Surviving Holiday Dread

Early this morning we turned our clocks back for reasons that no longer seem applicable, but many of us are about to return to behaviors and states of mind that no longer serve us so that we can survive the season of politics and holidays. How else are we supposed to cope with expectations of civility that are seldom fulfilled? Not everyone has the luxury of escape from familial responsibilities and work obligations, and we really should execute our duty of voting....but can we endure without permanent brain damage?

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The weather is against us, too, a physical cold that amplifies our emotional distress, and adds to the difficulties of negotiating the season in terms of travel and personal safety. We bundle up and take precautions driving, but traffic jams, crowded airports, and delayed flights make the horse-drawn carriages of yesteryear seem like a downright viable alternative if not romantic and nostalgic. We have put our extended families and in-laws at more than arm's length for a reason, and now this is the price we pay for the one or two times each year we choose to acknowledge them in person.

Congratulations to you if you have a truly loving and supportive family, a dream job, are comfortably affluent, with no addictions, and are in perfect physical and mental health. Most of us are not so fortunate, and while we have no animosity towards those doing better, we wish that you had a better understanding of our realities. We wish you had more empathy.

Were it up to me, we might be holding elections in the summer, by mail, so that politics were not so near the top of our thoughts, fueling dinner table diatribes during Thanksgiving and Christmas. Alas, they are this Tuesday, and if we must get ourselves to a polling place we have to figure out how to do so between the hours of our employment, the kids' scholastic programs, and a myriad of other chores and errands. The physical process of voting is daunting, and we haven't had time to research the issues and candidates. All of this adds to the guilt we already feel about failing in our civic engagement, and reminds us of grandpa who is stuck in a reactionary mindset that has no room for a changing social landscape. Surely you will come to blows the next time you see each other.

Depending on the outcome of the elections, we are either seeing a glimmer of hope, or plunging further into despair as the holidays fast approach. What a perfect storm, eh? Speaking of which, there is probably a Nor'easter on the way, just for good measure. Now we are reaching for another cocktail, another cigarette, or both, or something worse. We are no longer looking forward to the "vacation" to see the family, and are quite possibly fantasizing about alternative plans for Vegas or the Caribbean, minus any relatives at all, including our spouse and children. This is normal, if not unfortunate. Fantasies of fleeing are fine and healthy, it is carrying them out that is damaging. Know the difference.

What you may need to do is make a preemptive strike against depression and anxiety via a twelve-step group, a psychologist, or a supportive group in your church. Daily life is not kind to societal outcasts, and this time of year is harder still. Christians in particular would do well to remember that and at least ease off the rhetoric a bit. Compassion has to come without the strings of conversion attached to it. Seek first to understand, strive to accept rather than tolerate.

We will still likely have to deal with people who push our buttons, though, so what do we do? Avoidance is underrated if it means removing yourself from toxic situations and toxic people. You should have zero tolerance for physical, emotional, or financial abuse. Get away, stay away, or insist that your family share meals and time with another family, or at a public gathering. The "neutral field" approach can be highly effective at disarming what would otherwise be a volatile circumstance. We are all on our best behavior among people we feel we need to impress, or uphold an already high opinion they have for us.

Separate your personal objections to religion and politics from friends and family who might hold opposing positions. Good people are well worth your time, love, and investment, and good people come from all segments of the socio-economic-religious-political-ethnic spectra. Cultivating empathy should be the primary goal in our relationships with others. Listening is always good. Keeping your opinions to yourself sometimes helps, but do politely articulate your own perspectives if you need reminding of your own self-worth. I am a firm believer in the idea that stating your values, your truths, out loud, does wonders for self-esteem and confidence....as long as you are being honest, and keep an open yet critical mind.

Ask others to be honest in their assessment of the origins of their stance on any given hot topic. It is obviously personal to them, so why is that? Assure them there is no shame in being forthright, and defend them from ridicule if that is the unfortunate turn a discussion takes. You can disagree without bullying.

Good luck to you in the coming months. We wish you peace and prosperity, sincerely, and relief from whatever burdens you carry. Please share your skills, tips, and tricks for making it through the holidays with minimal pain. We are all ears.

Parents These Days

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There was a time that I thought I hated dogs. Then I realized that what I really don't like are some dog owners. I am beginning to think the same about children. Kids these days? No, more like parents these days.

Earlier this evening I had an exchange with a neighbor whose children, and their friend were running around outside our townhouse complex shrieking and screaming. This happens almost every day, and some days I am less tolerant than others. I opened my front door and said "Can you please stop shrieking?" It was then I noticed a father figure on the porch of a unit in an opposite building. He said "They're kids. It is before ten o'clock [PM], so no, I won't tell them to be quiet."

I closed the door, unable to think of a retort, and worried that the confrontation could escalate. A short while later our doorbell rang, and after a short debate with my wife, went down to answer. The young father was walking away when I opened the door, but returned to give me a piece of his mind. He had a cigarette in one hand and gestured with the other. At least he looked me in the eye while making excuses for why he let his children run around playing loudly.

"The outdoors is where kids are supposed to let out their energy," he explained. "Kids are supposed to be quiet indoors." Ah, I see, the old children should be seen and not heard in his house, but out in public there is a different standard. "Why don't you take them to a park?" I asked. I cannot recall his answer for that. It was something like "Why should I?" "I pay rent here, same as you" he stated, as if that gave him the right for his family to behave any way they see fit. "Telling my kids to be quiet? I'm not cool with that," he went on. "I'm not cool with not having my opinion respected" I replied, more or less.

Our townhouse buildings are two stories tall, and arranged with only a sidewalk and very narrow strips of lawn on either side. I explained that sound is amplified by that kind of close architecture. He was not impressed and told me to close my windows. I refrained from giving the obvious answer, which is that this is impractical when the temperature is well over 80° Fahrenheit. Despite insulation, it still gets stifling if we don't have the windows open and a fan or two going. Further, our buildings are not soundproof, so closing the windows at most muffles outside noise.

What I really object to, of course, is that this gentleman, and I use the word loosely for this twenty-five year old father, has no respect for others and no interest in teaching his kids to be respectful, either. He said I could file a noise complaint against him, like his other neighbors had apparently done, and I told him that I would rather not have an antagonistic relationship with my neighbors. He ended our conversation by saying that it was "like talking to a brick wall, then," and I muttered "same here, apparently" as I turned and closed the door," perfectly appalled by his utter disregard for his neighbors. Now I live a bit more fearfully not knowing whether he has weapons he is willing to use, or a mind that dwells on retribution and aggressive tactics.

So, kids will be kids, you say. That is what irresponsible parents say. He probably had a permissive or ill-equipped father himself, and he knows no other way. Neither does he want to bother learning proper parenting skills. I have little tolerance for that. I do not like women with "toy" dogs they pamper and carry around in their purse to enhance their snobbish and snooty personality. Neither do I like macho men with large, aggressive canines that reflect their own hostile ego and warped sense of masculinity.

I have decided I also do not like parents who raise spoiled brats with an undo sense of entitlement; and parents who abdicate their role in teaching their children how to be grown-ups, so that when they come of age they have proper respect for others, and not so self-centered and uncaring as to become a drain on society instead of a force for good will. I remember when parents were embarrassed by their child's bad behavior because it reflected badly on them. Now they defend their kid's bad behavior. You know that village that it takes to raise a child? I am that village, and I will call you out.

Budgets

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Most talk of budgets is centered on government appropriations, program cuts, and other headline-making, multi-million dollar decisions made by elected officials. How much thought goes into our own personal budgeting? Are we guilty of saying to ourselves that if deficits and debt are ok for government, then overspending should be acceptable on a personal level? I find my own situation the opposite of that. I do not have a spending problem, I have an earning problem.

There is simply very little I am capable of doing, or interested in doing, that could generate a consistent income. More to the point, I no longer have tolerance for most employers, workplace politics, and being a cog that generates wealth for executives and company shareholders instead of a more equitable division of profits. Oh, I am guilty of instigating workplace drama myself. There may even be former coworkers and supervisors reading this who can attest to my being temperamental, seeking romantic relationships with coworkers, and not always completing tasks in my job description.

At least my contempt for most businesses is matched by my lack of enthusiasm for spending. There is simply very little I am interested in purchasing in the way of material goods. Not that I don't have my weaknesses. My spouse can vouch for the fact that tasty-but-not-always-healthy food and beverages are near the top of my priority list when it comes to disposable income. Good thing alcohol is so expensive, or I'd be drinking daily. Maybe hourly. On a really bad day it might be all I would do. The older I get, though, the less "things" I find I need or want. In fact, I would love to liquidate most of my possessions in favor of more money to travel.

One of my greatest disappointments is that virtually none of my belongings has any appeal to anyone else. My parents got me the Matchbox® toy cars as a kid, not the Hot Wheels™, for example. I have a few autographs, but they are from the era when sports stars and Hollywood celebrities would personalize them instead of offering a generic signature. That's apparently a bad thing that diminishes their value considerably. I put a few of my old natural history books up for sale on a Facebook group and got exactly zero responses. I don't mind donating things, but that usually isn't even enough to warrant itemizing my federal tax return. If charity begins at home, then we could use a little help here, IRS.

Collectively, we like to create the illusion that we are doing better financially than we really are. I've written about this before, the metamorphosis of the Middle Class into the Debt Class. We are taught that we need to "keep up with the Joneses," and not to complain, or have envy or jealousy over the success of others. Back in the day, that might have been true, and we could advance ourselves at least incrementally up the ladder of affluence. Today, corporations and Congress are simply removing the rungs, right out from under where we are currently perched. They are also cutting holes in the safety net beneath the ladder while telling us it is all for our own good, that we will somehow be better off. Baloney.

Back to your budget. The first thing to do is stop judging yourself by your material assets. Friends judging you that way? Get new friends. You can start with me. You know what is important, and the overwhelming majority of it you cannot find in a store or online. It is the fabric of family, community, and the other organisms we share the land, water, and atmosphere with. All else is icing, and arguably even unnecessary. There. Doesn't that make the cable or satellite service a little easier to part with? Maybe it even makes the decision to strike out on your own business venture a more plausible possibility. Go for it.

The Life Sentence of an Unhappy Childhood

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The other night I stumbled upon the movie White Oleander airing on television, near its beginning. I cannot say I like films like this, but I admire the writers, directors, cast, and crew willing to take on the subject of psychological cruelty, and the agony of undoing the hell that parent-child relationships can often bring. The ramifications of one's upbringing are profound, and so variable in their outcome that stereotypes are useless.

Children are unable to stand up for their own right to peace, quiet, dignity, and love that does not come out of parental selfishness. The result is denial of their situation, and latent hostility towards others. By the time they are teenagers "acting out," or twenty-somethings bobbing and drifting in the debris of their past, the damage is done. When strangers, or even friends, ask what happened, or how did you get here, your response is to ignore them or change the subject. Then you hit thirty-ish and you begin to recall the past with the clarity of an unsubstantiated alibi. After all, up until now you had been conditioned to believe that you murdered your own childhood. Suddenly you cannot help but tell your story. You become the crusader, but you still couch your own pain in a "desire to help others." As the battles dwindle and the war wanes, you are left with a vacancy unfilled, and go back to the flat-line flow that is your life, punctuated here and there with good times and devastating bouts of depression, for your remaining days....or until your parents free you by their own passing.

This perpetuated, and perpetual, guilt, vindictiveness, distrust, and dishonesty is the legacy of generations upon generations of parents ill-equipped to raise a healthy child because they were not brought up in a sane environment. The coping skills of blame, shame, withholding of love and affection, infliction of punishment, and the examples of smoking, alcoholism, and other behaviors are handed down time after time after time.

We have been instructed to believe that the hallmarks of a broken childhood are reflected in the adult child through substance abuse, and indeed the twelve-step programs and anonymous groups can be places to begin silencing the echoes of the parental recordings playing endlessly in your mind. You finally begin to see the "buttons" and start the long process of rewiring or disconnecting them. You react with a little less intensity when one of them is pushed.

Still, social dysfunction, in all its many forms, is the overwhelming result of following the patterns set forth like the ruts from wagon wheels lifetimes previous. Maybe you never have an enduring, loving relationship with someone else. Maybe, like me, you become unemployable, because you see the social structure of the workplace for what it is: every employee's attempt to make up for their childhood of want, woe, and war....and that includes yourself if you are not wary, or willing to expend the enormous amount of energy to just "deal." Lather, rinse, repeat.

Our childhood senses and minds lack the filters that come with maturity, and we accept everything our parents dole out as fact and reality, not the products of a disillusioned personality, itself the victim of its own trauma. There is no end to the insidious strategies invented to insure that a parent maintains control of their child. Surely the world would fly apart if the chain of child-rearing incompetence were ever to break. We cannot afford, hell, survive, the exposure of our flaws, nor properly articulate their origin. We were just kids when we learned how to parent.

At the end of White Oleander, the mother marches into a life sentence at a real brick-and-mortar prison. She finally relented from pressuring her daughter into testifying, thereby setting her offspring free from the prison she created in the girl's mind. Rarely is it that easy, that metaphorical, that decisive. Most of us still spend our days methodically sawing through the bars with mental files, provided we even recognize the cell that we are living in.