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Dear Bel,
I’m totally stuck. My pain is endless and every day I wish I was dead. I live with chronic pain day and night. My mother died two years ago; We were very close to her and I miss her every minute.
My only family is my sister, older and self-centered. She is not willing to help me with anything unless she pays her, which I have done in the past. In fact, I am now in debt for having to get her out of a situation too complicated to describe here.
Suffice to say, I mourn my mother and just can’t move on. I also can’t forgive my sister for the terrible mistakes she has made.
My physical needs are increasing and she doesn’t care; I don’t see her or hear from her month after month, but she lives a two-minute walk away. I’m only here when she has a crisis or needs something (like money).
I have friends, but they have their own families and are busy. So this life has no meaning. I’m 50 years old and I can’t work anymore. In fact, there’s very little I can do these days except think. And that makes it worse.
I’m afraid of falling and walking is not very good, so I need someone to accompany me when I go out. That’s why I almost never go out.
I don’t want to seem sorry for myself, but I’ve had enough of this life. It doesn’t make sense anymore. I read his column every week and I greatly respect his views. What do you think?
BEAUTIFUL
Bel Mooney responds: Thank you for your respect, although it is heartbreaking to read about your pain, disappointment, and despair, all expressed so succinctly.
You don’t tell me why you have chronic pain or what treatment you are receiving, or if your mother lived with you until her death, or if your sister was attentive to your late mother.
I wish I knew those things, but it doesn’t matter. . . I’ll try to work with what I have, and since you’re a regular reader, you can probably guess that I’ll try to be positive. Although I recognize how difficult it is.
No wonder you still cry for your beloved mother and I guess you don’t really want to “move on.”
Grief can offer a strange comfort: a certainty to rest on when the rest of life seems hopeless. But it does change and change, you know, and the morning may come when you look out the window, notice the blue of the sky, breathe deeply, and feel the spirit of your loved one propelling you toward life. And it’s important to allow that to happen.
Of course, it will be much more difficult for you because you are close to your mother and because you live with chronic pain; However, I only ask that you be aware of the possibility that the pain and despair can change.
I wonder what caused your sister to be the way she is. Was she jealous of your closeness to your mother?
I’m surprised I should expect payment for anything I’ve done in his name.
I’m certainly not going to urge you to forgive her, but I will ask you to stop expecting her to be different. The more you expect from her, the more hurt you will feel again.
Now we come to your point about friends. You’ve convinced yourself that you can’t trust them because “they have their own families and are busy.” But how can you know for sure that a negative statement is true?
I suggest that both intense grief for your mother and anger toward your sister have caused you to withdraw. One of the most generous things we can do for others is to let them know that we need them, that we care about them, and that we are happy to have their company. I think you should do this as soon as possible. You’re trapped, so you need to get out of the house.
Surely one of these friends would be delighted if it were a regular outing. I understand mobility issues and the fear of falling, so I suggest you equip yourself with a pair of Nordic poles for balance.
They are a boon for walkers and if anything, they make you look athletic. Think of them as an essential aid that will help you walk toward friendships, toward better health, and toward the understanding that life, no matter how painful, is definitely worth living.
How do we tell a friend that it is not safe to drive?
Dear Bel,
We are a group who socialize and sing together every week and one of us, in his 60s, offers lifts. to others.
But his driving is dangerous; accelerates and has little control over the vehicle.
A guy who was recently in the car with him had to lie down for two hours when he got home, and I’ve also had personal experience of his erratic driving. He had two accidents near his house due to poor parking.
This may seem funny, but it’s really not. He brings older members and while I fear for his safety, I realize they would miss outings and events if he didn’t make them the offer.
It has been suggested that the group do a drawing and that person chats with the boy.
This would go down like a lead balloon in many ways; no one would want to do it and it might seem condescending to the older people it affects the most.
His brother (who lives far away) doesn’t see him very often and would be a neutral person to broach the topic with. We seem to have reached an impasse – what would you suggest?
Chris
Bel Mooney responds: It certainly wouldn’t be “funny” if one of your friends got hurt in a practical joke.
Being a passenger in a poorly driven car can be absolutely terrifying, especially if the driver talks and gestures all the time. This is an example of a small problem that could have big consequences.
I think involving his brother is a complete failure. So is the draw to choose the daring one who will tell things as they are. Mr. Speedy will get angry or just brag; Either way, he will surely make things worse.
And isn’t it rather “condescending” to older people who need a lift to assume that they have no opinions or agency on this issue?
Have you asked each one what they feel? If everyone says they hate scary elevators, then the option is for them or you (plural) to suggest an alternative. Another nice person with a car should come up, in which case the needy passenger is encouraged to tell Mr. Speedy, “You’ve been nice driving so far, but honestly, you’re going too fast for me.”
Choose the simple option.
Silence is the best way to deal with a sulk!
Dear bel
My husband and I have been married for 55 years and during that time we have had the same problem over and over again.
I’ll say or do something that upsets him and he’ll just stop talking to me for a day or so. Then, when he’s “over it,” he’ll start talking to me again as if nothing happened. He doesn’t tell me what the problem is and says we should forget about it and move on.
I think it’s not fair to punish me when I don’t know what I’m accused of (even criminals are told the crime they’ve committed). But when I say I want to know what I’ve done, he says I’m dragging it out and I should let it go.
Am I being unreasonable in wanting to know, or is your attitude better and I should just “let it go”?
BEA
Bel Mooney responds: How I dislike a sulker! My late father had this tendency, so I know it’s no joke when the atmosphere is poisoned.
My poor mother often had reason on her side, but sometimes I knew I had been deliberately upsetting him. She knew exactly which buttons to press. Such are the complexities of marriage, it can be one of the toughest endurance tests any of us has to face.
So here’s the thing. I find it pretty hard to believe that after 55 years of marriage you have no idea what you’ve “said or done to upset him.” Can it really be true? Don’t you have the slightest idea what caused his elongated face? And could it be that when you interrogate him, you’re simply giving him a “result” that he secretly intended? His silent treatment took effect. Victory!
I think it’s more effective to act as if nothing happened. After all, silence can be golden and endless autopsies leaden. Personally, I would just smile and relax, because everything will end soon, like life itself.
