Letters to the Editor
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McJudgerson
Your excessive need to be perfect and to exercise control -- researching the sky diving trip for example, judging others, and imagining that you have lived life perfectly, is actually indicative of encroaching mental illness originating in the adolescent traumas you mention.
Your reactions are common defensive, self-protective gestures and actually indicate that you likely suffer from an anxiety disorder and probably depression. This will increase as you age, continue to evaluate others harshly, and wonder at that deep-down persistent voice that pronounces your fundamental insecurities.
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Compassion
I agree with those who feel the LW is expressing some unhappiness of her own, which is presently still somewhat hidden from her. The life well lived usually is full of pain and mistakes, as well as joys and triumphs, and as others have said, there's simply no way to guard against misfortune. Sometimes, it just happens. People who lack compassion for others usually do so out of fear--fear that it could happen to them. It MUST be the other person's fault, always, because if it's not, it could happen to anyone.
And of course, the truth is, bad things and mistakes happen all the time to everyone if you live long enough. That's just the way it is.
The real danger here is getting so lost in this fear that you forget to be compassionate to others. Loss of compassion for others, in the end, makes you less of a complete person. It is our ability to share joys and sorrow that make life worth living and other human beings worth knowing. You also become less useful in society because you don't get out there and really connect with others. That's a very bad place to be.
Shel Silverstein wrote this excellent poem about being judgmental:
"Almost perfect... but not quite."
Those were the words of Mary Hume
At her seventh birthday party,
Looking 'round the ribboned room.
"This tablecloth is pink not white--
Almost perfect... but not quite."
"Almost perfect... but not quite."
Those were the words of grown-up Mary
Talking about her handsome beau,
The one she wasn't gonna marry.
"Squeezes me a bit too tight--
Almost perfect... but not quite."
"Almost perfect... but not quite."
Those were the words of ol' Miss Hume
Teaching in the seventh grade,
Grading papers in the gloom
Late at night up in her room.
"They never cross their t's just right--
Almost perfect... but not quite."
Ninety-eight the day she died
Complainin' 'bout the spotless floor.
People shook their heads and sighed,
"Guess that she'll like heaven more."
Up went her soul on feathered wings,
Out the door, up out of sight.
Another voice from heaven came--
"Almost perfect... but not quite."
by Shel Silverstein
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Anonymous 11:03 AM
I truly believe you when you say things have happened to you that you cannot help. Sometimes life can be terribly hard. Afro Goddess means well and does want to help you.
However, I am going to offer you some advice you probably won't take. You need to contact a mental health clinic for advice. You need to take the advice they give you. If they refer to a psychiatrist who suggests medication, you need to take the recommended medication. Consistently.
All the best to you.
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AKA Smith, the world isn't really that controllable
I'm a caregiver for someone with schizophenia. Psychiatric medications don't really cure mental illness. They return a lot of functionality, but they don't give society an automatic loophole from showing compassion for the mentally ill.
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judge not lest you be judged
It's a wonder, anyone has the guts to write a letter to this advice column.
A certain percentage decide that the LW is a whiny loser regardless of the problem or issue.
A certain percentage attempt to withhold judgment and give constructive advice.
THe rest decide or predict that the LW is mentally ill. I am stunned at how many letters I read suggesting that the LW is bipolar, autistic, OCD, ADHD or whatever the most popular diagnosis is right now. If these letters were written twenty years ago, the LW would probably not get diagnosed this way. Why do we feel so comfortable deciding a complete stranger needs therapy and meds? Because we ourselves do? Remember, we're only reading a letter, not sitting down with the LW for an in depth, face-to-face session.
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Dear AKA Smith - from Anonymous 11.03 am
Hi,
Nice of you to read my post with such attention.
You suggested I go to a psychiatrist and take medication.
I assure you, if I showed up at a psychiatrist's office now they would laugh and wonder why I am wasting their time.
Wouldn't it be nice instead if the people in my extended community of friends and family were to wonder if they have any responsibility at all when abuse is committed in their midst? And, if so, what that responsibility would be?
Abuse - in this case, EVIL - is older than dirt and you know something? we do not know how to deal with this matter.
We can land a BOEING jet and there are people doing spacewalks, but this matter of systemic abuse goes on for generations and the effects ripple out.
I have taken responsibility for myself and for the dysfunctional poison of a deceased grandmother whom I did not know was so distorted and who infected my mother with toxcity.
What about other people taking on some responsibility - people who knew my mother's condition (my aunt) - and telling my children the maternal family story. I did not know till age 57 why my grandmother killed herself and that her suicide was at least partly responsible for the subsequent suicides of her son and daughter in law.
Yes, I am at a point where I could tell them now, but 3rd party validation is much more valuable, and from my 91 yr old maternal aunt it would be more meaningful. (This same aunt felt I was in danger from my children when my mother died.)
As a result of my not revealing the poison to my children, my mother died with my son holding her hand. Had my children known of my mother's virulent hatred of me, she would have died forgotten, abandoned and alone.
I did not seek a psychiatrist's help becuase the only one I would have consulted at the time, SCOTT PECK MD, I could not locate. He since died in Sep 2005. My mother died Aug 2005.
My mother's virulent hatred became a living thing on its own.
She became demonically possessed. I respectfully wrote and told her how it could be treated - after seeking the advice (while terrified) of Roman Catholic clergy, Anglican clergy and the presidnet of Self Realiztion Fellowship, my mother's group. None of these avenues produced efficacious advice and they also left me entirely on my own to deal with my terror.
I did not seek a psychiatrist at $125 an hour for I felt a psychiatrist should pay me $125 an hour to listen to my story.
I did not need pills or psychiatrist. I needed LOVE. I needed someone to speak up for me, to simply care. That's all.
So the question is - does anybody else in my picture have any responsibility at all?
When will we understand that 'we', the neighbor, friend, co-worker, family member, are the front line of defense against abuse?
It is well and good to donate to AMNESTY INTERNATIONAL to defend someone's human rights, but consider whether that 'someone' is a person on your doorstep, beside your cubicle, someone you KNOW who is desperate. There is a WAR OF TERROR going in some homes across the country right now.
Thanks for your comments, AKA Smith. You cared enough to write.
Signed: Anonymous 11.03am