Nothing Is Wrong, So Stop Asking Him

It’s as natural as breathing. You look at your man and he seems distant, even aloof. What’s bugging him? Is he mad at you? Why isn’t he talking?

You turn to him and ask, for what feels like the hundredth time, “What’s wrong?”

Assuming he isn’t passive-aggressive or a whiner, chances are the answer is “nothing”. Seriously. I’m not making this up. We were thinking about pizza, or boobs, or nothing at all.

Which brings me to my other favourite question to hate, “What are you thinking about?”

Nothing. I’m just staring. I’m a blank canvas. I’m taking a mental break. I’ve powered down. I’m not thinking about what you just said. I’m not contemplating leaving. I’m not mad. I’m not even thinking about sex. I’m a dude.

Nothing.

This is a "thought bubble". It is an...

Men and women are different. I can literally stare at a wall and think about nothing. I can turn my brain off. Can you? I often bring this up in a group and usually women who are present will look at me in disbelief. My traditional answer to their challenging glare is to turn to a guy in the room, any guy, and ask him if what I have just said is true.

I’m batting 1000.

I have found that when I am repeated asked if something is wrong, the issue really isn’t about how I am feeling. Often it is a passive-aggressive query asked out of insecurity, or even agenda. I have learned to stop answering with one word and make sure to turn the question on its head. When I am “on my game” I like to respond with something like, “I’m good (never ever use the word “fine”), how are you doing?” This is a simple tool that often leads to an intimate and revealing conversation about what the other person is really thinking. Grunting out an answer only tends to confirm in the questioner’s mind that there is, in fact, something wrong.

So do yourself a favour guys (and girls), the next time someone asks you “What’s wrong?” take that as a strong hint that it’s time to talk. You’ll be glad later you did.

But seriously ladies, I was thinking about nothing. And there I go again…

It’s Always Darkest Before The Dawn…

stolen from Ivonne…

Regrets collect like old friends
Here to relive your darkest moments
I can see no way, I can see no way
And all of the ghouls come out to play

And every demon wants his pound of flesh
But I like to keep some things to myself
I like to keep my issues drawn
It’s always darkest before the dawn

And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind
I can never leave the past behind
I can see no way, I can see no way
I’m always dragging that horse around

Our love is questioned, such a mournful sound
Tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground
So I like to keep my issues drawn
But it’s always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

And I am done with my graceless heart
So tonight I’m gonna cut it out and then restart
‘Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
It’s always darkest before the dawn

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
And given half the chance would I take any of it back
It’s a fine romance but it’s left me so undone
It’s always darkest before the dawn

Oh whoa, oh whoa…

And I’m damned if I do and I’m damned if I don’t
So here’s to drinks in the dark at the end of my road
And I’m ready to suffer and I’m ready to hope
It’s a shot in the dark aimed right at my throat
‘Cause looking for heaven, found the devil in me
Looking for heaven, found the devil in me
Well what the hell I’m gonna let it happen to me, yeah

Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
Shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, ooh whoa
And it’s hard to dance with a devil on your back
So shake him off, oh whoa

You Just Got Hit

Bad day“They have a saying in boxing – everyone has a plan till they get hit… well guess what, you just got hit. Whether or not you get up is up to you.”  from The Ghost And The Darkness

I remember, years ago, hearing a minister talking about the worst day he ever had. I won’t go into details but suffice to say, it wasn’t much of a day. No one died, nothing bad happened. He was inconvenienced. I remember hearing him and thinking, “That’s the best you got?”

Some people get through lives relatively unscathed. I don’t know them personally but that’s the rumor. For the rest of us, however, life is a series of adventures and misadventures. I have a theory that almost everyone has experienced some form of trauma by the time they are forty. I can’t prove this but it seems to be true in the world I live. To quote the greatest family movie of all time, The Princess Bride, “Life is pain highness, anyone who says different is selling you something.”

We all get hit, from time to time. The older I get the more I notice how differently my life has turned out than I had anticipated. You can have all the plans in the world but they won’t help you if you get Fibromyalgia, or cancer, or are in a car accident. We are all just one bad moment from having our lives drastically changed. Twelve years ago I had my life all planned out, then I got hit. Some hits you never fully recover from. Perhaps that shouldn’t even be the goal. Trauma changes us. The trick may be to use situations we hate to change us in the right direction.

Life isn’t fair. Sometimes the rich do get richer and the pretty people do get all the breaks. Sometimes the jerks yand the liars do get ahead and there really seems to be no justice in the world. The Nortel legal battle in Canada, among others, demonstrates that the laws that apply to some, do not necessarily apply to the rich. The right set of high-priced lawyers changes everything.

Have you ever noticed that rich men usually have better hair? There is no justice.

It’s easy to get bitter.

But it doesn’t help one bit.

Have you ever noticed that the older people get the more they become a caricature of themselves? It is as if our personalities are water-soluble and as we age more and more of the water evaporates, leaving us with more “us”. As the capacity to exercise social restraint wears away you begin to see who that person really is. Old people seem to go one of two ways; either they become more gracious, more beautiful, or they get more bitter. So many bitter people.

I do not want to become bitter as I grow older. Already I can see the my tendency to become judgmental, or critical, or just grouchy. There have been people who have hurt me deeply and my natural inclination is to hold grudges and carry that pain forever. Perhaps I am not alone in this.

At the end of the day, like most things, it is about choice. Choice and a great deal of hard work. Left to our own devices many of us will gradually slip further and further towards negativity. Awareness is important. Hard work is much more important. Working on myself cannot, must not, be something I only do when I need to get something or someone. My life is not a thing to be fixed, it is a project to be nourished.

I know from personal experience how damaging it can be to live with bitterness and unforgiveness. I like to say it’s like taking poison and hoping your enemy will die. And it really is that harmful to us to live this way.
Joyce Meyer

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Thank you for your response. ✨

Breaking Into The Department Store

Mac the Moose stands on the edge of Moose Jaw.
Mac the Moose stands on the edge of Moose Jaw. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

One day, while in high school, while walking in downtown Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan (yes that is a real place), my friend Glen Mueller and I broke into the Met Department Store. Perhaps ‘broke in’ is misleading. We walked by the store and one of us pulled on the door for fun – and it opened. This was many years ago at a time when stores still closed on Sunday.

It was a very surreal experience. Suddenly we were transported into a storehouse of riches. We could not believe our luck. Looking back I am slightly embarrassed that we did not just turn around and walk out, but at the time the temptation was too great.

The problem was, we panicked. We had no idea what was going on and were quite sure that we were not supposed to be left alone in our treasure trove of riches.

We stole a watch.

Amateurs.

We had the entire store at our disposal and we stole a watch. We almost didn’t do that much, we were so frightened. I cannot remember what happened to that watch but I’m pretty sure it was all Glen’s idea.

I have often reflected on how this memory is like life. How many opportunities missed, how many times have we been given a bit of light, only to squander it because of fear and desperation? How many times have I turned left when I should have turned right?

There are usually reasons why I make the wrong choices. Most of those reasons begin with, “It was easier to…” or “but I really want to!”. Like many of us my natural propensity is to take shortcuts or do was is easiest. Real change or real opportunity usually takes real work and it is easier to give the appearance of effort without putting in the hard time needed to move forward.

There is no magic pill.

There are a few very true statements about change that I remind patients from time to time. Change usually takes a great deal longer than we imagine. It also isn’t usually as drastic as we assume either. Last, but certainly not least, change isn’t always measurable or even immediately noticable. Take for example, a decision to go on antidepressents. The magic does not ordinarily kick in the first hour or first day. Often you don’t feel any better even after the first week. One day you come in to my office and I ask you how things have been and you admit that you feel “a little bit better”. That is how antidepressents work. They aren’t supposed to make you stoned, aren’t supposed to drastically impact your day. That is like change.

You can say the same thing for battling depression, or dealing with anxiety, or processing trauma. In fact you can use these axioms for much of life in general. Real life is usually, well it’s usually kind of boring. Few decisions radically affect our present unless they are bad decisions. Good things come to those who get up in the morning. Who get dressed. Who try. Who work at it. Who persevere.

Who do the right thing day after day after day.

My Woman Keeps Telling Me I’m Emotionally Unavailable!

Dinner

Last week I wrote an article alleging that women complain about men being emotionally unavailable, and my editor challenged me to provide insight to men who struggle to connect with their partners on a meaningful and intimate level. As with most things, it is far easier to criticize than to provide help. It’s also a lot more fun.

So what can the typical, confused, and frustrated male do when confronted by a spouse who accuses them of being emotionally unavailable? The answer may be more simple and obvious than most of us imagine.

1. It’s about being available… emotionally. How can I say this more clearly? Chances are your woman wants to talk about her feelings and process her thoughts with you over an extended period of time, and not just on one occasion. Men are often guilty of trying to appease their spouse just to get her off his back and get the job done. This is the problem, when you think about it. Real connection takes time and his has no obvious and immediate reward system. Remember when you liked to talk to your girlfriend on the phone for hours? Remember those tender moments when you so profoundly cared about what the other person was thinking? Remember those romantic walks where you would dream about the future? Being available is about being present, being involved intellectually and emotionally. It’s about connecting without expecting any sex at the end of the evening. This leads us to the next important thing that men need to get their head and genitals around…

2. Romance is not about sex. I know we all know this on an intellectual level but men desperately need to remind themselves that romance does not have to lead to sex. Romance is about connecting, touching (maybe), listening, smiling, and considering the other person before we consider ourselves. If you are only romantic if you think you will get sex at the end of the night than you really aren’t romantic at all. You are manipulative, petty and selfish but not romantic. I am not saying I am a romance guru but at least I am trying. And that is the point…

3. It’s all about trying. I cannot tell you the number of women that have admitted that they would have not ended their relationship if they thought that their spouse “was at least trying”. Women understand that we are emotional neanderthals and most will learn to cope if they know there is some movement forward. Most of us can put up with almost anything if we see light at the end of the tunnel. Relationships end when hope dies.

4. Quit acting like a baby. Women are not attracted to you when you beg for sex or pout when you don’t get your way. Most spouses did not marry you just to mother you so don’t give them a reason to need to. No one gives a damn if you have a cold so grow a pair and man up. Strength is sexy. Emotionally weak men are far more pathetic than physically weak ones. Women tell me all the time that one of the things they hate most about their man is that he is needy and they no longer respect him. Ask any woman and she will probably admit that weak men may attract strong women but eventually will not attract her sexually. Who wants to make love to an emotional child? Yuck.

5. Stop asking her how to connect with her. Many women believe that if you have to ask then you aren’t trying. Besides that, women are tired of having to do the work. I sympathize that you don’t understand how to connect with your wife. I know you think she is being ridiculously vague. She is a woman and she is talking female. You are listening with male ears and waiting for three easy steps. It isn’t going to happen and the earlier you get your head around this the further ahead you will be. You don’t understand what she really means and I get that.

Google it. Read a book. Join a group. Study your girl like you studied for your job. Spend the time. Learn about her sexuality. Find out about how women think and feel. Teach yourself to hear with female ears. Put aside your agenda. Read my articles on relationships. Stop working for sex; in fact don’t ask for sex at all until you figure this out. When you do have sex read my article on “Why Your Orgasm Doesn’t Matter” first.

You can do this. You are way smarter than your mother-in-law thinks. Become the sexual and romantic god you want to believe you already are.

The rewards are amazing.

I Know You

You have a need for other people to like and admire you, and yet you tend to be critical of yourself. While you have some personality weaknesses you are generally able to compensate for them. You have considerable unused capacity that you have not turned to your advantage. Disciplined and self-controlled on the outside, you tend to be worrisome and insecure on the inside. At times you have serious doubts as to whether you have made the right decision or done the right thing. You prefer a certain amount of change and variety and become dissatisfied when hemmed in by restrictions and limitations. You also pride yourself as an independent thinker; and do not accept others’ statements without satisfactory proof. But you have found it unwise to be too frank in revealing yourself to others. At times you are extroverted, affable, and sociable, while at other times you are introverted, wary, and reserved. Some of your aspirations tend to be rather unrealistic.

Cartoon about a fortune teller contacting the ...

That statement about you is called the Forer Effect, and I was reminded of it again while reading Cracked.com. The Forer effect refers to the tendency of people to rate sets of statements as highly accurate for them personally even though the statements could apply to many people. The above paragraph is completely generic and is used to illustrate how easily we can be convinced that vague generalities are actually accurate perceptions of our psyche. Most of us can relate to the statement above, it seems to describe us. It is the same effect that you get when you talk to a psychic, or read astrology, or practice astrotherapy. People tend to practice wishful thinking, tend to identify with generalities because we want to. We also tend to accept statements like this about ourself because they are flattering. This is the reason why people spend millions of dollars every year on the pseudosciences and on paranormal fortune-telling.

This is also the reason why most counseling doesn’t work.

There is a tendency in all of us to believe what we want to believe. We are tempted to seek out someone to confirm what we already believe about ourselves. Many of us are also seeking someone to give us permission. I cannot tell you how many times I have been confronted by persons who have come to me hoping to coerce me to tell them it is ok to do whatever it is they are already contemplating, no matter how destructive.

Here is a typical example that counselors are confronted with all the time: You want to have an affair and you are convinced that, in spite of the overwhelming evidence that things will not end well, this time it will be different. You want to believe that you are special, that you are the exception to the rule.

But you aren’t.

None of us are. We are all bound by the same cause and effect rules, the same fallibility, the same propensity to lie to ourselves when we really want something. I know this because I am not the exception either. I have done things, and said things, and contemplated things that I suspected were not in my best long-term interest but I did them anyway because I wanted to and on some level I was engaging in wishful thinking.

Counseling often doesn’t work because you have come to the appointment knowing what you are going to do already because you are convinced that you understand the situation better than I do. In some very legitimate terms you are correct. The problem arises from the fact that you know the situation too well, are too involved. You cannot see the forest for the trees, as the old saying goes. That is the reason that unpacking your problems with someone who is knowledgeable and empathetic can be such a valuable experience. Einstein said it so well when he said, “You cannot solve a problem from the same consciousness that created it. You must learn to see the world anew.” He was profoundly right. We are all tempted to believe our own bullshit.

Blame It On The Jews

Yellow badge Star of David called "Judens...

This morning I was leafing through a magazine that was chronicling the fourteenth-century British outbreak of the great plague. Fully one-third of the population succumbed to this tragedy, and it is considered one of the most important, albeit tragic, episodes in the birth and growth of the British Empire. I have difficulty wrapping my head around the effects of such a death toll on a fledgling nation. At the time there were several theories postulated as to the reason for this horrible event. Apparently the Jews did it. If you don’t believe me just type in “jews blamed for…” in the Google search engine.

Apparently the Jew are responsible for most of the tragedies in our world, including both world wars, 9/11, and the Treaty of Versailles. I even read on You tube recently, while watching a documentary on the Holocaust, that the Jews are to blame for orchestrating this as well. Blaming the Jews for the Holocaust is beyond contemptible.

The Jews run the Illuminati, the Jews fund terrorism, they are trying to take over the world, they run Hollywood. I am fairly certain that they are responsible for the lady who was at the express line in Safeway with too many items earlier today. They probably stole the ring of Mordor too; and cause ice cream to melt in hot weather. The Jews undoubtedly invented AIDS and refused to fluoridate the water when I was a kid, giving me all those cavities. I am fairly certain that if I was of Jewish descent that I would be rather bitter.

Damn Jews, always melting my ice cream and providing quality daytime programming.

It is easy to use someone else to scapegoat my problems. It is convenient to believe that there is some sort of plot aimed at world domination, some evil power (Starbucks) bent on ruining my life. It is a terrible tragedy that one race of good people have been tortured, blamed and persecuted for apparently thousands of years. It is laughable that they are blamed for killing Jesus, who apparently was a Jew. At least it would be laughable if it hadn’t spurred on such hate. No one seems to be upset with the Romans for orchestrating the event and sanctioning the hit. Who can be mad at a culture that introduced us to olive oil and Parmigiano-Reggiano?

Damn Americans killed Lincoln.

I love blaming other people for my problems. Censuring others for my issues removes my responsibility and allows me to continue to live as a victim. Such an attitude excuses my failures and does not force me to confront my own inadequacies.

I am not seeking to demean those of us, and there have been many, who have been damaged by a parent, or a spouse, or an authority figure. Millions of people have been abused and I believe that if you read this blog with any regularity you will have to admit that I do not make light of such real pain. As I mentioned in a previous article, there is a significant difference, however, between being victimized and playing the victim. I have had to come to realize, often far too slowly, that no one else is responsible for my happiness. No one else is going to make me healthy. Sadly as well, no one else will be able to bring me real happiness or wholeness. Divorce courts are replete with persons who have tried to find completeness in someone else.

At the end of the day that is a lesson worth learning. It is up to me to build and maintain a life worth living. Looking to someone else to complete me never works in the long run. You do not need to be in a relationship to be whole. Sorry but it is true.

Unfortunately it is also true that it is up to each one of us to work through our pains and move forward. Blaming other people for my life may feel cathartic but it will not help me find happiness.

If you don’t like this article blame my parents. Or the government.

The Freemasons made me do it.

Scrubbing Clean

English: Kids bathing in a small metal tub. Th...Most people who have kids know that each kid is very different. Rarely do you have two children who are similar, and that’s a good thing. I remember when my kids were young and so entirely unique it was hard to know they were from the same seed. Take bathing for example. For one of my kids it’s almost a religious experience. It was a holy place where he could spend hours bowing and gelling and playing in water that became so cold he would emerge from his shrine blue and puckered.

The other one though…

It was a religious experience for him too. The bathtub was sort of a “holy shrine” that you only visit once a year. One of my favorite quotes from him at that age was, “the good thing about being my age is you don’t have to wear any deodorant!”

It took him a long time to wash up, to penetrate those areas that haven’t been touched in so long, to scrub out the impurities collecting there since Christmas. Eventually he would emerge looking like a caucasian child again, freed up from the lovely ambience cloud he has carried around since his last pilgrimage to the holy of holies.

My mind is like that in a way. It is easy to fill it with impurities that seep into my consciousness and stain my heart – judgmentalism, unhealthy and sick desires, pettiness, hurt and pain, memories that continue to haunt me, failures… so many failures. Left alone those thoughts continue to gestate and take hold until I begin to live like they matter and fixate on the negative and destructive tendencies we all have.

There is a war going on in my mind. Usually, however, I am not contemplating anything horrific or illegal. Most days I am tempted, many of us are tempted, to choose the path of least resistance, do as little as possible, make selfish decisions, and forget to live my life as if it matters. That is the crux of it really. Living a lukewarm life is determined one decision at a time.

I am reminded of a definition of ‘sin’ I heard many years ago. The contention was that sin was not just the choosing of evil, but the choosing of the ‘lesser of two goods’. Choosing something that, while not inherently bad, is less than our potential and less than our best. It is an intriguing definition. Left to my own devices I am often prone to choosing less. Too often I have taken the lazy way out, the easiest road, the quickest fix.

There is a battle in each of us – between who we hope to be and who we are tempted to settle for. Between the potential me and the sellout. Between the Scott that will change his world and the Scott who will take the easiest path. Few things worth doing come easy.

There is a battle going on in you too. It is so much easier to take the path of least resistance. Two roads diverge in a wood. It’s tempting to ignore the changes that need to be made, to scrub up only the parts that are most exposed. Things like character and integrity are difficult and elusive, especially when no one is looking.

As I write these words, in the background, in the kitchen, Dustin Kensrue is singing:

spring time in heaven

I’ve got a feeling, it’s hard to explain
Feels like the devil rents a room in my brain
The things I’m ashamed of feel like dear old St. Paul
The things that I wanna do, I don’t do at all
So bury me deep, cover me with snow
Wrap me in sleep, blanket of ghosts
Spirit is willing, but the flesh is so weak
I wanna kiss your lips, but I kissed your cheek
Hear my request, give this one on fair way
Please take me home before it’s too late
Bury me deep, cover me with snow
Wrap me in sleep, blanket of ghosts
Wake me when it’s spring time in heaven
The tears are all white from my face
Wake me when it’s spring time in heaven
When I’m strong enough to walk in that place
So bury me deep, cover me with snow
Wrap me in sleep, blanket of ghosts
Wake me when it’s spring time in heaven
The tears are all white from my face
Wake me when it’s spring time in heaven

When I’m strong enough to walk in that place.

Fart Humour And Teenage Boys (Or Why Men Have A Mental Illness)

No farting!

It’s almost interesting how quickly five or six teenage boys can stink up a room. On the weekend we had a birthday sleepover for our youngest, a sugar-fuelled night of X-box killing and toilet humor. At one point I turned to my wife and said, “And this, honey, is why men are not emotionally available or in-tune with women.”

It’s quite true, when you take the time to consider it. Women start connecting on an emotional level early in life. Even as children most females talk about their feelings, dreams, and interests with other girls. They are relational machines.

Boys talk about farting, snot and make inappropriate jokes as they attempt to punch their friends in the crotch. This may not apply to all males but it certainly does to those I have known and grown up with. Put two young teens together, and if one of them is my fifteen year old, it will not be long before they are mocking each other out and looking for weapons to castrate each other. Male youth culture is obsessed with violence and erogenous zones. We are not taught to share our innermost thoughts and fears with each other. To do so is a sign of weakness and you will be summarily maligned.

I do not know if I had a single meaningful conversation with another male prior to senior high.

As I have mentioned at other times men are not dumb. Many women have been raised to believe men are stupid. They are not. Most are, however, emotional morons with little or no experience talking about their emotions or connecting on a deep level. Women learn, usually much too late, that most of the guys they have been with do not understand or connect with them as they wish and the result is frustration and pain. By the time they get to my office they are usually so frustrated they are considering leaving the relationship.

Women tend to have unrealistic emotional expectations of men. Yes this is a generalization but I tend to write in generalities. Women often say to me, “Why doesn’t he talk about his feelings?” When I tell them what I have just described to you the traditional response is, “But I have asked him to talk and told him I need him to engage and he isn’t. He should understand by now!”

Nope.

I have long argued that high schools need to teach things that are actually useful in life. Few of us come into adulthood understanding the opposite sex, relationships, finances, or how the real world works. I did not learn how to talk to women, how women think, how to emotionally connect. Few men do. Most of us think of women as some alien life form that cries too much and never seems to be happy, in spite of our attempts to fix her. I have already written dozens of articles on how difficult it is for women and men to speak the other’s language and understand the other’s messages. Relationships are tough and it doesn’t help that the sexes cannot even begin to get inside each other’s heads.

Ladies, the secret of a happy relationship if you are dating a male is three-fold:

1. Lower your expectations. We have a mental illness. You wouldn’t yell at a child with down-syndrome for misunderstanding you so why would you get mad at someone who have absolutely no idea what you mean and has no training in connecting with himself let alone with you. Sorry but it’s the truth. The secret to a happy relationship is lowering your expectations.

2. Help him to move forward. Any movement forward is good news for your relationship. All you really need in a spouse is humility and a desire to make you happy. You can work with that. If he doesn’t have those attributes than you have a bigger problem than just emotional connection. Get help.

3. Realize that we constantly think you are condescending. This is an absolute truth for most men I speak with. We interpret almost any nagging and forthrightness as belittling. Being spoken down to is a core trigger for men. Our psyche is built on respect. When you talk down to us we lose our minds. Learning to speak “dude” is a key to understanding the male heart. We can’t hear you if you talk like our mommy.

Communication is make-or-break for most relationships. Coming this spring I will be offering an on-line course called “Speaking Chick And Talking Dude”. It has taken me years to even scratch the surface of understanding when it comes to connecting with women and I do this full-time.  If you are in the Vancouver, Canada region I will be offering a group in Maple Ridge starting the end of January.

Good luck. I know this article is frustrating for many and brings up more questions than it answers. I did that on purpose.

(My editor added this comment: “Will you have the three secrets for the male – on how to survive with a relational being when you’ve never been taught how to be relational?”)

Related articles

Blaming Women For Rape

This article in the news today, Indian Gang Rape Suspects Appear in Court quotes a popular guru who is apparently casting blame on the victim…. again:

“The gang rape in Delhi has triggered massive outrage and put the spotlight on rape and sexual assault in India as well as calls for a change in attitudes which often blame rape victims for the crime. On Monday, there was furor over comments by a Hindu spiritual leader, Asaram Bapu, who suggested that the Delhi rape victim was also responsible for the crime as she boarded a bus in which there were no women. He said she should have called those who assaulted her brothers and pleaded for mercy.”

As a counselor I often run into women who have been raped or accosted and then blamed for the incident. Apparently because they were allegedly wearing provocative clothing, or acting nice, it is their fault for being violated on a level I cannot even understand. Such a belief is still held by many, and is contemptible and disgusting. If this were the case than every woman at a beach wearing a bathing suit deserves to be raped. After all, they seemed to be inviting it…

As a male I am frustrated by the apparent logic here that states that if a woman looks attractive than I am no longer responsible for my actions. What kind of ridiculous belief system alleges that I am such an animal, such a slave to my emotions and sexuality that I cannot be held responsible for my actions in the presence of someone I find attractive?

Chasing Tornadoes

i_believe_in_chasing_tornadoes_round_stickers-p217161373895334849en7l1_216One day, while living in Denver, Colorado, we heard that there was a tornado brewing in our area. This may seem like a big deal to you if you live somewhere else, but in Colorado tornadoes are a fact of life. I witnessed dozens of funnel clouds every year and often they would touch down, usually in a trailer park. God hates trailer parks. It’s not bad enough that you live in a home that can burn to ashes in four minutes. For some reason God has this habit of skipping houses with minivans and spanking the trailer folk.

Back to the true story. My wife is listening to the radio and she hears about this tornado heading right towards our neighborhood and she starts to get nervous, especially since my dad and I had gone for milk almost an hour ago and hadn’t gotten back. She started putting two and two together and started to shake her head and think to herself…. “they wouldn’t!”

Ok so my dad and I are cruising home from the Quickie Mart and we turn on the radio and we hear about this tornado heading right towards our neighborhood. We start to get excited. We had never seen a tornado from like, real close, and thought it would be cool to go looking for it. Actually it was my dad’s idea so that explains a lot about the kind of upbringing I had.

So here are two stupid Canadians in a Dodge Colt driving towards the tornado. We’re passing vans and cars and your basic fleeing mob going the other way. It was awesome, there was no traffic in our lane.

How close can you get to a tornado? It turns out you can get very close indeed. Fifty feet if you are stupid enough, or so I’ve heard. I blame my father. What kind of parent would let someone like me chase tornadoes?

The moral of the story is, Canadians are idiots. No, wait, that’s not it. The moral of the story is – it seemed like a good idea at the time. In retrospect, although it was still very cool, we were flirting with disaster.

At the time we believed we knew what we were doing.
At the time we thought we knew the score.
At the time.

When I was struggling with dark depression, at the time I felt I was making the best decisions for my future. At the time.

When I was lonely and horny and had no one to hold, at the time I thought I was making the right decisions for my life. At the time.

When you are struggling with mental health issues and chronic pain and fatigue and loneliness and stress and financial problems it is tempting to make decisions that feel right… at the time. Unfortunately few decisions that are made when we are at our worst turn out for our best. At these times most of us have lost our objectivity and the pain has sapped us of our motivation to do what is difficult. Very often what seems “like a good idea at the time” is in fact very detrimental to our future lives and we are unable to see it. In these moments we need to be very willing to accept the advice of those who love us and can see things more objectively. I have failed to take such at advice on occasion and have usually come to regret it.

Here are a few examples to leave you with:
listen1. When you are infatuated with your new romantic interest you probably do not see the whole picture; understand that you are not qualified to make long-term decisions at that moment.
2. When you are in love and people are screaming at you that your lover has big problems you need to listen to them because you are not being objective.
3. When you are depressed you will not make good decisions. Yes I mean you.
4. If you are at a vulnerable, hurting, or damaged place in your life if it feels good than chances are you shouldn’t do it.
5. Good advice rarely sounds good when you are in pain.
6. When you are struggling, depressed, or hurting, your inner voice will tell you to do things that are selfish, destructive, and short-sighted. Don’t listen to that voice.
7. If you think no one understands what you are going through you are probably right. Talk to someone.
8. Real change takes a ton of time and effort. Get-fixed-quick schemes don’t work in the long run. Ever.
9. Most of your friends are not qualified to give you advice. Remember that.
10. Get off the couch. Get out of bed. Open the curtains.
11. You will fail. Failure is an important part of getting better.
12. Ninety percent of success is just showing up, even when you don’t feel like it.

“The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an appreciation, a sensitivity, and an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen.” 
― Elisabeth Kübler-Ross

Capture the Flag

PaintballSplatHave you ever played paintball? It’s this disgusting sport where you attempt to mow other people down in the name of recreation. It promotes values like picking on the weak, killing, and violence on many levels. It’s really cool.

One of the most popular games you play at paintball is “Capture the Flag”. It’s the same as normal capture the flag except with guns, which adds a certain edge to the whole experience. In paint ball capture the flag, the idea is to hide or die. Only morons with a desire for pain make those lightning attempts to outrun the opposition in full daylight. The goal is stealth – see but not be seen. Kill and not be killed. If you are shot you have to go to the jail and hope to be liberated. It is the ultimate humiliation. Some would allege that it is far better to hide and play it safe. Good things come to those who hide and sneak and take cheap shots.

We are good at hiding. Many of us hide behind excuses; our life is not our fault. Others jump from relationship to relationship, blaming our ex’s for everything bad that happened. It is far easier to rationalize our behaviours than have to hold them up to the mirror of reality. We can hide for a variety of reasons because it is an uncomfortable thing to face the truth. This is one of the reasons that so many people never really grow up, never really understand life.

Self awareness, real self-awareness, usually comes at a terrible price.

Taking a hard look at our issues is not something we are prone to do until things get messy. Most people merrily go about their lives blaming the government, their parents, and their ex-lovers for the problems in their life. Real personal change takes an enormous amount of painful work. Frankly, most of us will pretend to address our issues while only scratching the surface.

In the movie As Good As It Gets, Jack Nicholson’s character, Melvin, is forced to confront his own dysfunction and begins to realize that the very foundations of his existence and the beliefs he holds most dear are in fact bigoted, narrow, sick and twisted. As the movie progresses you watch this shell of a man come to terms with his life, a life that has been destroyed by his own attitudes. As the final act unfolds Melvin is humbled and enlightened, and his reality begins to change. In the real world things do not change in 120 minutes, but they can change.

There are a million reasons to hide and only one reason to get up and run. It is impossible to capture the flag, or any flag for that matter, without exposing yourself to risk and potential pain. On D-Day the officers knew, as they were urging frightened men to get out of their hole and storm the machine gun nests, that to stay on the ground was to invite certain death. It felt safe there, but it wasn’t. Victory only came through a hailstorm of bullets.

The willingness to be brutally honest with yourself will change your life. Real growth comes through pain and humility and failure. You may have to confront your darkest secrets and worst nightmares but it will be worth it.

Many of us, myself included, have struggled with the fear that people will not love us if they saw our ugliness, our sick thoughts, our petty dreams. We are afraid that we are unloveable so we hide behind masks, hoping to fool the world and fool ourselves. The result is a life of frustration, depression, anxiety and pain.

In counseling we call this a “cognitive distortion”. We have convinced ourselves that no one would care for us if we came clean.

We are wrong.

We have believed the lies about our own ugliness for so long that it is hard to imagine being free. We begin to think that we are unlike other people, we are freaks incapable of change.

We are wrong.

I have been there. Many of us have. The pit of self-loathing and recrimination is a deep one with few hand holds. It is better to hide, or so we think.

Humpty Dumpty had a great fallHumpty Dumpty sat on the wall.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King’s horses and all the King’s men
Couldn’t put Humpty together again.

But did you know that there’s more to the story?

Not only did all the King’s horses and all the King’s men try to help Humpty out, “soon the King himself heard of Humpty’s fate. News about him had reached all the way to the palace, and the King was deeply disturbed. So setting aside his royal finery, disguised as a common peasant, the King slipped unnoticed through the majestic palace gates and into the rough-and-tumble street life of his kingdom.

“The King meandered through the back streets and alleys in search of Humpty. After several days and nights the persistent monarch found him. Humpty’s shattered body was scattered over a ten-foot circle amidst the broken glass and flattened beer cans of the back alley.

“Though weak from his searching, the King was overjoyed at the sight of Humpty. He ran to his side and cried, ‘Humpty! It is I – your King! I have powers greater than those of my horses and men who failed to put you together again. Be at peace. I am here to help!’

“‘Leave me alone,’ Humpty’s mouth retorted. ‘I’ve gotten used to this new way of life. I kind of like it now.’

“‘But – ’ was all the King could get out before Humpty continued.

“‘I tell you, I’m fine. I like it here. That trash can over there… the way the sun sparkles on the broken glass. This must be the garden spot of the world!’

“The King tried again. ‘I assure you my kingdom has much more to offer than this back alley – there are green mountains, rolling surfs, exciting cities….’

“But Humpty would hear none of it. And the saddened King returned to the palace.

“A week later one of Humpty’s eyes rolled skyward only to see once again the concerned face of the King standing over his fractured pieces.

“‘I’ve come to help,’ firmly stated the King.

“‘Look, leave me alone, will you?’ said Humpty. ‘I’ve just seen my psychiatrist, and he assures me that I’m doing a fine job of coping with my environment as it is. You’re a cop-out. A man has to deal with life as it comes. I’m a realist.’

“‘But wouldn’t you rather walk?’ asked the King.

“‘Look,’ Humpty’s mouth replied, ‘once I get up and start walking I’ll have to stay up and keep walking. At this point in my life I’m not ready to make a commitment like that. So, if you’ll excuse me – you’re blocking my sun.’

“Reluctantly the King turned once again and walked through the streets of his kingdom back to the palace.

“It was over a year before the King ventured to return to Humpty’s side.

“But, sure enough, one bright morning one of Humpty’s ears perked up at the sure, steady strides of the King. This time he was ready. Humpty’s eye turned toward the tall figure just as his mouth managed the words, ‘My King!’

“Immediately the King fell to his knees on the glass-covered pavement. His strong, knowing hands gently began to piece together Humpty’s fragments. After some time, his work completed, the King rose to full height, pulling up with him the figure of a strong young man.

“The two walked hand in hand throughout the kingdom. Together they stood atop lush green mountains. They ran together along deserted beaches. They laughed and joked together as they strolled down the streets of the gleaming cities of the King’s domain. This went on forever. And to the depth, breadth, and height of their friendship there was no end.

“Once while walking together down the sidewalk in one of the King’s cities, Humpty overheard a remark that made his heart leap with both the joy of his new life and the bitter memory of the back alley. Someone said, ‘Say, who are those two men?’

“Another replied, ‘Why the one on the left is old Humpty Dumpty. I don’t know the one on the right – but they sure look like brothers’”.

5 Excuses That Prevent Us from Growing Up

stolen from cracked.com

How many of you have friends who logged more hours on Black Ops 2 last week than they did at their job? Or maybe they constantly complain that they’re never going to find someone, but the last person they asked out was over a conversation about how they heard that the new Star Wars films were going to be all about Darth Vader and how it was going to be the best thing in the history of cinema? They just sit around in a funk, and it takes every ounce of willpower to stop yourself from grabbing them by the ankles and screaming at their crotch until balls appear.

It’s those goddamn excuses. Every time you try to help, they have a retort that makes so much sense to them — but to anyone who has lived through even five minutes of adulthood, it’s just bullshit. And believe me, I know these quite well. I was a master at saying and believing things like …

#5. “The System Is Unfair! I Refuse to Participate!”

Back in the early ’90s, fresh out of high school, I tried to get a job at a local candy factory, because hell yes. At the time, I had virtually no work history. No experience with job interviews, no experience with applications, and barely anything to put on them, outside of my name and address. I didn’t get the job, which was not unexpected, because even if you factor out my extensive arrest record for “genital terrorism,” many of the “any dumbass can do this” jobs required heavy, repetitive lifting, and at the time I was built like a losing game of Hangman.

My mom’s boyfriend worked there and told me later that the interviewer didn’t hire me because of my hair (the left half was shaved, while the right half was down around the middle of my back). Now, hindsight tells me that he explained it because that interview marked the beginning of a very long string of job rejections that I couldn’t figure out. But at the time, I got offended and exclaimed, “That’s discrimination!” Then I asked him, “If I press the issue, would you be willing to say in court that they discriminated against me based on my hair?” And he looked at me the way you’re looking at your monitor right now: a cringe, laced with “You are the dumbest twat alive.” But instead of fixing the hair problem that was preventing me from gaining employment, I instead dyed it green out of protest, thinking, “If I have to change who I am in order to work, that’s not a job I want in the first place!” In my mind, I was standing up against a horrible injustice.

The problem with this excuse isn’t about the job. It’s about our juvenile sense of entitlement — our naive belief that we can do whatever we want without repercussions. If you want to see what I mean in action, pull up any video of a cop using a Taser and read through the comments. I can save you the trouble if you value your sanity enough to decline that experiment. If the cop was in the wrong, it will be post after post from people frothing with rage, declaring that it’s time we stood up and took back our country from “corrupt fucking pigs.” They’ll compare police officers to gang members and say they’re on a power trip. You’ll see the phrase “Nazi Germany” more than when the Nazis were actually in power in Germany. It’s “abuse of power” and “They need to be fired and put in jail!” A third of the people will claim that they’d kill the cop if they were there, because the Internet is a perfectly logical place with people who aren’t completely fucking stupid at all.

And the cops who were totally in the right? Same exact response.

From the moment we were crotched into this world, we’ve been taught that nobody has the right to speak to us with a certain tone of voice. But we have a right to speak our minds no matter what, and that other person has to listen and give weight to what we say. So when we’re in a situation where there is simply no fucking discussion in the matter (traffic stop, meeting with the boss, redneck wedding trying to fist fight the police), our gut reaction is “NO! You will listen to what I have to say, because I have a right to express my feelings and opinions!”

We think that because the boss is being an asshole about our work performance or the police officer is yelling, “Get your ass on the fucking ground” (instead of “I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but could you please do me a favor and lie face down for just a few seconds?”), it excuses us from having to listen to them or follow their instructions. Instead of complying, we rebel out of this weird sense of justice. “I can’t let them get away with that. I’m not doing what they say because I don’t have to – OH MY GOD, THIS HURTS SO BAD, MY BODY IS BURNING WITH ELECTRICITY!”

When we’re kids, that’s a great lesson, because it’s teaching us important morals about communication and expression. I’m not saying that you shouldn’t stand up for your rights or should let injustice go unchecked. I’m saying that when you become an adult, you learn where that shit is appropriate and where it will earn you a free face-kneeing. People who never get past that original childish viewpoint find themselves on the pavement with a Taser shoved trigger-deep in their asshole while they scream “WHAT’D I DO?!” Adults know that battling authority on their grounds only makes it worse — you fight that shit in court.

#4. “I’m Just Not Ready to Settle Down Yet!”

You’ll hear this from bachelors who don’t want to get married or party lovers who aren’t ready to give up the “drink until three, sleep until two” lifestyle. Other variations include “There will be time to slow down when I’m older” and “I’m living life to its fullest.” Followed by intense puking noises.

It sounds pretty straightforward, I’ll admit, even from an adult perspective. Hell, I know adults who still live by that motto. Here’s the problem, though: Most adults understand that the idea of basing the quality of your life on the amount of liquor you drink or the strangers you fuck is an illusion created by the unweathered mind. That’s not an insult — it’s a product of biology. The body is still getting high off of a fresh supply of hormones and impulse, and it’s not quite ready to step outside of the “If it feels good, do it” mentality. We all go through it — there’s nothing wrong with it at the time.

Eventually, though, you start to mature and realize that every second you spend living like that is a second you haven’t spent building your career or securing your retirement or building a legacy. And the longer you put it off, the more of a head start you give your competition for the perfect job or the perfect spouse. You start realizing that all of your friends bought their first house at age 30, while you’re counting wrinkled wads of singles from the strip club the night before to pay your rent.

Does that mean you have to give up everything that’s fun and grind through endless identical days of work with a scowl and a puckered asshole? Hell no. Just like all of these points, it boils down to “there’s a time and a place.” Settling down does not mean “giving up.” It means “It’s time to stop talking about what I want to be in life, and actually become that thing.”

When you’re younger, that perspective is hard to see. You see compromise as a negative thing that means “Stop having fun” instead of a means to the most dramatic personal growth you’ll ever experience. In this respect, the difference between juvenile and adult is “more” versus “better.” When you’re young, your mind will hammer you for more orgasms, more buzz, more parties … When you’re an adult, you work your ass off, and as a side effect of that, you can afford better wine. You focus on building a solid relationship where the sex is better and actually means something.

The unfortunate problem with this point is that until you actually live it, it sounds like bullshit. But believe me, any adults who tell you that they’d rather relive their teenage years than their current life aren’t doing it right.

#3. “I Can’t Make It on My Own!”

Once upon a time, I lived my life in a perpetual state of partying and sleeping on whatever couch was available to me. Two of my closest friends at the time had their own apartment, but their mothers paid all the rent and bills for them, so I found myself hanging out with them a lot. None of us worked, and we didn’t make much of an effort to alleviate that problem. Mostly because we didn’t see it as a problem. Some of our other friends had part-time jobs but didn’t make enough to pay basic bills, so they lived at home with mom, trying and failing to save up. Again, never making the effort to find a better job or tack on a second one to fill the financial gaps.

This isn’t even close to uncommon. Thirty percent of young adults live with their parents, 53 percent if you look at just the 18-to-24 age group. If you’re not in this situation, that’s awesome — no sarcasm, I’m sincerely proud of you. If you are in the situation I described above, though, I need you to do something that’s kind of painful, even in the realm of imagination. I need you to imagine that the person helping you out becomes one of the 10,000 people a year who die in a DUI-related accident.

Just driving home from work, completely sober — never even knew what hit them. Bam. Gone.

What happens now? Fuck the funeral costs — what are you going to do in four days when the fridge is empty? In two weeks when the rent, electric, gas, car payment, phone bill, and trash pickup all become due? Do you know how to wash your own clothes? Can you cook more than a couple of meals that don’t come out of a box? When a future job asks for your Social Security card or a copy of your birth certificate, do you have one? Do you know how to get one if you lose them? You should know every last bit of that shit right this second. And you should most definitely have enough of an income locked down that if God forbid something does happen, you can survive.

I know that many of you are in these situations because you graduated from college and can’t find a job in your field, but you need to hear something that may piss you off: Fuck your dreams. Fuck them right exactly in their dream asses. Not off to the side — not a grazing ass poke. Right in it. Right now, you’re working for survival.

Got a degree in music? Fine, you can look for a job in that field while you’re collecting an actual real paycheck from whatever job is willing to hand you money — and sometimes that means working two or three of them to ensure that you have a place to live, while using your lunch break to hand out resumes for your dream. Every famous person in entertainment who wasn’t handed a gift-wrapped career has a string of “shitty job” stories that he or she had to endure while working on becoming something better. Very few of them say, “I got my degree and then hunted around for a few years before I found a job in acting.”

Unless you’re flat-out rich, the economy will not allow you the luxury of cherry picking your employment. You cannot use the economy as an excuse — you have to use it as motivation.

#2. “It’s Not Just Me Getting Screwed, It’s Everyone I Know!”

In general, the members of any particular group of friends tend to share each other’s traits to a certain degree. Rich people tend to hang out with other rich people. Sports fans hang out with other sports fans. All of my closest friends are in comedy or have freakishly large penises. The same was true about the group of unmotivated, jobless friends I mentioned earlier. And let me tell you, there is no reassurance on earth as powerful as what a support group provides.

“Hey, it’s not your fault, man. Look at me — I haven’t had a job in six months. There just isn’t jack shit in this town.” But if you had asked any of us when our last application was filled out, the honest answer would have been “weeks.” It’s not all about laziness, although that was certainly a factor for myself and many of my friends at the time. It’s that the more you hang around with other people who are justifying their failures with excuses, the more realistic those excuses sound. And getting on someone else’s ass who has the same problem as you … well, that’s exactly the same as admitting that you’re just as fucked. So in that situation, reassuring your friends that nothing is their fault and everything will be just fine is, in essence, saying it to yourself. Eventually, you just talk yourselves out of any hope of ever progressing in life.

Hanging around that group is a safe, warm, comfortable place to be because nobody is putting pressure on you to get up and fight — there is only reassurance. “What can you do? It’s the economy. Might as well enjoy what we do have: friends and beer!” Again, I don’t mean to just harp on jobs — it works for anything in life. “We’re better off alone than dating any of the people in this town. They’re all rednecks and dumbasses.” “Give up cocaine? Why? There’s nothing to do here except get fucked up.” “Being a fan of Nickelback and Limp Bizkit is nothing to be ashamed of. We are all good people with great taste in music.”

There comes a time when you have to grit your teeth and separate yourself from the things that are holding you back, and the unfortunate thing about this one is that there’s a good chance you’re going to lose some friends in the process. Because the sheer act of you fixing your life changes your perspective and philosophy, and that is going to set you apart from the group. Not to mention that in making the effort to grow in your job or relationship, that commitment is going to take up an immense amount of time. And while they have hours and hours to kill, sitting around and talking about how much the world has fucked them, you’re going to be out there doing the things they say they can’t do themselves.

They will resent you for it because you’re proving them wrong, and because you’re not spending as much time with them as they’d like. “What, that slut is more important to you than your friends? You think you’re better than us because you got a nice job?”

Does that group always collapse when one of the members makes it out? No, but then again, you don’t get herpes every time you fuck someone who has it. In my experience, it happens far more often than not. But that’s what sets you apart as an adult. Adults prepare for it and accept the consequences. Children stay in the same situation, because upsetting their friends and leaving that comfort zone is too much to endure. And God knows you don’t want to lose the respect of people who only hand it out during pity party circle jerks.

#1. “I Just Haven’t Been Given a Chance Yet!”

There are plenty of things that I’d love to go back in time and kick my own ass for, but that one is pretty high on the list. That was my go-to excuse for not progressing in life, and I used it motherfucking everywhere. “I can’t believe they gave her the assistant manager spot! I know more about this gas station than anyone — this is bullshit!” Or “I can’t believe she’s dating that dickhead. What does he have that I don’t? This is also bullshit!

In both cases, if I had just been given a shot, I know I could have been the best they’d ever seen. In both cases, I never let them know I was interested — not even in passing. In both cases, the person who got the spot went after it full force. That … kind of sounds bad, but you know what I mean.

In my own life, I’d sit back and wait for things to come to me, partially because I never had anyone teach me how to go out and get those things. Partially because it’s what we’ve been taught in pretty much every movie ever made. Win the big race, and the girl finally realizes she loves you. Do something even slightly worthy of praise, and the owner of the company pops out and says, “I like your style. Come talk to me on Monday morning and we’ll get you set up with a big office and your own secretary to urinate on.” (I’m guessing that’s how it goes — I don’t actually watch many movies.) There has always been a very clear message of “Just live your life to the best of your ability, and life will shoot rewards out at you like one of those T-shirt bazookas.”

That’s even reinforced in your everyday life throughout childhood. Do a great drawing in art class, and the teacher holds it up in front of everyone and gives you praise. Good writing is read as an example to other students. Exceptional report cards might earn a few bucks or a night out with dad at the local brothel. But in the adult world, rarely does great work ever get past the “Good job — now get back to fucking work” stage.

Though it does happen from time to time, rarely do promotions come to you without you ever making it known that you’re interested in moving up the ladder. Rarely does that girl or guy suddenly look across a crowded party and say, “Oh my God, it was you I’ve been looking for all along! I can’t believe I’ve been so blind! Touch my hunch monkey!” Not without some genuine effort on your part.

But that’s the thing … using this “I’ve never been given a chance” excuse is the most effective defense mechanism in the ego’s entire arsenal. Saying it puts the blame for your failures on the shoulders of the other person. It’s certainly not your fault — hell, you’re the one with all the untapped talent and passion to be the best they’ve ever seen. How could it possibly be your fault? It also keeps the world from knowing exactly how good you really are, outside of all the talk. If you did make the effort and you did get that position or relationship, and it turned out that you were just average, everyone can see it. Relying on the excuse allows you to talk about how good you would be if only other people were wise enough to notice.

In other words, in your mind, you get to be the best without ever having to prove it. And there aren’t many things more comfortable in life than being the best at something without ever having to experience the stress of actually being the best at something.

Again, everyone goes through this stuff. If you’re one of the people I’m describing here, I’m not saying it to make fun of you or imply that you’re somehow beneath the rest of us. I learned this shit 15 years later than I should have — I’m a worse offender than almost all of you. I wish I could go back and follow my old self around so I could catch me in the act and say, “There. You’re doing it right there, fucko. ELBOW DROP!” But since I can’t, maybe I can save a few people some future embarrassment by letting you know that it exists. Because it exists. And you will eventually be embarrassed by it.

Use Your Compass

IMGP0127The truth will set you free, but first it will piss you off.                 Gloria Steinem

A long time ago and in a distant life I was a canoe guide in Northern Saskatchewan. Most people do not know that some of the best whitewater and wilderness in the world is found there. Don’t tell anyone, we don’t want the masses to know.

When canoeing on the Churchill River one is eventually going to have to traverse Nipew (Dead) Lake. It is not called dead lake because the flora and fauna is dead but because of some of the cool voyageur battles and imported white man diseases that ravaged the area during the fur trade. One can easily, when paddling the myriad of islands on Nipew, imagine being ambushed by Northwest Company voyageurs hundreds of years ago. People who say Canadian history is boring need to come north.

We always tried to get across Nipew Lake early in the morning before the waves got up. It’s a big lake and nasty from about nine a.m. to six p.m. everyday. It’s a long paddle. I’ve been stranded on the lake several times, taking refuge on islands or inlets.
We tried to get on the lake by about six am. Usually that is evilly early but I have learned that if I sleep in, the price is too high. It’s usually foggy on the lake and I’m headed for a tiny inlet eleven kilometres away. I can’t afford to make mistakes. I have learned how to read a compass. I know about things like declination and magnetic north. My compass was the most expensive piece of equipment I carried. I made my employer pay for it and if they want it back they can pry it from my cold dead hands.
When I was in the fog and I had eleven canoes and twenty potentially dead people, I learned to trust my compass, not my eyes. I didn’t trust my ears, I don’t even trust my experience. I have tried to fake it in the past and gotten caught. On one occasion, early in my guiding career, I was sure that I was going down the right arm of this confusing lake only to realize too late that I had made a six-hour detour with a large group of tired and frustrated high-schoolers. It is a lesson not soon forgotten.

SONY DSCThe point I am trying to make is that sometimes even our best judgment cannot be trusted. If you are depressed or anxious or prone to obsessing than it is very important to realize that you cannot trust your emotions and best thinking. Sometimes it is very important to consult a compass, a guide you can trust. I have.

You wouldn’t trust someone who is suicidally depressed to do your taxes would you? Would you trust them to take care of your children? Of course not. The fact remains, however, that day after day many of us who are struggling with mental health issues choose to trust our subjective and emotionally based cognitive distortions to guide us. We make decisions that are based on our depression or anxiety or worse. We allow ourselves to be guided by the worst advice imaginable – our own. Sometimes you need to find a compass. Basing your decisions on your own tired and stressed out emotions is usually a sure-fire recipe for disaster and ongoing illness.

I remember many years ago, when I was at my worst, the insane and destructive thinking that I engaged in. At some points I am certain, and I have a level of expertise in this area, that I was completely off my nut. The grief was so extreme I contemplated and did things that were absolutely not in my best interests. I made parenting decisions that I continue to forgive myself for even years later. Some of my career decisions were, for lack of a better word, insane. I do not choose to hold these decisions against myself still because I was not thinking like a rational and healthy person.

And that is the point.

Get help. Talk to a counselor that doesn’t suck. Be gracious with yourself. Don’t believe your own bullshit.

You’re worth it.

 

The Myth of the Strong Silent Type (or Never Date Someone Who Is Emotionally Unavailable)

Growing up I wanted to be Spiderman. Not the Tobey Maguire metro-sexual ripoff, the real Spiderman; from the cartoons. “Is he strong? Listen bud, he’s got radioactive blood. Can he swing from a thread? Take a look overhead. Look out, here comes

Magyar: Spiderman arcfestés the Spiderman.”

Spiderman, Clint Eastwood, Arnold the Terminator, Jet Li, Rocky 1,2,3,4,5, and of course the A Team. It was a time when ‘men were men’, or so the saying goes. Real men didn’t cry, show emotions, or ask for help. They knew how to fight, or at least pretend to.

And we didn’t talk about our feelings while we were sober. Ever.

Most men grow up in a very different world then women. Women are used to sharing how they feel, their struggles, clothing styles, emotions. Women go to the bathroom in groups. I was not taught how to share my feelings; in fact to do so was frowned upon. Now take that same man and put him in a romantic relationship with a woman. She really likes him, he listens very well. He’s strong and protective; she feels safe in his arms.

(I am conscious that this sounds sexist. This is obviously a generalization)

Fast forward twenty years and that same woman is sitting in my office, complaining that her husband is ’emotionally unavailable’. He doesn’t share his feelings. She relates that they never really talk anymore and have significant communication problems. All of their conversations end in a fight and the trust and compassion are gone. She is obviously very vulnerable and confesses that she has been cheating on him. How could things have ended up so bad?

What could possibly have gone so wrong that she would forsake her wedding vows? They seemed like such a solid couple. From the outside it appears as if they are doing well but if you could be a fly on the wall the answer becomes obvious, if you take the time to analyze it.

Unfortunately, this scenario is far more common than most people think. Even in relationships where there is no infidelity many partners complain that their spouse is not emotionally available. This woman was starving for attention. She has been married to the same man all her life and things have slowly gone from bad to worse. Her marriage is not turning out like it was supposed to when she dreamed as a girl of fairytale weddings, passion, and happily ever after. She found she was becoming needy and began fantasizing about what life could be like with Prince Charming. And Prince Charming was more than willing to say all the right words, listen to her stories, and empathize about things her husband didn’t seem to care about.

I know multiple situations when the roles are reversed. Same-sex relationships often have their share of emotionally unavailable partners as well.

Time after time I talk to patients, usually women, who complain that they cannot connect or communicate with their partner. Before they were married or moved in everything seemed so much better. Now, however it feels like she is living with a stranger. Attempts to create conversations are often met with grunts or monosyllabic words. After all these years, now that the glow has worn off, this couple is discovering that they really have nothing in common. Add to this the fact that even on the topics they can discuss one or both of the partners is prone to become angry, usually over the simplest thing. This couple is most likely headed for a divorce.

There are many stated reasons why couples get divorced but it is apparent that once they stop communicating things are only going to go from bad to worse. After twenty years of marriage many couples no longer share any of their innermost thoughts. Women complain that they are practically living as strangers and their spouse has rarely tried to connect or communicate beyond the regular household courtesies.

Marrying or being with an emotionally unavailable partner is never a good idea. I hear people all the time tell me that they knew their spouse wasn’t open about their feelings and thoughts before they made a solid commitment but at the time they thought this would be no big deal. Sure he doesn’t go on at length about himself or about the relationship but he’s so caring, so nice, and has such a great sense of humor. They are soul-mates and are going to spend the rest of their life together.

Wrong.

Ask anyone who has spent ten or twenty years with an emotionally unavailable person and they will admit that things have not turned out the way they had hoped. They are starving for deep conversations and intimacy, and have had to go outside the house to find this. These women are struggling to emotionally and sexually bond, and the impact on their self esteem, libido and lovemaking is profound. The longer they are together the more distant they seem to become.

No relationship is perfect but if you are in a situation like I have described you need to get help fast. Believing that person will somehow change is ‘pie in the sky’ thinking. It’s simply not going to happen unless there is an intervention. Get help from a counselor who doesn’t suck. Work on yourself first because getting that other person to change is damn near impossible unless they are humble and willing to address their fundamental relational flaws.

Don’t settle for a mediocre relationship if you can help it. Fight for your life, you deserve it.

And don’t even get me started on dating the ‘bad boy’…