So What, Who Cares? My Therapist Is Making Me Hate My Family!

Dear Erin:

My therapist is making me hate my family, and resent them for all the things I don't have (read: qualities, not possessions). She wants my mom to come to a session with me. That sounds unbelievably painful in the sense that I will have to listen to her martyr sob story.   I love this therapist and don't know what I would do without her.  But is this OK?  Is putting me through a painful session with my mother -- and turning me against them -- a good idea for someone trying to help me?

Signed,

Family Issues

Dear Family Issues:

There’s an old saying about therapy: You spend the first five years talking about how everyone disappointed you, and the next five years talking about how you disappointed everyone else.  I can’t remember where I heard that saying. I probably stole it from my husband, from whom I get most of my best quips.  Yet I think this quip has the advantage of being not only clever, but true -- at least, in a metaphorical sense.    And as a motto for dealing with family issues, it may be helpful for you to keep it in mind.

Therapy is painful.  Conventional talk therapy is easily the second most painful thing I’ve ever experienced.  It ranks far behind the first most painful thing, which was the hospitalization of my infant children.  But it comes out well ahead of the third thing: natural childbirth.  Emotional pain is different than physical pain, of course.  It can be more entangled, deeper, and more enduring.  But I would gladly sign up for nine more hours of natural childbirth than nine more years of couch talk.   That is true even if this hypothetical birth once again involved Dr. Silverstein, who walked over to my face during a particularly hard contraction and screamed at me to get my shit together.   Or maybe not.  Whatever.  That’s how I remember it.

One thing that makes therapy so painful is that it forces us to think about how our parents – the people who were supposed to love us unconditionally – disappointed us.   And not just to think about that disappointment, but feel it.   It doesn’t help much to know that nobody is unique in this disappointment.  Because nobody is perfect.  And some people are more imperfect than others.  But unconditional love from even slightly imperfect people can still feel disappointing and painful to a child.   And when we start to trace our current shortcomings back to our earliest relationships and formative experiences, it’s impossible not to get very, very angry at the people who were supposed to keep the pain away.  

In some cases, "five years" won’t actually be enough.  Some family problems are too severe.  Some adult failures are too unforgivable.  Some love is so conditional – and the disappointments so profound -- that they leave people with holes in their personalities that may never go away.   But ideally, most people will spend enough time in therapy facing down the pain of childhood disappointment that they eventually get to another place.   In that place – where the emotional wounds are no longer so raw, and the inner child has been sort of adopted by the adult self --  you can start to move forward with an emotional lightness.  In that place, you can start to address your shortcomings in a more positive, productive way.  That second period of “five years” is about realizing how your disappointed inner child has been a buzzkill for your spouse, a burden for your friends, or an obstacle to your own aspirations.

If you like your therapist, then I think you should trust her.   Facing your feelings in the same room with your mom will be painful. OMG, will it be painful!   It is highly likely that she will double down on everything you hate about her, and make you feel small and scared and exhausted all over again.  It's conceivable that she will set you back in emotional progress for a while.   Or maybe she’ll surprise you.  But either way, if your mom is willing to do it, then I say: why not?  Facing your feelings about her is a bridge you have to cross, anyway.  Her participation will just get you across that bridge faster.   Nobody can guarantee that your relationship will become stronger in the end.  Nobody can promise that she will change.  But the beauty of therapy is this: That’s not the point!   By facing your inner child, you’ll stop caring as much if your family is disappointing you.   You’ll stop reacting to their failures and imperfections so intensely.  Even if it’s more painful at first, won’t that place be better than the sad, disappointed, lacking, hating place you’re sitting in right now?  

The world is full of disappointment.  Getting emotionally healthier isn’t going to change that fact.  It’s simply going to help you move past your disappointment more effectively -- so you aren’t wallowing in it, or inflicting it on other people.   I’m not a therapist.  But I think you’re on the right track.  And if I were your mother, I’d be very proud of you for that.

So What, Who Cares? : Breaking Up with A Friend (Fifth Grade Version)

Dear Erin,

My 11-year-old son has a friend who used to go to his school, a few years ago.  Not only did he switch schools, but his family moved farther away and still this kid calls our house nearly every weekend for a play date.  The problem is that my son does not enjoy playing with this child at all.  Although smart and articulate, he can also be loud, obnoxious, rude, and will often not listen when asked to stop any of his annoying behaviors.  His parents like to joke around about their son's ADHD (I'm no expert, but if there is a kid deserving of this label, it's him).  While I'll occasionally cave and set up a play date when he calls, I'm usually faced with the awkward task of making up an excuse so my son does not have to endure another unpleasant play date. In other words, I lie.  I tell him my son has a birthday party, family visiting, a class to go to, he doesn't feel well, etc.  I lie to let him down easy because his disappointment is palpable.  I also lie so that my son doesn't have to.  I feel like I'm setting a bad example.  I've tried screening his calls.  But then he will literally call every 10 minutes until someone picks up (he is usually calling while unsupervised because his parents are doctors, one of them is working while the other is sleeping after a night shift).  I thought he would eventually lose interest and stop calling but the calls keep coming.  

How can I help my son break up with this lonely and frustrated child?

Yours,

ADHD Intolerant

Dear ADHD Intolerant:

So let me get this straight.  A kid who may or may not have an undiagnosed psychiatric disorder, and who your son doesn’t even like, calls your house every 10 minutes, nearly every weekend?  But you haven’t changed your number yet, or alternatively, ripped the phone out of the wall?    Actually, I’d say you’re pretty ADHD Tolerant.  

You’re certainly more tolerant than I am.  Granted, I’m the woman who once turned my terrace garden hose on the twenty somethings who were loudly partying on the rooftop of their brownstone next door.   I was postpartum.  Whatever.  It worked out.  It’s a lot harder than you might think to hit a rooftop with a stream of water from a garden house, twelve stories down.  Especially in a light breeze.  And the twenty somethings didn’t care, anyway.  They just turned up the music and kept right on dancing, excited to be cooled off by a refreshing magical rain shower.    

Perhaps you want me to tell you to stop being so tolerant.  Well, I’m not prepared to do that.   I do hear your worry -- that your little white lies are setting a bad example.  I get that.  Generally speaking, I’m a big proponent of directness and straight talk.   Lies and indirectness are unreliable and ineffective forms of adult communication.    But this is a child.  A pretty young child, at that, who may be emotionally disturbed.  Or fragile.  Or as you put it -- in kinder and less pathological terms -- just frustrated and lonely.

In another sense, of course, your white lies are also setting a good example.   They are showing your son that it’s important to be kind and generous, concerned and tolerant.   It’s worth telling him that as he gets older, he will need to learn how to speak directly to people he doesn’t like.  It’s also worth pointing out that you are lying to spare the child’s feelings, not to avoid your own inconvenience.   But at 11 years old, adult directness is not appropriate. And I think it would be too harsh, even for your son to come out and tell the kid the friendship is over.  God knows, he'll probably get enough of harsh rejection when he's older.    

That leaves one strategy: You need to be much more direct -- and effective -- with your white lies.   Right now, you’re plugging up one leak at a time.  The faucet is still dripping.  My advice is simply this: Tell the boy that your son can only have a play date every few months.  Say your son is very busy with activities, trying to make more time for other friends, or has to spend more time with his grandparents.    If the boy -- or whoever is supposed to be watching him while he digitally water boards you over your phone line -- would like to pick a date, you’d be happy to set it up.  For several months from now.   But then, when you schedule it, make it clear he shouldn’t call again before that date.   You get a lot of calls.  You get tired of answering it.  And unfortunately, your son is booked solid until July.

Ideally, this will solve a number of problems at once.  For the lonely kid, it will still give him something to look forward to.   It may even work like that anxiety therapy, where patients are only allowed to obsess in discrete blocks, for ten minutes at a time.  In other words, it may help him learn to control his feelings.  For you, it should mean fewer phone calls.   If it doesn’t, then you have cause to address his behavior more directly – though still in an impersonal, strictly logistical way -- with his parents.  

A new schedule will give your son more time to recover between play dates.   I realize this may not immediately solve the bigger problem.  This kid is the Brillo pad of playmates.   But over time, with better lying, this friendship will fade away.   I really believe that.  Eventually, the too-busy-to-parent parents will get divorced, or take new jobs.  Or the kid will switch schools, and find hobbies.  Maybe he’ll even get some therapy, more exercise, medication if that’s needed, and some other friends.   For his sake, I hope that happens.  And ADHD Tolerant, I know you do, too.   

Best of luck!

So What, Who Cares? Yikes, My Kids Are Learning About Sex on the Playground!

Dear Erin,

My daughter has been coming home from school with all sorts of information about the birds and the bees that she didn't get from us.  Eventually, we learned that one of her 2nd grade classmates has been "enlightening" the class with information that is at best exaggerated -- at worst, completely invented.  After complaints from parents, the teachers tried to intervene.  The child and his parents denied responsibility.  They claim their child doesn't know anything about sex to begin with as they "haven't had that conversation with him yet."  What can we do to protect our child and get this to stop?

Signed,

TMI

Dear TMI:

Kids say the darndest things.   Most of the time, their misguided utterances seem pretty harmless. Consider this jumble of misinformation that my kids brought home this year: 1) Taylor Swift has had 500 boyfriends,  2) North Korea is going to start a world war (and win),  3) Women can’t vote,  4) Guinea pigs are cannibals, and 5) Someone’s uncle is making a movie about their recess game.

When kids get stuff wrong, parents can usually just straighten them out.

My personal responses to those fact nuggets, for example, were pretty simple: 

1)Wrong.  2)Wrong.  3) Sexist and Wrong.  4) Maybe.  5) Um. No. Creepy.

What I can’t tell from your letter is if little Billy Birds and Bees is harmless, or outright offensive.  I mean, if the kid is going beyond bad facts – e.g. Taylor Swift is a sexual cannibal, or my uncle gave birth to a guinea pig – to details about human sexuality that are violent, graphic, or terribly age-inappropriate, then those parents were right to enlist the help of teachers.  In extreme cases, a school should probably respond with age-appropriate sanctions. 

Since you used the word protect, though, perhaps you don’t find the kid so harmless.  Perhaps it bothers your daughter to hear this graphic dialogue.  If the other parents are defensive, or in denial -- and the school refuses to challenge them -- parents like you are left to wonder how you can stop the sex, lies, and inaccuracy on your own.

I assume you’ve already told your daughter that this lad is an unreliable informant.  We can’t control the crazy of other parents, the crazy of their kids, or the inaction of authorities.  But we can exert some control over our children’s personal filters.  We can urge our children to report unsolicited rumors to us, then help them fact check, in the privacy of our own homes.  Will that be enough for you?  Maybe.  Perhaps Billy just has a mysterious and untreated hormone imbalance.  Once he stops eating soy, maybe he’ll stop acting out, and start having whatever conversation it is, that his parents think they've already had.

Or maybe that won’t be enough.  Maybe his chatty ways are still bothering your daughter, or disrupting her education, or presenting her with concepts she isn't old enough to filter.   In that case, I can offer this potentially relevant story.

Many years ago, I took a job in an office, and was placed on a team with several men who were predisposed to sexual banter.  They talked about their sex lives.  They asked about mine. They commented on my looks.   I tried to make it clear that, uh, I was busy working.  A few months into this job, I couldn’t take it anymore.  I told my supervisor that they were disrupting my ability to do my job. 

My supervisor told me that legally, I could file a complaint.  I could escalate it through "proper channels."   Practically, though, this wasn’t likely to accomplish much.  My colleagues might be reprimanded.  I’d have to confront them more publicly.  And since I still might have to work with them, this might be a bad outcome. For me.   Instead, he suggested I simply ask them to stop.   I’ve tried that, I protested.   Try it again, he said.  This time, don’t smile.  Don’t sound friendly.  Look them in the eyes.  Tell them you need it to stop.  Immediately.

And you know, it was great advice.  I think of myself as a fairly brazen chick.  But really, I hadn’t even realized how much I undermined my own message – in a stereotypically female way, I suppose -- through facial expressions, verbal cues, and body language.  Ultimately, was I a bad feminist for failing to escalate through proper channels?  I don’t know.  Maybe.  In any case, that's not the issue we're debating here.  But more to the point, it totally worked!  It didn’t force a big legal thing.  Or make anyone defensive.  It just delivered the best outcome.

I don’t know how relevant this story is to your conundrum.  I just know that oftentimes, the proper channels can’t protect us. Or our kids.  If ignoring, and correcting, and legally escalating hasn’t fixed the problem to your satisfaction, maybe it’s time to empower your daughter to just let Billy have it.  To tell him she’s wise to his lies.  That his teaching style isn’t working for her.   That she’s dropping his class.   Shut the kid down.

It’s nice to be nice.  Especially on the playground.  But sometimes the best outcome is to stop getting along, and start speaking the truth to crazy.   Good luck.