Dear Readers, please feel free to ignore this. I just needed to scream and pull my hair in frustration. If, however, you do decide to read this and you have advice, I'm all ears...
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WTF is wrong with people? Seriously! Having heard from The Cougar (formerly known as Bestie #2) a total of three times in the month of November -- once at First Friday Family Dinner, once the weekend before Thanksgiving wondering what "we" were doing for the holiday (in the past this has meant "Why don't you plan everything and make most of the food and host it at your house and just tell me what dish or two to bring"), and once (in a message) a few days before the holiday expressing dismay over my communicated decision to celebrate the holiday alone -- I now get a lengthy e-mail as if no time has gone by and there are no issues. Amazing. The email was newsy -- what the parents and grandparents are up to, how she spent the Thanksgiving holiday, how she has to reapply to the graduate program because it's been a year and a half since she took a class -- and included a question: "By the way, are you still holding first Friday dinners? I wasn't sure since you haven't sent out any reminders (not that I have a Facebook page in order to respond) for a couple months." Really?? The dinners you've attended without fail for nearly a year and a half (since they started), the last of which was on the last first Friday of the month, those dinners? Am I still...?!?!?
Perhaps this is a legitimate question. I was, after all, considering calling off family dinners for the foreseeable future. After some discussion with Honey I decided not to do that but, instead, just not have much contact with family the rest of each month. I think it's a fair compromise and good for my mental health. And so perhaps this was just a legitimate effort to see if dinner was still on.
But I am very frustrated. I do not consider us friends any more, although I am always friendly and polite. Yet she's always had everything handed to her, everything smoothed over, life made easy. She chooses friends and when to keep the and for how long and never puts forth effort into a friendship, knowing that the others in the relationship will take care of it for her. So I stop...and she doesn't make an effort to reach out because she's never had to do that. Does she still think we're best friends?
On the one hand I want to just confront the issue and be done. Yet I hesitate because she is currently exhibiting the behaviors and maturity of a 15 year old -- and as we all know, age 15 is the worst age: they think they know everything and absolutely refuse to listen to anyone. I don't want to initiate a conversation because I believe she would be more receptive to listening if she initiates -- the same as teenagers are more willing to take the advice of a teacher or mentor if they ask for that opinion or advice.
This whole situation is frustrating. Just when I think "Well, at least I don't have to deal with it anymore" something pops up -- like an e-mail that says nothing and yet says everything.
Showing posts with label Anger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anger. Show all posts
Friday, December 2, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
In or Out
Raising a teenager is not an easy task. It is infinitely more difficult if the teenager joins a household at age 16, has the manners of a wolf pack, distrust and abandonment issues from a less than ideal childhood, and if the person doing the raising is actually a much older sister who seems a bit more like a step-mother than anything else. Perhaps it is the stress from this situation that is causing my aching bones and lack of sleep.
Two weeks ago Honey and I had a sit-down conversation with The Teenager. If he wants to live here, we have expectations. After a discussion and an agreement, I felt better. And then reality struck. I am caught wondering if The Teenager wants to be here or not. He could do the same thing that most of his siblings have done -- leave home at 15 or 16, struggle on his own for a number of years and finally find a path (or not find anything and still be a bit aimless at 25). Obviously I don't want that for him, but I can't make him choose a better path.
The Teenager is extremely rude all the time. Well, I shouldn't say that. His attitude has improved somewhat, but it is not anywhere close to acceptable. Last night was, perhaps, Honey's last straw. We sat down at the table for our once-a-week-everyone-eats-together-and-talks-like-adults dinner. The Teenager made it very clear that he did not want to be there at all, that having to sit at a table for 30 minutes was pure torture. He knows the reasoning behind the dinner and he agreed to participate as a member of this household...but apparently forgot that part of the agreement was so behave like an adult, which means no rudeness at the dinner table. I gave The Teenager his space and then went to talk with him later about the behavior. Needless to say, he believes he has a right to be rude because other people are. He has no empathy and it drives me nuts. (Let me pause to say I know that ability develops later in life, especially for boys, because of the way their brains develop and I know he buries any sense of empathy because he sees it as a sign of weakness and has some issues from growing up -- knowing those things does not, however, make this any easier.) Honey told him that being rude -- especially rude to me, since I work so hard to take care of this boy -- is completely unacceptable so he can shape up or get out. Honey is one of the few people The Teenager actually respects -- and the only person The Teenager has voluntarily apologized to -- so this may make a difference. But I don't know.
This is much different than dealing with difficult kids in a classroom. I am used to kids kicking and screaming and being a pain for several weeks until I win them over and then they are my kids for life. Of course I was not their mother, so that probably makes all the difference in the world. I can handle those kids. What makes this different? And why do I tolerate verbal abuse from this teenager that I would never tolerate in a classroom? Honey asked these questions and more. I don't have all the answers.
One answer: I don't like feeling like a failure. On my bad days, my cranky days, my depressed days I feel that way too often. And sadly, I think that's the way The Teenager views me. I am a failure in his mind because I have all of this education but no job. He doesn't see the to-do list that is a mile long every day, doesn't notice that I am constantly moving, always busy, and that the things that I do are meant to keep this house and family running. For a while, I was upset about this. Then I realized that he doesn't know what I do unless I tell him, so I've made a point of talking about what I do and why, about showing and telling what happens in a job search, about making the point of household chores clear. (This may or may not make a dent in the psyche of a teenage boy.)
None of this addresses my real concern: what is going to happen next? Honey is ready to say this Grand Experiment is not working and pull the plug, although we've agreed to give it a couple weeks. This thought is very hard for me. I am willing to do the work to raise a teenager and hope that it sets him on a better path for life, but I can't force him to make good decisions. And if he leaves to do his own thing I think that I'll be so disappointed and angry at my upbringing and family that led to this mess that I won't want to see anyone for a while...or ever. I wanted to give this boy a chance, but I know he has to want it for himself. And I am afraid that getting to him at 16 is just too late.
Two weeks ago Honey and I had a sit-down conversation with The Teenager. If he wants to live here, we have expectations. After a discussion and an agreement, I felt better. And then reality struck. I am caught wondering if The Teenager wants to be here or not. He could do the same thing that most of his siblings have done -- leave home at 15 or 16, struggle on his own for a number of years and finally find a path (or not find anything and still be a bit aimless at 25). Obviously I don't want that for him, but I can't make him choose a better path.
The Teenager is extremely rude all the time. Well, I shouldn't say that. His attitude has improved somewhat, but it is not anywhere close to acceptable. Last night was, perhaps, Honey's last straw. We sat down at the table for our once-a-week-everyone-eats-together-and-talks-like-adults dinner. The Teenager made it very clear that he did not want to be there at all, that having to sit at a table for 30 minutes was pure torture. He knows the reasoning behind the dinner and he agreed to participate as a member of this household...but apparently forgot that part of the agreement was so behave like an adult, which means no rudeness at the dinner table. I gave The Teenager his space and then went to talk with him later about the behavior. Needless to say, he believes he has a right to be rude because other people are. He has no empathy and it drives me nuts. (Let me pause to say I know that ability develops later in life, especially for boys, because of the way their brains develop and I know he buries any sense of empathy because he sees it as a sign of weakness and has some issues from growing up -- knowing those things does not, however, make this any easier.) Honey told him that being rude -- especially rude to me, since I work so hard to take care of this boy -- is completely unacceptable so he can shape up or get out. Honey is one of the few people The Teenager actually respects -- and the only person The Teenager has voluntarily apologized to -- so this may make a difference. But I don't know.
This is much different than dealing with difficult kids in a classroom. I am used to kids kicking and screaming and being a pain for several weeks until I win them over and then they are my kids for life. Of course I was not their mother, so that probably makes all the difference in the world. I can handle those kids. What makes this different? And why do I tolerate verbal abuse from this teenager that I would never tolerate in a classroom? Honey asked these questions and more. I don't have all the answers.
One answer: I don't like feeling like a failure. On my bad days, my cranky days, my depressed days I feel that way too often. And sadly, I think that's the way The Teenager views me. I am a failure in his mind because I have all of this education but no job. He doesn't see the to-do list that is a mile long every day, doesn't notice that I am constantly moving, always busy, and that the things that I do are meant to keep this house and family running. For a while, I was upset about this. Then I realized that he doesn't know what I do unless I tell him, so I've made a point of talking about what I do and why, about showing and telling what happens in a job search, about making the point of household chores clear. (This may or may not make a dent in the psyche of a teenage boy.)
None of this addresses my real concern: what is going to happen next? Honey is ready to say this Grand Experiment is not working and pull the plug, although we've agreed to give it a couple weeks. This thought is very hard for me. I am willing to do the work to raise a teenager and hope that it sets him on a better path for life, but I can't force him to make good decisions. And if he leaves to do his own thing I think that I'll be so disappointed and angry at my upbringing and family that led to this mess that I won't want to see anyone for a while...or ever. I wanted to give this boy a chance, but I know he has to want it for himself. And I am afraid that getting to him at 16 is just too late.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Sometimes a Tuesday is more frustrating than a Monday
I don't mind Mondays. Aside from the fact that they signal the beginning of the work week, they're not too bad. I tend to feel productive, and although I cannot see the light at the end of the week's tunnel yet, feeling productive is very satisfactory to me, so it's good. Tuesday, however, is not that way.
Tuesdays are, perhaps, my least favorite days. They are not at the start of a work week, so there's nothing new about them. They are not Hump Day or Thursday, which is pretty close to Friday, which is an awesome day because it means that in the evening I can watch a movie, stay up late, and wake up knowing it's a Saturday and I have a day of craft and house and yard projects ahead of me. Yes, Tuesdays pretty much suck.
Normally I have a better attitude, but today was a very frustrating day. It started early and then went downhill. The dress I grabbed for work ended up being too short (a hazard when one works in education -- the modesty quotient is a bit higher than other professional careers), so I was later than I wanted to be getting out of the house because I had to find a different outfit. The person I was meeting with forgot that we'd had a meeting scheduled, but it ended up working out. I was stuck behind old people driving, making the normally 45-minute trip even longer. I went to a thrift store hoping to pop in and find some inspiration and all I found was outrageously-priced bric-brac and creepy people who followed me around the store, staring at me. Then I stopped in at Joann's to get 1.5 yards of fabric. After waiting for 20 minutes for someone to help me, I finally left without the fabric. The art project I started when I got home turned out to be a two-person job (more on that later), so I had to wait until Honey got home. The vacuum kept trying to break as I used it. And to top it off I really, really wanted junk food but Guilt Monster told me I was too fat and hadn't exercised enough.
These things don't address everything in the day (like trying to go through my late Grandmother's paperwork & misc. things she left for me, trying to deal with Crazymaker, or realizing too many deadlines are crashing together at work), but it gives a partial view into my day. It was definitely a Tuesday. Not the best day.
I decided to sit down and write "morning pages" a bit, just in the afternoon, to vent some of my frustration. This works well! In fact, I released most of the frustration through writing (at least for a time, until I had to deal with Crazymaker again). I can highly recommend morning pages.
And I was able to at least start on two projects. We'll see what happens tomorrow. I want to try and get at least one done and if I do, I'll post pictures.
Thank you for listening to the rant. I appreciate it. And now you know why I don't like Tuesdays.
Tuesdays are, perhaps, my least favorite days. They are not at the start of a work week, so there's nothing new about them. They are not Hump Day or Thursday, which is pretty close to Friday, which is an awesome day because it means that in the evening I can watch a movie, stay up late, and wake up knowing it's a Saturday and I have a day of craft and house and yard projects ahead of me. Yes, Tuesdays pretty much suck.
Normally I have a better attitude, but today was a very frustrating day. It started early and then went downhill. The dress I grabbed for work ended up being too short (a hazard when one works in education -- the modesty quotient is a bit higher than other professional careers), so I was later than I wanted to be getting out of the house because I had to find a different outfit. The person I was meeting with forgot that we'd had a meeting scheduled, but it ended up working out. I was stuck behind old people driving, making the normally 45-minute trip even longer. I went to a thrift store hoping to pop in and find some inspiration and all I found was outrageously-priced bric-brac and creepy people who followed me around the store, staring at me. Then I stopped in at Joann's to get 1.5 yards of fabric. After waiting for 20 minutes for someone to help me, I finally left without the fabric. The art project I started when I got home turned out to be a two-person job (more on that later), so I had to wait until Honey got home. The vacuum kept trying to break as I used it. And to top it off I really, really wanted junk food but Guilt Monster told me I was too fat and hadn't exercised enough.
These things don't address everything in the day (like trying to go through my late Grandmother's paperwork & misc. things she left for me, trying to deal with Crazymaker, or realizing too many deadlines are crashing together at work), but it gives a partial view into my day. It was definitely a Tuesday. Not the best day.
I decided to sit down and write "morning pages" a bit, just in the afternoon, to vent some of my frustration. This works well! In fact, I released most of the frustration through writing (at least for a time, until I had to deal with Crazymaker again). I can highly recommend morning pages.
And I was able to at least start on two projects. We'll see what happens tomorrow. I want to try and get at least one done and if I do, I'll post pictures.
Thank you for listening to the rant. I appreciate it. And now you know why I don't like Tuesdays.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Week Three: Anger, Synchronicity, and a Sense of Power
Tonight I finally had a chance to go through chapter three in The Artist's Way. I love the way that Julia Cameron explains the usefulness of anger. Growing up I associated anger with all of the things I didn't want in my life: mean people, yelling, hurt, hypocrites, and about three tons of guilt. I hated anger and I was a very angry person (albeit underneath the surface), which meant that my Guilt Monster showed up repeatedly. I told my monster to go away, but he knew he didn't have to listen. I'd get angry soon enough and then I would feel guilty for being angry while my Guilt Monster just smirked. As I became an adult, my outbursts of anger were under control. I was a more reasonable person, a calmer person, and I didn't feel quite so guilty because I wasn't "angry," I was frustrated and frustration was totally acceptable. This went on for years until recently I started feeling angry again. Why? I asked myself. What is the bigger picture here? Those questions and the answers that I have experienced perhaps explain why the explanation of anger in this chapter resonates with me.
Anger, Cameron says, is a tool: we use it to spur ourselves into action. It shows us boundaries, points in new directions, and can be used as a guide. Thinking back over what causes me to be angry (more than just frustrated -- and yes, there are times when I'm legitimately just frustrated and not covering for some deeper anger), most of the causes of my anger are when I see people being abused, mistreated, manipulated in some way: few things get me upset like issues of social justice, love, compassion, and equality. Aha! I thought to myself, So that's what's meant by "righteous anger"! I get it! I feel like if that were the entire message in the chapter it would be enough. But there's more!
Just the other day I commented to a friend about how interesting it is that a number of us -- all independently of one another -- are focusing on being intentional this year. It was as if the world was lining up and telling us I want you to start living with intention. Be in the moment. Enjoy life and be reflective. It's just one example of the synchronicity I see in life. In my younger days I called it God. Then I called it coincidence. Now I don't know what term to use, but I have seen -- in my own life and the lives of others -- that when one is on a pathway of intentionality or creative recovery then serendipitous things just seem to happen. That is one of the reasons why I am so excited about this Year of Intention and working through The Artist's Way trilogy: I want to see what is in store for this year.
Anger, Cameron says, is a tool: we use it to spur ourselves into action. It shows us boundaries, points in new directions, and can be used as a guide. Thinking back over what causes me to be angry (more than just frustrated -- and yes, there are times when I'm legitimately just frustrated and not covering for some deeper anger), most of the causes of my anger are when I see people being abused, mistreated, manipulated in some way: few things get me upset like issues of social justice, love, compassion, and equality. Aha! I thought to myself, So that's what's meant by "righteous anger"! I get it! I feel like if that were the entire message in the chapter it would be enough. But there's more!
Just the other day I commented to a friend about how interesting it is that a number of us -- all independently of one another -- are focusing on being intentional this year. It was as if the world was lining up and telling us I want you to start living with intention. Be in the moment. Enjoy life and be reflective. It's just one example of the synchronicity I see in life. In my younger days I called it God. Then I called it coincidence. Now I don't know what term to use, but I have seen -- in my own life and the lives of others -- that when one is on a pathway of intentionality or creative recovery then serendipitous things just seem to happen. That is one of the reasons why I am so excited about this Year of Intention and working through The Artist's Way trilogy: I want to see what is in store for this year.
"Chance is always powerful. Let your hook be always cast; in the pool where you lease expect it, there will be a fish." -- Ovid
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