut corners or saved a buck. If they can get anything at a discount, they will try. And, if they have to pay regular/retail price, they will complain for days.

While that may all just sound like wise budget thinking, they go beyond wise budget thinking. My dad will go so far that you may call him a thief. My mom can be quite the miser and yet carelessly discard something that should have been treated with greater respect and appreciation. Gifts people thought would please her get “donated” to Goodwill, where she will retreat to spend another dollar on something that once cost five, just to add that to a pile that goes nowhere until she decides to replace it.

When we, their kids, try to do something kind and generous for others, we often get “corrected” by our parents for being too generous. We’re spending too much. We’re trying too hard. We’re just going to pay for it, later. Try as we may to be kind, generous and thoughtful, our parents will find a way to ruin the good vibes…and probably drive whoever we are attempting to please away, for good.

So, when I see others being generous, I feel sick and uncomfortable. I feel like cheap scum. I cannot just fork over money to fill a room with joys. I’m always hearing my parents talk about saving money and how my generosity won’t truly be appreciated. I cannot give someone ten presents instead of just one I think they will really like. Nor can I give someone a present I really like and hope they will like it as much. I tend to shop with the other person in mind…not myself. [And, if you’re wondering why I even bring up such a point, you just need to know my family.]

Certain holidays are particularly unpleasant. They are the parent-related special days. This includes my parents’ birthdays. [I wonder if they will be worse when my parents are no longer able to face me.]

Mothers Day is probably the worst because my mother has drained every ounce of warmth I could possibly feel on that day for her. I have no ability–zero creativity–to please her. Even if I could muster up some craft project or favor I could do her, she would find a reason to complain. That’s just how bitter and wrong she has become. If she is ever pleased by anyone, it’s really hard to know because the best she can do is put on a good face in front of guests. So, first, you have to be a guest stopping by her house. If you have to spend more than a day with her, you’ll surely see her other side. But, if you are just stopping by, you’re sure to get a silly, oblivious smile which will make you think she’s the most classy, charming woman in the world.

If you seek an explanation for what a mother could do to drain her artistic son’s ability to create happiness for her, don’t prod because I will be here all day venting my vile feelings. No therapist could handle that baggage without pushing an escape button. In short, my mother systematically held on too tight and bent me like a stress toy until I couldn’t feel comfortable with myself in any situation and couldn’t trust her for a second. That is not an exaggeration. If you leave something out for five seconds and walk away, she will home in on it and move it because you left it where it does not belong. That is how mad and eerily aware at the wrong times she can be. And, any nice things she could say are washed out by all of the harsh, ignorant and self-serving crap she pumps out in her own sort of internal distress, every day. She has been given a soapbox (to preach from), and she’s not leaving it.

My siblings, particularly my sisters, have no problem being thoughtful and creative on Mothers Day because they “left home at a normal age.” There’s a whole other ball of wax to this case that involves the proper age and conditions for doing “normal” adult things. It remains a painful divide that cannot seem to be resolved, causing my siblings to divide. I hate having to clash with my sisters who seem to always find a way to offer up gifts and other favors to my parents, especially our mother. [That’s easy when you’re mother isn’t harping on you, violating your privacy, speaking highly of the female species and letting you do as you please.] My sisters will admit their mom has plenty of “issues” but continue to appear on special days as if nothing is wrong. They look at me like I am scum when I cannot be as “generous.” And, if I try to reason with them, I might as well be on the road to a jail sentence. I have no lawyer on my side.

My mother should be happy she has caused that much discord. She enjoys drama and tragic stories, even though they get her upset. She can’t get enough of them and rarely enjoys comedy.

So, if Mothers Day is a pain, my mother’s birthday must really be difficult. Yep…

Now, my father isn’t much better. But, he gets plenty of sympathy for being as romantic and creative as he can be to counter my mom’s…ugliness. He tries so hard sometimes. But, when you hear my mother complain, you begin to wonder if Dad isn’t just trying to make up for some wrong he did…long ago…when they were a young couple and us kids were not around. You begin to wonder why you were born, at all, because, clearly, they are not happy with the kids or anything they’ve had since they met.

Even if I could offer my dad compassion for putting up with my mom and trying to be thoughtful, he has spent almost as much time being my mother’s tool. And, his vanity knows no end…yet he can be such a sickening slob! He will pick at your appearance until you bleed from your eyes…but he, himself, can let himself be in such a horrid state that you wonder if he’s even aware of himself, at all. He had some “military time” which I think affected his mentality about everything. There’s a proper way to doing everything, but I’m not sure even he knows what that is…like how to properly raise a child into a man. It’s hard to teach a son to be a man when he, himself, cannot be a respected man in his partner’s company.

[All of my “judgy” speech seems to come from him. But, both parents are too often rude and/or vile…so they should get equal blame. And, I should just jump off a cliff before I upset anyone else I’d like to be a friend.]

He has done her bidding and even picked up some of her weird, invasive habits. It’s sickening. It’s so vile that it upsets my stomach just to write about it. He is in no way a male role model for his sons. He has no backbone except when it gets him into conflict with my mom, his partner. It’s only when he listens to others who are having a good time that he crosses a line with her and lands in the “doghouse.” Dad likes to socialize and have a good time with others.

[Mom can’t seem to decide if she wants company or would rather curl up in a bitter ball in some corner. She likes to talk…oy, does she like to talk…but she struggles with listening and fair play. She will absorb your life story like a sponge and relay it to us, her kids. Mom seems okay when you decide for her and can force her into some nice clothes…almost like a child being prodded by her parents to dress up for a special day…hmm. But, she’s not the best “crowd person,” even if that crowd is just one other person. I don’t think she ever “grew up” before being expected to be an adult and parent.]

[I grew up to become such a self-conscious and anxiety-flooded freak because my parents, especially my father, couldn’t stop finding fault with me, their precious boy. One minute, they tell you that you’re valuable…the next they tear you down by telling you why you’re wrong.]

Mom moans about being lonely and can socialize just fine when put in certain public spaces…but she refuses to adapt and pushes, drives people and opportunities away. She once has neighbors as friends; I don’t think she did anything to get them as friends or keep them as friends other than putting up with surprise visits. If people didn’t knock down her door, she’d be alone and bitter. Yet, it’s the knocking down of her door that has also rattled her so often; she constantly complains how surprise visits deny her from getting household needs resolved.

Just as a vague example…

Mom goes to a store, usually some discount/resale shop, because my parents refuse to look at anything “new.” She runs into some stranger who strikes up a conversation because my parents can make themselves look so…attractive. They will talk for an hour or more. If you hear them, you’ll think this is the beginning of a nice friendship. But, while Dad might like to exchange phone numbers and see this person, again, Mom will silently turn away and go home alone to complain. It makes no sense. And, it hurts, from all sides. If you confront my mother and argue how she could have exchanged information and resumed contact with the person another day, she will give you a list of nonsensical reasons why that wouldn’t work. It’s futile to try.

So, it’s not like my mother couldn’t have friends…she just refuses to let anyone into her heart and space. I’d go so far as saying some past friends burned her so badly that she cannot recover. She was a young fool, once, and she won’t change after being “played.”

And, if my sisters think their mother has anything worth emulating, they are in trouble…as are their husbands and children…and any friends they may think they still have. If my sisters are in any way doomed to act like their mother, the rest of the world should pray for mercy. It may sound cruel, but we don’t need more people like my mother…not her dark sides, anyway.

If I try hard enough, I can remember a glimmer of a happier time when I used to think of my mother in a supernatural way. I used to compare her to Linda Carter’s Wonder Woman and may have even had an Oedipus complex. But, boy, did she tear that apart over the years! It is GONE! You can only pick on your precious son’s face, call him a liar and tear up his trust and security so often before he can no longer give you a greeting card (which she claims to want so badly), among other favors.

[The other strange thing…just one of many…is that no matter what my mother will say she wants, if you try to get it for her, she will find reason to complain. There are epic tales about women who act this way. As all of us men in the family say, there is no pleasing her. And, it’s a very sexist response. If you even mention men versus women, she will ignite and cast out all men. But, don’t think you’re safe being a woman…because, even though you won’t get her hatred, you’ll get plenty of unwanted advice about how staying home to be a mother, while your man supplies you with all the money you could want, is the best way to live. I don’t think that’s sound thinking. But, I’m sure some women will get stars in their eyes. And, that worries me.]

As for their birthdays, it should be rather obvious how they are no better than Mothers and Fathers Days. I mean, I’m at the point when and where I am questioning my own birth, my existence. What good can come from celebrating your parents when you can’t even feel great on your own birthday?…particularly when your parents appear on your birthday and no longer are those people you role your eyes at and smile, anyway, as they provide a lit cake and, maybe, a few presents.

My parents have a fun way of decimating the joy of any special day by quickly turning conversation to what isn’t being done “right” in life. As soon as you open your surprise, life gets back to “serious business,” and you might as well get used to that. New Year’s Day is probably the worst. It’s like Mothers Day but delivers the pain more quickly. There is no joyous ringing in of the new year in my family. It’s just a quick clinking of glasses and a few snacks during the ball drop before talk begins rising about tax season and all the things we should be doing to improve ourselves. It’s sort of like crafting resolutions…but with a lot of pointing fingers and blaming each other. ‘Not exactly healthy. ‘Definitely not warm, friendly family time. [And, if you see my mother leaving the area, she’s just going off on her own to think about taxes for the next few months, which she is sure to bring up in daily conversation until the due date. Isn’t she fun?]

It’s sort of like getting a gift at work. You have your cake with coworkers, if you’re so lucky, and then it’s back to work…if you can manage to pivot like that. How many of us can really enjoy cake and festivities and then get right back to work? If you say you can, you’re one very special nutcase.

I don’t even want to get upset about what I felt my life has lacked on those special days. But, just about any holiday gets sullied and ruined by my family. And, it only gets more painful when you have to focus on the roots of this family, my parents. It started with them. We started with them.

Now, I will take a deep breath and leave this where it sits. I think I’ve said…everything. I wrote this to “breathe” before facing my parents on one more of their uncomfortable special days. I needed this. And, if I’m lucky, I won’t have to explain my time away from the family to anyone. [I’m just…glad?…I had the space, time and ability to write this.]

But, if you can understand what I am saying, can you grasp what a painful life I live, if just about every holiday comes with a measure of discomfort if not pain? My own life is riddled with discomforts because of this. But, it’s even more upsetting when my discomfort pours out onto others who then turn away from me because I, in whatever way, cannot help reflecting the misery caused by my parents (and other family members). In short, anyone else who dares to walk a mile in my shoes would probably do something very unpleasant to themselves. I do not doubt that for a second. I like to take a small bit of pride for myself in being as…tolerant as I’ve been. I hope it’s all worth it, someday. If not, I’m just a fool.

I wish I could be the sort of “normal guy” who can get drunk at every special day and forget what bothers him. I wish I could go without discomfort at and after every family gathering. I wish I could be more comfortable in a group and not get mental impressions from those around me like a sensitive psychic. I wish I didn’t feel withdrawal after every happy moment with another person. Yet, wishing for that would take away what makes me special and able to be uniquely kind to people who touch my heart. So, while I may not be the best party guy, right now…I am what I am. Deal with it…please. Don’t let this spark of life and creativity die miserable and alone.

17
Jan
23

Response to She’s Cut Off From Grandkids, Too… (Ask Carolyn)

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Ask Carolyn (Hax) column originally titled “She’s cut off from grandkids, too, not just ‘angry’ grandpa.”

This letter/case addresses an aging mother/grandmother who is being denied time with her son’s children because the son refuses to visit and even speak with her. But, the enclosed blame for the lack of communication is placed upon the son’s father who is described as being a toxic, angry parent. The mother/grandmother feels she has been only kind, caring and supportive and thus has no reason to be denied time with the grandkids; she believes her relationship with the son was a good one…until he stopped communicating with her (and his father). The mother/grandmother tries to bridge the gap by sending gifts to the grandkids…and there is no mention of how those gifts are used/received.

Carolyn (Hax) does a decent job of bringing my attention to one possibility I did not consider, while reading the letter…and also possibly making the mother/grandmother feel exceedingly guilty/self-conscious in an already tender, tragic situation. The psychology here may be more fragile than it appears in text. And, I wouldn’t want the already troubled mother/grandmother to do anything further to ruin her health or end her life as a result of “tough love” from a columnist. But, as Carolyn seems to suggest or hint at, the psychology might also be something in the head of the mother/grandmother who is in denial of her part in the parenting mishap. [I could say the same of my parents. One (if not both) is definitely living in denial.]

—————-

Very Sad Grandma, I hope you are NOT my mother and thus someone who refuses to take any blame for how she performed (and continues to perform) as a parent…even though she might be right when she says she did the best she could…even if that means she just wasn’t ready/fit to parent. I hope you are just as much aware of your own potential missteps as you are able to point fingers at your son’s father, the other half of the parent equation. I hate to admit I am skeptical…because you did not make any mention of what even MIGHT be your fault…because you claim your relationship with this son was good. Either way, we, the readers, have little to no evidence, just your word.

[Acknowledge that it takes two to have a child and be parents (plural); admit that much. I am not saying single parents cannot adequately parent, in some (not all) cases. But, certainly, two happy, healthy mentors can do better than one struggling to make ends meet, so to speak (just like two kidneys over depending upon one).]

But, I also hope you are not the self-sacrificing, martyr type who will blame herself for more than she is guilty just to open a closed door and then repeat the problem that closed it. And, I hope you are not the sort who perpetually blames herself until she is a mindless corpse (because no amount of confessing seems enough to improve the situation). I hope you are not a “doormat.”

I will acknowledge, as any of these advice columnists must feel like saying though it is rarely if ever addressed, sorting out such a touchy subject outside of a therapy setting, where you can hear from all sides, provided all sides are present and permitted to speak freely in an orderly fashion…if that ever happens in our modern world, anymore…sorting out your big crisis through a newspaper column doesn’t seem very effective, productive and/or sensible. You write out your thoughts as they come to you, emotionally, in the moment. If you’re lucky, you review what you wrote before turning it in to the columnist. The columnist reads what you wrote and has to wrap their assessment into a set space.

…The whole thing just feels like a futile and tensely packed situation with no clear resolution.

[I would also like to address how writing an emotional plea to anyone, for advice or just to be heard, is a confusing effort when you include more than one person of a particular gender in a single sentence. This letter becomes a bit confusing at points, mixing the father of the son with the father of kids of his own. See what I mean? We need to break these sentences down to be extra clear; discuss one person at a time and watch those gender-specific words.]

Regardless, I have a few thoughts/ideas of my own I’d like to offer, if you are receptive.

There is one path Carolyn does not even bother to consider…because she is focused on the possibility that your relationship with the son’s father might be…er, dead. You might be divorced. You might be separated. You might no longer get along with the son’s father and feel you have separate rights to be with your kids and their kids. The path I am referring to involves you setting a “date” with your son to meet and be with the grandkids AWAY FROM THE FATHER.

Is that not possible? Couldn’t you contact the son and suggest a time and place you could meet which would not include “angry dad” and thus spare the son the agitation of being around the worst parent one more minute?

If the answer is no, if the son gives absolutely no response to any communication you send…how do you know your “gifts” are even received and/or put to good use? How do you know they are not tossed in the trash?

If you cannot make ANY contact with your troubled son, in which he responds with some form of opinion/thought, you really don’t have much you can do except go on with your life…YOUR life. [And, that doesn’t have to include your “angry” partner…at least, not all of the time.]

Yes, it would be lovely if every branch of every family could cohabitate and share life’s joys….but that seems like a hoop dream, lately. It’s romantic TV fantasy; it’s a family show from the 1950s, promoting good values where there are none. It’s propaganda to sell you dish soap and cigarettes for when the kids are asleep. Maybe real family life isn’t so rosy. Ya know?

But, if you can, try the secluded meeting option. Try setting up a meeting with your son and the grandkids in which “angry dad” does not attend. Then and only then might you be able to resolve what is surely keeping you distressed day-to-day (because you cannot let this go).

IF you can make contact with your agitated son…and IF he (still) refuses to meet with you apart from the father he (supposedly) detests, you’ll have your answer, as tragic as it may be. You are partially to blame for the son’s anger. Either you report back to his father in a way that makes you an associate to the problem, a subordinate contributor…or you are equally “bad” and just don’t see/admit it. Either way, you’ll know. Then it’s up to you, sigh, to accept the fallout and move on with YOUR life.

[On a recovery-from-fallout-with-my-son note, consider giving your motherly time and attention to kids who are not your own…not collecting lifeless dolls the way my mother’s family seems to do, voiceless, infantile representations of what they initially desired and not at all what happens when those cute little dolls mature. Consider being a mentor and, potentially, a gift giver to kids who lack guidance and emotional support. You won’t be able to take them into your own home (unless you legally adopt). You cannot call them your own, say or do anything that might violate some legal/family boundaries. But, you’ll be able to put that energy you currently cannot give out to good use, I’d hope.]

Carolyn isn’t wrong in suggesting sending a “genuine apology” *without any mention of you wanting time with the kids.* That IS the key/trigger, here. You cannot confess feelings of any kid to the son AND say you want to see the kids. That’s like attaching TNT to a care package…or giving a present with a tag that says “NOW, WHERE’S MY PRESENT?” You don’t want to harm your son, but you might be by mixing your wants for one thing with another…and by ignoring the bomb wires attached to your own hand in the parent trap. Cut the wrong wire, and you blow up your contact opportunity. It’s not pleasant to hear…but may be the truth.

So, to mend fences, or, at least, re-establish communication (if, currently, there is none) yes, try to apologize without a “gimme” clause. But, if you genuinely believe you are not to blame, at all, I don’t think an apology makes any sense. If you are guilty of something and take no blame upon yourself, you’re lying through your smile. If you blame yourself for something you didn’t do, putting yourself on the sacrificial table like a martyr, you’re adding unncessary emotion to the situation and could arrive at the same conclusion, a son who thinks his mother doesn’t know what she is saying and thus isn’t understanding the situation.

But, at the very least, if you cannot hear back from that son yet CAN admit some responsibility, yes, send a letter of apology…and then…pardon my language…SHUT UP. Stop beating on the door that won’t open (and let that door open, again, when/if it chooses to do so). Let that son reach out to you, if he still can. Communication is a two-way street. And, no one person, not even a guilt-free parent, can pave a smooth street, alone. All of your “force” isn’t repairing this road. So, accept what you did, try all that you can and then let the matter go…or sink with the ship.

[And, pardon me for mixing road metaphors with aquatic ones.]

Understand…this may be a wound that needs more time to mend before that part of the social body that is your family can continue to function. Like a gash on one of your limbs or a broken bone, we cannot rush recovery time, even if your insurance won’t cover more rehab. The body heals as it can, as it will. So do relationships, sometimes. Sometimes, effort is needed to accelerate and make productive change/improvement. Sometimes, nature just needs to take its course at its own pace. This may be an instance of the latter. Picking at the “scab” could just make matters worse.

[Don’t be the kid who won’t shut up in the backseat of the car, repeatedly asking, “Are we there, yet? Are we there, yet?” Kapeesh?]

04
Apr
22

Response to Must Dad call new wife ‘the love of his life’…; from Ask Carolyn (Hax)

***

Ask Carolyn (Hax) column originally titled “Must dad call new wife ‘the love of his life’ around his kids?”

There are two letters to this particular column. The second ends with a line that triggers my pet peeve with this advice columnist.

Resentful is the non-gender-specific offspring of a deceased mother and a father who, after four years of solitude, has paired up with another woman, a woman he chooses to regularly call “the love of my life.” Resentful, upon hearing those words, including in the presence of children (possibly their own, possibly nieces/nephews, possibly both), becomes angry and hurt because those words were once the rightful description of their birth mother (and the grandmother of the children present). Resentful seeks a way to convey the anger to their father who persists in questioning why Resentful has reduced time spent with him. In other words, it’s a tense situation that won’t improve without some form of peaceful negotiation.

Carolyn essentially advises Resentful to speak up rather than silently withdraw, bottle the anger and leave Dad wondering until his heart permanently breaks from the disconnect. Carolyn also states that feelings from both sides may not be entirely as they appear in the column/letter. The father might still value Resentful’s birth mother but politely use the phrase to honor his new flame as the next phase in his on-going life. And, Resentful is choosing, in a way, to let the circumstances upset him/her, rather than simply accepting the choice made by their father.

Raising a Teen is a frustrated single? mother who has a tense relationship with her 17-year-old son and a number of fellow-parent “friends” who politely try to sympathize though their own kids are younger. Raising, somewhat like a teenager, feels the other parents (friends) just cannot understand all that goes through her head upon dealing with her own near-adult son. Memories of her ex, the boy’s father, who retains a bitter relationship with his own mother, trouble her. She wants to scream.

Carolyn somewhat subtly tells Raising to curb her anger and reconsider the advice and/or support of those other parents, even if they don’t have the exact same circumstances. And, if that’s not sufficient, if Raising still cannot calm down (possibly because some emotional responses are just too much for some people, possibly including Raising’s “friends”), she should seek professional help (therapy, I am guessing). [Can I scream, now?]

——————–

Resentful,

What Carolyn (and I just) said. The quick and easy answer is to bite the bullet and put your feelings on the table, ideally getting an honest confession from your father (not pressuring him to change his choice of words just to please you).

Right now, your anger/resentment is so vivid and fierce, like a raging fire; you cannot handle peaceful negotiation. So, I’d suggest taking some kind of trip/vacation on which you can process your feelings and digest our words/advice. It doesn’t have to be a long trip; just a day or two…probably two.

You need to calmly speak with your father to clarify his truest feelings. This could be challenging, considering he may be reluctant to say his feelings for your deceased mother are as strong as those he has for the new woman, for fear of upsetting that new woman…which is fair to say. And, if you cannot control your own fiery feelings, you might spoil the opportunity to assess the situation (which is why, I suppose, you reached out for advice).

How can someone new ever be a fully honored and accepted part of his life if he must constantly replay/relive emotional matters of his past? Would you expect him to say he loves two women, one deceased and one living, equally at every family gathering? Would you expect him to set a place at the dining table for the deceased and his new love interest?

I’d be a bit of a hypocrite if I didn’t see things from your side, as well. I have similar resentment for things my family chooses to do which trigger some unpleasant historical thoughts/feelings. Imagine being a rape victim and having your family party with evidence from that painful experience at the scene of the crime while they talk casually about the culprit. [No, I have not been raped…at least, not in the dictionary-definition sense. I’d say I’ve been sort of spiritually and mentally raped (or deeply offended and rattled by people I was told to trust). I just use that as a sort of metaphor/example of what’s still troubling me.]

You don’t like what your father is doing/saying. You don’t want to hear it. The healthier response would be to take the previous advice and defuse the bomb in your chest; if your father can convince you he still values your mother, even if he uses those particular words to address/introduce the new phase of his remaining lifetime, you have nothing to resent. This situation isn’t exactly a drug-abuse intervention, so you cannot pressure him to quit for his own health. Yet, the second-hand smoke–so to speak–is upsetting yours (your mental/emotional health). If he cannot see how the words upset you, that’s just as unkind of him if he doesn’t step forward to address the situation. “Honey/Son? Is what I am saying bothering you? Why? Let’s talk about it.”

Your choice to withdraw and spend less time with your dad isn’t too unreasonable. It gives you some control over the situation, unlike being the child who gets imprisoned if he/she turns against his/her parent(s) in some emotional conflict. You are not required to go along for the ride you have no interest in taking. You can step away/stay at your own home.

But, not resolving this matter only causes the resentment to fester in the wound. Your relationship with Dad won’t improve by biting your angry tongue and avoiding him. Once or twice, it might feel good to have that control. But, year after year, it’s sure to eat you alive…until he dies. And then, what will you do/feel? Will you let him go to his grave without a kind word…because he lived the (second) portion of his committed love life in a way that upset you? [I’m asking myself similar questions as I sort out what I will need to do when my (disappointing, to say the least) parents pass away.]

Carolyn commonly advises people to seek professional therapy. But, she did not in this case. Strangely enough, I am wondering if something similar wouldn’t benefit your situation. If you could arrange a talk with your father and some sort of mediator with no emotional ties to the situation, someone who you’d trust to serve as judge/counselor, you might stand a better chance at sorting out the details and putting your anger to rest.

——————–

Raising a Teen,

In your current state of mind, I doubt me saying “I feel your pain” would suffice, considering I am not a parent of a 17-year-old boy or any children, for that matter. But, I know that desire to scream when those we seek for sympathy and advice (though we are slow/reluctant to accept and/or follow it) don’t satisfy our desires for one reason and/or another. You are the sort who starts sentences with “Until you have…” and clenches her fists (and teeth) when someone who isn’t your twin says anything that doesn’t agree with your comfort zone. Differences in circumstances, for you (and, often enough, myself), are like pollen and dust to someone (like me) with seasonal allergies. And, I might be just a tad like your ex, considering the tense relationship I have with my own parents, both of them.

I’ve consulted people I’d like to call friends for advice and sympathy in matters troubling me; and, often enough, their responses lack something to satisfy my desires. This tends to anger me. And, when I contact these “friends,” they often claim I sound angry. I get worked up about certain matters…about a lot of things…more than the people I contact, it seems, ever do. They don’t seem as 3-D as I feel; they are more like cartoon/movie characters written to respond a certain way than people who can adequately relate to and help with my situation. In short, I’m “too much” for most people. And, once this is conveyed by the person I contact, contact is abruptly ended…not usually by my choice but by the other person. And, that only makes me want to cry and scream even more. What does one who is “too much” for so many do with that volcano of feelings?

The easy answer for many is to say, “You need to seek professional help.” And, to that, I respond GET LOST! Tell me how many people have come to you for sympathy/support or just someone to keep them company. And, how often did you tell them their problems/requests are too much for you? Did you tell them to get professional help for reasons other than resolving a mechanical problem (like fixing a leaky pipe or replacing a faulty appliance/computer)?

Gosh. “Professional help” must certainly be rich with all that business being thrown their way. It makes me wonder why there aren’t as many commercials for crisis assistance services and psychiatrists as there are for lawyers just waiting for someone to have a terrible vehicular accident or intake a hazardous drug/chemical; I suppose it’s because few if any are being told to go have a near-fatal vehicular accident or ingest a hazardous substance.

Tell me why a professional stranger, who has no prior experience with you upon which to base their assessments, who requires payment for every minute of their time (which sounds a bit like prostitution), is better than someone you sort of or sufficiently know taking the time to help you through your difficult time/situation. Isn’t the latter the definition of a good friend? Instead, you are supposed to lay out every important detail about what has been going on in your life (and omit what isn’t important, while swamped in emotional baggage), tell it all to someone new who can only give you an hour of their time maybe once a week if not once every other week, and expect them to have more sympathy than the people you call friends. That sounds…insane.

I cannot even discuss my health concerns and prior experiences, at full length, with my “primary care provider” before my “session” has expired. At best, I imagine a professional could steer you toward some other form of assistance, like a family/group therapy program or recreational activity you might (enjoy) with your son, provided he would participate with you in that activity. And, I suppose, that’s slightly better than telling you to get help elsewhere.

Wait; did I just give professional advice without a license? Hmm.

But, a therapist cannot remain professional and still be a good friend (as previously defined)…can they? They only have so much time and many others who need their help…because so many, who cannot handle helping other people, are providing these therapists with an ample supply of clients. A professional cannot be that person you call in the middle of the night when something’s bothering you (or even at a more reasonable hour, if you could be that respectful). I really wish I had such a friend, right now. But, I don’t. And, I’m guessing, you don’t have one, either.

I may have a difficult time processing some emotionally/mentally “heavy” situations. I may also not be the best source of advice/counsel, considering I can be harshly honest (or blunt) without intent to upset/hurt anyone. I don’t take pleasure in upsetting people, but it happens…often. If I don’t say something miraculously inspirational, usually making good use of a metaphor, I say something that disturbs the other person(s). I don’t smile in response, like some wicked people I’ve known do. I’m…sorry I upset someone. Yet, saying I am sorry won’t resolve the situation I just caused.

I like to think I take on more emotional conflicts than most people would; I like to think I am a decent counselor/therapist. I like helping people when and where I can, even going above and beyond what comes easy to most. But, considering I am dealing with a ton of my own mental/emotional baggage on a fairly regular basis, it’s not as if I can address the problems of another person with a clear slate/state of mind. A professional tends to limit their time to an hour with each client. I’m inclined to spend more than that with each person (being someone who is not a man of few words); which is one reason I would not be the most/best professional helper.

Now that I’ve sufficiently gone off-track with self-therapy, let’s get back to your situation. Hopefully, what I’ve just said will ease the tension in your shoulders a bit and you will agree we have similar feelings/experiences.

You and your son currently do not get along (well). You neglect to give any specific reasons/examples of those conflicts. And, your ex’s relationship with his mother troubles you.

Is that because you fear the son will take after his father? Is it possible your troubling son has already said something about his father to fuel his clashes with you? Is that so unreasonable?…for a son of divided parents to sort of side with the one he favors? Is that so abnormal that others–even those who don’t have the exact same circumstances–cannot relate/sympathize in some way? Divorce isn’t new or taboo. Separated parents are not new, either.

Considering you call the other parents (you mentioned) friends, I have to question/wonder how they earned that title. They don’t satisfy your needs. And, I’m betting you don’t do enough to please them, even if you feel you do plenty. It’s possible they don’t adequately appreciate and respect your output. You clearly don’t appreciate their output. So…how are they friends?

I’m inclined to think too many call undeserving people “friends” just to feel as if they are not entirely isolated in this world. I know I’d feel like a basket case if I couldn’t say I considered at least one person a friend…of some sort. I will come right out, right now, and admit I do not currently have a single close friend. There is no one I can trust with the depths of my soul, and that is quite discouraging. But, I do have what I’d consider very shallow, somewhat superficial, flimsy, fair-weather contacts, people I can reach by phone and/or email. And, yes, some of those contacts make me want to scream, now and then…especially if anyone stops “trying,” says I’m “too much” and/or tells me to get professional help.

If your “friends” are cardboard cutouts merely filling the places of people you’d prefer to have in your life, the desire to scream certainly makes sense. Imagine waking up to a world inhabited by only cardboard people (and yourself). That sounds awful.

I have no advice for how to improve your friendships other than to look elsewhere (for better friends). I’d take the advice I’ve been given about joining a club or exercise class at which you might meet people with similar interests and–ideally–outlooks. But, I have yet to follow that, myself, for whatever reason I am reluctant to confront.

You could listen to Carolyn–if I correctly understood her words–and take what you get from your “friends” without throwing it back in their faces. Accept the fact they don’t have the exact same situation yet offer what they can/will in response; and, if that’t not good enough, consult someone else…which you did by reaching out to an advice columnist. And, like those professionals we’re being told to find, she only has so much time and space to satisfy your needs…not enough to fill an hour of your day.

Similarly, you could alter your way of thinking about the problem by avoiding and/or derailing thoughts about the ex who doesn’t get along with his mother. Do all that you can to silence those voices in your head that say, “Like father, like son.” Avoid any movies and/or TV shows that use those words and tell stories of sons acting out the way their fathers once did. Your son is an individual, even if he is part you and part ex. He can be his own special person, if you treat him that way. But, if you feed him the same fertilizer and water you gave your ex, he will probably resemble that ex.

Is there any reason your son SHOULD feel/act the way your ex does/has? Are you, in any way, responsible for your son’s behavior? Can you admit that much? [And, if you can, that would have been helpful information to include in your letter…as well as the first step to resolving the conflict.] Taking responsibility for one’s part in a conflict is far better than accepting zero blame and simply expecting your son to change. Expressing awareness of how you may have upset the relationship (even if you cannot find any intent on your part) you have with your son could compel him to express similar feelings and bridge the gap.

What more can I/we say? Plenty, I suppose, if we spared the time and effort. But, I don’t have a concise, concrete, fool-proof solution. Who does? I don’t know.

14
Jun
18

Happy Fathers Day, June 17th

*****

‘Not sure why, but when I saw this picture in a recent viewing, Fathers Day came to mind.  It’s the new father receiving shocking word of his partner’s pregnancy.

FathersDay2018_ataru-lum-shockingletter-UY-ep-73_ap-1040840-1

On another personal note, I cannot say I will ever have the chance to be the father on such a day.  There will be no grills or cars with bows on them waiting for me.  No cookouts in my honor, most likely.  Nor do I take much pleasure in doing anything special on this holiday.  I feel more sorry for my father than I care to celebrate him.

And, what he wants from me this weekend is outside my comfort zone.  As much as I want to be the good son and do as he wishes, I feel a little selfish yet deserving of being that way after my experiences, not feeling like going out of my way this year to make him happy.  But, I won’t be disrespectful or start any fights, either.  Call it a peaceful distance if need be.  Peace is better than conflict or tension.

 




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