Letters to the Editor
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Success doesn't equal happiness
I've been married for 35 years to a man who could be the letter writer. He worked hard through high school, graduated first in his class of 5,000 in college, married his high school sweetheart (me), works hard at his job, attended every PTA meeting, helped our kids with their homework and helped the boys reach Eagle Scout--he knows for sure how life is supposed to work, made every perfect choice, is judgmental of everyone else's choices, and his own harshest critic.
Is he happy? Not a bit. Our daughter graduated summa cum laude from an excellent college, which we paid almost nothing for because she had won so many scholarships. So what? She still wasted too much time drinking and goofing off with friends. The summer she took a 2500 mile bike trip through the country from top to bottom? A waste of time when she should have been focused on getting into medical school. She's wildly happy right now, engaged in a band, doing fun projects, enjoying friends, and spent the last year on a research project (earning more money than I did) which she found fascinating--it was her way of testing whether or not she wanted to have a career in research, and deciding nope. In her dad's mind, that year was a waste of time--she should have gone straight to medical or graduate school. She veered from the path, and he wakes up in the middle of the night worried about her and angry at her for not following his always absolutely correct advice.
I feel sorry for the letter writer's unhappiness--because it is unhappiness that leads people to write to Cary, and she is unhappy that no one seems to want to follow her path in life. Why would my children want to follow their dad's path when he's so clearly not happy--just worried and angry all the time because everyone falls so short of his expectations and makes choices he doesn't approve of? Perfectionists may go to heaven at last, but they spend most of their lives here in hell. And sometimes they make life hell for the rest of us.
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Ever heard of Job, lady?
Ever hear of Job in the Book of Job, LW?
Pricks like you make me want to kill myself. People like you have sat in judgement of me my entire life and treated me like pond scum because of the family I was born in, physical problems I've had/still have, lots of other life circumstances which of course were I as blessed and charmed as you I would not have found myself in. So I've just gone my own way and stopped socializing with others unless necessary. You remind worthless losers like me that I'm wasted space and fundamentally unlovable and worthless.
Have a nice life.
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One other little point
I just posted about having been married for 35 years to my perfectionist high school sweetheart, who knows how to negotiate life perfectly. I love him even when he drives me nuts. But I wonder if he realizes that his "perfect marriage" is perfect only because I'm the person I have evolved into, not the 16-year-old girl he "selected" (he honest-to-goodness once told me that he picked me after making a list of the good and bad points of all the girls he knew), and that there have been several times when I was pretty darned close to just walking out. Many times the "correct path" through life depends on someone else holding that path in place for you, even if you never ever realize it.
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perhaps living life on the straight and narrow is the biggest mistake
and that's why you're so emotional about other people's lives.
There's that 'what if' element that makes it easier for you to judge them than look at what you might have missed out on had you let your hair down a bit more and been a little bit less self righteous all that time.
And you might resent the irresponsibility that people can get away with, 'cuz look, you're doing it right, but all these other irresponsible people seem to be getting by anyhow... it's not fair is it?
And, perhaps, you attract the irresponsible people to you by your ability to function well... irresponsible people love someone who can help 'em out all the time.
I know of which I speak... I struggle with this myself. But I think I was cured by marrying the most irresponsible man alive. I'm divorcing him and enjoying letting myself screw up more often.
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My successful friends, Alice's neighbors, my credit card debt.
Dear LW,
You have shown introspection . Wonderful. Had I not had a wierd life journey as I did, I might be you writing your letter.
My title might appear to have no linkage. It does. Allow me to briefly share why I have credit card debt
I start in the middle about Alice's illness and death in July 2007 in the Caribbean, how her neighbors, a married couple, took care of her and took the precept, "LOVE THY NEIGHBOR AS THYSELF" to new levels.
Alice, 64, was an only child. Her parents had died. She'd never married. She had no one, no assets. She fell ill. The neighbors took care of Alice, situated her in the hospital. She was hospitalized for 8 weeks. The neighbors assumed responsibility for Alice, including a huge medical bill. Alice died.
The neighbors arranged the cremation.
The Persian word for neighbor is 'HAMSAYEH" ...pronounced "ham saw yeh" - and it means , "sharing each other's shadow" .
In 1999 when I escaped from dual persecution of my mother and ex-husband, moving from Miami to Seattle, I thought that if only I could get to Seattle my friends in the NW would look after me.
To my surprise no one expressed outrage verbally to me at what had happened. They may have felt it inside, but they never spoke it out loud. I was dying for a word of validation, but they remained silent for years.
No one expressed outrage that my ex-H had a child during our marriage and then after our marriage, a child with the housekeeper's daughter, and had brainwashed our children and that my daughter was working for her father - and I was alone in Seattle without family, community or profession.
One of my successful friends did cry upon receiving my letter containing my news - this letter was written about 18 months after we had both resetttled in the NW. She asked , "What should I do?" Not, "How come you are only now telling me of this! This is outrageous!"
If she did not know instinctively what to do, I was not going to tell her. If she did not react with outrage, it told me that her heart was not there for me. My house was on fire, figuratively speaking, and she was asking me, "What should I do?"
Due to my friends' unintentional ignorance and indifference , I therefore experienced further cruelty and isolation. I longed for someone to call my children (whom my friend knew ) and tell them what happened was outrageous. No one did.
In 2004 I took a course and bought it on credit card.
This course, I felt, would allow me to present myself in a socially respectable light and allow me an income. Actually, I was too depressed to follow up after several months. Thus I have not earned back the initial investment.
In the summer of 2007 I visited my son and daughter. I intended to sell my assets in a family business started by my deceased mother. This sale would more than cover my credit card debt and it was my nest egg to bridge into a new life of real estate investment.
Since no one had taken the time to tell my severely brainwashed son and daughter, 34 and 33, that I had suffered persecution (I had hidden it from them ) my son accused me of caring only about money. He wished he could buy my shares from me, but could not afford to, and now the chance of owning part of a business started by my dysfunctional deceased mother was slipping away from him.
I ended up telling him, "OK, if you think I only care about money, I will gift you my shares. By the way I only have $2000 in my bank account." My children were shocked.
I have never sought out public assistance or used public funds to help me recover. I have used all my own funds found from God knows where.
After the family visit, I returned home 4000 miles away . I have a new level of communication with my son. He is very appreciative of my gift.
I started a night job as a department store stocking person at $10 an hour. I want to use day time hours to straighen out my paperwork and eventually learn my intended business of real estate investment.
I resisted the attentions of a married man 2004-2006.
I will be 60 this year.
I hope to become skinny and successful.
Would I have incurred that credit card debt if my friends had demonstrated caring for me? No. Unfortunately, my friends do not understand the severe sabotage of non-physical domestic violence. They returned to their 401K reports and stock portfolios and travel plans.
I was reminded of the words from THE ALBATROSS by Samual Taylor Coleridge, "Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink."
People, people everywhere, and not a soul to help me.
Just a few days ago, that friend called to ask me how my children had fared with Hurricane Dean. We talked a bit.
From her safe, comfortable, secure life she listened to parts of mine about my recent visit to my children and about how I had gifted my assets to my son.
Would I have incurred that credit card debt if my friends had demonstrated a capacity for caring for me when I was emotionally desperate? NO.
Would my children have understood my position better if my friends had spoken up for me ? YES.
Would I have had to gift my shares to my son to prove I was not about the money? NO.
Would I have been able to pay off my credit card debt? YES.
Were my friends like Alice's neighbors? NO.
My friends would never allow a dog to be physically abused, but a friend who is dying for a WORD , or a WORD to my children, is ignored - the invisible complexity of emotional domestic violence.
LW - perhaps this story illustrates how good people can have credit card debt.