Look! A Repeating Theme. Most Likely to Repeat Again.

It strikes me that a lot of people spend a great deal of time trying to persuade others into doing things. Buy my product. Join my religion. Pick up my cause. Vote my way. Change your life. Change your mind. Change change change.

The majority of these people, at least the American ones, are loud, often annoying, repetitive, usually boring, and rarely effective.  How do I know they're not effective?  If they were, we wouldn't have a deeply divided culture.

Actually, the reason most of those trying to tell others what to do/but/believe/change aren't effective is because they lack a foundation in persuasive communication.  You can't convince someone to do something if you piss them off.  We've talked about that before.  You also can't convince someone to do something if they have to motivation to do it.

For instance, let's say you're trying to convince someone that abortion is wrong.  What do you do when they explain to you that they don't like people and despise every sound uttered by children and can think of absolutely no reason why there should be more? What if they simply will not accept that cells are people?  What if they just don't care?  How do you reach them?

As difficult as it is to persuade someone else, quite often we have an even more difficult time in convincing ourselves to do things.  Okay, maybe some people don't. The majority of us though, have a very hard time finding ways to be motivated about doing what is best for us . . . or what we assume is best for us.

I go through this a lot with weight loss.  I'm considering doing lap band, which is a drastic and life altering measure. I'm scared.  Not just scared of the surgery, but scared in general of losing weight. Or, worse, having the surgery and then failing to lose the weight. That would suck so badly.

So, in the meantime, I'm trying to prepare myself for this major life alteration. It's going to be hellish and most of the time, I'm not even sure I want to do it.

I'm sure that shocks, possibly even disgusts a lot of people, the idea that I am not even sure if I want to be not fat.  How could anyone NOT wish to be thinner? To many, that doesn't even seem possible.

Let me propose this to you though.  And it is the question that has always haunted me about the situation. Why? Why do you want to be all healthy and fit and trim? Why? Are the sacrifices, the deprivations, the work outs, all worth it? What do you get in exchange?  What makes the guilt and the anguish and the feelings of self loathing there when you choose to gain the pound and not lose it?

Should I be thin so I can live a long and healthy life? Ohhh, the fiction of this!  First of all, being thin doesn't mean you will be healthy any more than being fat means you will die of something related to the fat. It' not even more likely. All the studies done with any type of realism find that cancer and heart disease rates are higher, but not significantly so.  And even if they are? Who cares? Who wants to live a long time if it means you don't get to live the way you enjoy?

Should I lose weight so I can have a more active life?  My guess is if I wanted a more active life, I wouldn't be this heavy to begin with, because I would be off doing that active life thing.

Should I lose weight so I can be more socially acceptable to others, easier on their eyes, more comforting to them to be around? Oh please! Fuck you all.

Should I lose weight so I can find a boyfriend . . . and then a husband . . . and then CHILDREN?  Yes, of course. Because men have always been such a wonderful and positive thing in my life. Of course I want to alter my behavior just to invite more of them in!  Hah!

Should I lose weight so I can fit into all the nifty clothes? I actually considered this one for a bit. But you know what? This one actually just pisses me off because as much as the media bitches and moans about people being all fat and stuff, wouldn't you think by now someone besides Lane Bryant would be smart enough to cash in on that and actually start making cool clothes for fat people?  Come one! Someone see the market here!

Should I lose weight so everyone will shut up about my weight? Again, I considered this one . . . but then I realized that those who feel the need to harp on my weight will just start nagging me about something else. Worse, they'll nag me more because they'll think they finally won with the weight thing.

Should I lose weight because as medicine becomes more socialized, people with health issues will become the pariah to anyone who wants to bitch about their taxes?  I considered this one too.  Then I realized that if it gets too annoying, there's always that free death panel option.

But enough of that. I think you get my point.  So, so many reasons and all of them fail to motivate me.  All reasons, along with other less flattering/sane ones, that I've heard before. None of them work for me.  And yes, a lot of why none of them work for me is because I am filled with bitterness and venom, but you see? That is where the failure to persuade things comes in.

I do, however,  have two reasons I cannot deny or discard for wanting to lose the weight.  Two reasons that can't be justified away or dismissed. At least, not yet.

I would like to not have to hassle with the issues of my weight every day.  I would like to not have to take all the special measures necessary, wondering if I can get into places, wondering if people are going to bother me, wondering if the damned blood pressure cuff will fit. I would also enjoy not being in so much pain.

So as I consider this drastic life altering procedure, these are the things I cling to, the facts that give me courage about the whole process.  Less hassle. Less pain.  These are real, tangible elements.  Things I know, for a fact, will change. Things I want to change, want to live without.  These are my motivations and my reasons.  I'm glad I finally found them.

Tuesday Night Blues

I'm not really sure how good my Tuesday night posts will be from now on.  Wednesday is therapy day and I just started a program to help people who are adult survivors of childhood sexual trauma learn to cope.  I read the chapter. I did the work. Okay, let me rephrase. I read the chapter and I did the work as quickly after the appointment as possible so that I wouldn't procrastinate and put it off.  It was finished that day.  It's still been on my mind ever since.

On Thursday, it wasn't so bad.  Actually, on Thursday, I had some very intense physical issues happening, so my mind was elsewhere anyway.  Still, I don't think the chapter would have been such a deal to me anyway because it wasn't on Friday or Saturday either.  I relaxed and thought about other things, kept my mind free from the chapter and what I would be doing in therapy.

Sunday though . . . by this time, the chapter gnawed at me.  Every question played over in my head, again and again. Every answer written down in my serial killer handwriting ballooned up in my brain as I considered the truth and consequences of response.   I was frustrated by some of the questions and frustrated by some of the assumptions made by the book. By Monday, these frustrations found themselves on trail, as I weighed if this book was even the direction I wanted to go.

Today, I'm in somewhat of a half-nervous/half-Zen state about the whole thing.  I understand the book is best if it doesn't completely suit me tastes. That means I'm surrendering a bit of control about the situation, which I think is somewhat important in this case. Yeah, I keep taking very deep breaths and telling myself that.  We'll see how it goes.

The Wash Woman I Love

I'm not really clear on all the details of where my great-grandmother was born, but I think her mother was already in the US before her birth. I do know that said great-great grandmother (who was named Josie Genta), lost her husband on the ship while traveling to the US from Italy. 

I also don't know how it was that she came to live in Arkansas. It seems like a strange place for a young widow with a small child to go.  Maybe she had friends here or maybe her new husband did. I really don't know how she found her second husband, who's last name was Vardo, but I do know he only lived long enough to get her pregnant and then, like her first husband, died.

It must have been so scary for her. Here she was in a country she didn't understand, with two babies, and no husband.  I think about how much hope she must have had when she and my great-great grandfather boarded that ship. I imagine them holding hands and her so excited about raising her family in America.  All of that excitement was replaced by grief and fear when she lost him. 

And then again, she found a new husband and thought things would get better.  She and her daughter would have someone to help them get through life.  When this second husband died, she must have been so devastated. She probably felt like she was doomed.  All the while, she had herself and her two children to feed.

What I do know, what is legend on my father's side of the family, is that after her second husband died and her second child (a boy she named Johnny) was born, Great-great-grandmother Josie did not marry again.  She moved to a small community called Frogtown, where the Italian immigrants in the area clustered, and she worked by herself to support her children.

Josie didn't speak English, though over time she came to understand it.  My grandfather told me that when he was a boy, he spoke Italian with her, though when he spoke in English, she would answer him in Italian and understand him. She wasn't comfortable with the speaking of it though. There were no English as a Second Language classes in this area back then and her access to English speakers was limited.

In fact, the only time she saw English speaking people was when they came to bring her their laundry.  This is what Josie did to support herself and her children.  Laundry was hard in those days. No washing machines, everything hung on a line to dry, irons solid masses that sat on the stove (that had an actual fire inside, fed, in this area, by wood and coal) and left to get so hot you had to hold it with a towel to keep from scorching yourself.

People would bring their laundry to her and she would beat out the stains, scrub til things were clean, spend hours hanging this stuff out, and then brave the heat of the iron to make it all perfect before folding it into neat piles to be sent back to them.  My grandfather said her hands were so rough to the touch.  My great-grandmother explained that she would sometimes work until her hands were raw. Actually, I'm not even sure about them bringing it to her part. She may have had to fetch the clothes and stuff herself. 

I do know, from what my great-grandmother and my grandfather told me, that the people she worked for were never kind to her.  On more than one occasion, they both heard her called "that dirty Italian wash woman."  Because she was a widow and young, there were always rumors about her.  From what I have been told, she didn't let that phase her.  She used what money she got from her work to make clothes for her kids, have enough food on the table, and see that they stayed warm and secure.

I don't know how old she was when she died. I don't know the circumstances of her death or where she even was. I know it was after my grandfather was at least ten, but no one has even discussed more of the details with me.  I don't know if she was happy much in her life. I don't know how often she smiled or how her laughter sounded.  I don't know what her favorite color was or how much she believed in her faith.

What I do know, is that, while I never met Josie, I love her. I am proud to have come from this woman. I am in awe of how strong she was, how noble she was, in the face of lose and disappointment and so many obstacles.  Josie Genta was a problem solver, a survivor, a provider, a champion.  She took care of her family when no one else was there to do it.  She took care of herself when she lost everything, and did so in a country that was strange to her and where she did not even speak the language.  I admire this woman so much. 

And I hope that time is more fluid than linear. Because then Josie (in those moments when she was too tired to walk, when her hands were too sore to continue, yet she knew she had no other choice but to keep going) somehow, some way, felt this love from me.  I hope that while I'm sitting here in 2011, writing about her and adoring her, back when she needed to feel embraced by someone, she felt it from my love in the future.

When Ghosts Attack, Will Your Marriage Survive?

My roommate and I were watching some cable level show about ghost hauntings today.  We tend to watch shows like this because they have a nice ease of comfortable predictability to them. You know, people move into house, weird shit happens, people call ghost hunters with clever acronym who over explain their equipment, details are uncovered, mystery solved.

There is one predicable aspect of these shows, however, that always annoys us. Inadvertently, the paranormal stuff will start happening to only one person.  This person will ignore it until it gets too strange, and then they tell their spouse. Almost always, the spouse blows them off or thinks they're making it up.  And even given the mounting fear and panic from their partner, they still continue to disbelieve them until something happens to them.

Whether you believe in ghosts or not, put yourself in this position.  There is something deeply frightening to you, something you feel is putting your family and yourself at profound risk . . . and this person who is your partner in life refuses to believe you.

Imagine how frustrating that would feel, how heartbreaking.  Think about how, in that moment, you would feel so completely betrayed. So alone.

The sad thing is, I bet for a lot of people, it's not all that difficult to imagine.  In many marriages, this is a constant reality. This other person doesn't trust your judgement or take you seriously.  Or, maybe you're the person who doesn't take your spouse seriously.

If this is the case, something needs to be done about it.  Serious therapy, discussion, and analysis are needed to see if this can be repaired.   Sadly, this isn't one of those things I'd keep banging my head against though.  Not trusting the judgement of the person you're with is a very serious crack in the foundation of your marriage. If quick steps are made to find a way to fix this, of if this other person is refusing to fix it, it's best to walk away.

If you're not married, but are considering it, here are some important questions you need to ask.

1. Does this person take me seriously?
2. Do I take this person seriously?
3. Do I trust this person's judgement about life decisions?
4. Does this person trust my judgement about life decisions?
5. Do I believe this person when they say something?
6. Does this person believe me when I say something?
7. Does this person respect me?
8. Do I respect this person?
9. Does this person demand to be decision maker no matter what?
10. Do I demand to be the decision maker no matter what?

If the answer to any of these questions is "no," then this is not the person with which you should commit your life.  It doesn't matter how much you love them, it doesn't matter what some religion or culture says, it doesn't matter if they have money or you have kids together or anything.

If you cannot trust and respect each other, if you cannot be mindful of each other's opinions, then the marriage will always be lopsided and flawed.

You know, a lot of people have unrealistic expectations of marriage partners.  They want someone to be perfect.  They want someone who is beautiful and funny and rich and sane and sexy, but classy and interesting and well, you know the list can go on and on.  We also know that in a very real sense, most of this isn't likely to happen.

However, you can find someone you trust and someone who trusts you.  It means being discerning about your choice and it also means being very honest about yourself, but in the long run, this will help you find someone who, when you keep seeing blood flowing down the walls and zombies knocking on the doors, actually believes you when you tell them that it's probably a good idea to move. 

Be Young and Beautiful if You Want to be Loved

Oh look, a study came out saying the same old tired things that these studies always say. Women feel old by 29 because blah blah blah magazines society blah blah. Men don't feel old until 58 blah blah. People are all up in arms about it, talking about how unfair it is and how much society sucks for this reason or that and how whatever group you have to belong to is being oppressed by the other groups. Le sigh.

Do I feel older now as compared to how I felt at 18 or whatever? Yes. I'm 37. There are people my age who have grandchildren. Do I have things that sag more and bag more and crow's feet and gray hairs? Yes.   Do I know that I often feel out of the loop, unaware of the slang, lost in the newer culture, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the years I've lived? Yes.

But would I trade any of this for the feeling of security I have in myself now? No. Would I trade it for my even darker sense of humor? No. Would I trade it for the wisdom (even what little I have) gained from years of trial and error? No.

Would I go back to the emotional hell of 18? No. Would I go back to the naivety of believing in love and marriage and college will get you great jobs? No.

Because this is the thing, we feel older because we are older. Does that make us OLD? No.  It doesn't make us young either.   And while many people, so many people grasp and try to hold onto the idea of being young, we tend to do so forgetting how much being young really does suck.

We lament at how society caters to the young and the beautiful, but, honestly, is that the life you want?  Would you want to be your age and still get treated like a piece of meat? Would you want to be a 39 year old guy and sound like or look like Justin Bieber?

And yes, older men like younger women.  Does that mean there are less men for you to date because they want the younger girls? Yes. But . . . do you really want to be with a man who is obsessed with youth and nubile beauty?  I realize I'm being very judgmental, but I've always been of the opinion that if you have to live out Steely Dan's "Hey 19" with someone who doesn't even know what the hell Steely Dan is, then you're probably not someone I would be happy with anyway.

So this is what I say to the study. Yes, I feel older. Yes, I'm not young and pretty and blah blah.  Luckily? I'm old enough to not care enough about that to let it phase me. I'm mature enough to know that getting older is better than being young and impressionable and easier to take advantage of.

Though, I say all of this knowing my situation is somewhat different than the typical woman.  I was never complimented on my looks as a child, so my self-esteem isn't chained to that concept. Mine is more tied up with my ability to be a smart ass. I don't want kids, so my biological clock is ignored or, more often, mocked.     It doesn't matter if I "finds a manz," because marriage is so not for me.  And I'm still Gen X slacker enough to measure my worth not in financial success but in how much I can find meaning in each day.

Even as I write that, I realize that while I'm not the typical woman, there are probably more and more women who feel the way I do.  The nice thing about having pervasive jadedness as a cultural norm is that more and more people view the social myths and trappings as nothing more than a set of lies at which to roll one's eyes.

In the end, I think it's less about women really feeling old at 29 and more about how much society needs them to feel old at 29.  We have whole industries hinged on this.  We have control measures and self-worth destroying tactics built from this. Industries and institutions thrive off the idea that women need to be young and beautiful, and to do so, should be on a diet or in a chair sticking poison into their skin to numb expressions or under a knife or under a man or any number of other things where they throw away their money and common sense and self-love so that the rest of the world can profit from their labors.

In the meantime, the rest of us fat old ugly broads will be over in the corner drinking our martinis and not giving a damn if you think we're pretty or valued or whatever.  If you suspect we're amused that this annoys you, we are. We don't need your approval. We don't need your love. We don't need you. Thanks all the same though.

Friday List: The Week is Over and I am so Deeply Glad

This week sucked.  There is actually no way around that at all. It just sucked and sucked some more and then decided to take death blows of sucking today. It's over though. Yes, I know the week is not technically over, but like any person who has spent most of their life in the pattern of "the responsible annoying stuff happens Monday through Friday and then YAY!WEEKEND!" Friday is the end of the week.

In the spirit of finding some hope in the universe, I'm not going to make this Friday list about the shitsack aspects of the week.  The anxiety attacks and the moments of almost pulling out my hair and late paperwork and yelling and screaming and all of that are now just floating away in the past of Week from Hell.  Instead, I shall focus on what went RIGHT this week.

1. I learned how to do some crap on my computer.  Instead of just throwing my hands up in frustration, I asked questions, read blog posts, consulted with some living people, and learned some stuff. Kind of.  And while the computer may not be 100%, it's better than it was.  Or, at the very least, I know how to avoid its problems.
   
2. Instead of remaining uncomfortable in a situation, I spoke up and got myself out of it.
   
3. I have some of the most understanding friends in the world.
   
4. I took the first steps to dealing with something that has been in my life since I was a small child.
   
5. I found a new band to love.
   
6. By today, all of our paperwork came in.
   
7. Despite this week being hellish, I can sit here at the end of it and find positive enough to actually write a list about the good stuff.  For me, this is a MAJOR change.

So, in a week of bad and sucky, I did find some good stuff. I'm so happy about that. I really am. Here's hoping next week is better.

Survivor as Example in how NOT to Ask for Help

There are many things that prevent communication.  A major preventative is angering the people with which you intend to communicate.  Granted, if you really don't give a damn about any actual communication or exchange of ideas, I guess this is fine. However, if you do care about actual communication, pissing people off is a mistake.

Consider how many times you have wanted to explain an idea to someone and started out with a statement or action that put them on the defensive.  Sometimes this works the way you intend. More often though, you will find people go into either offensive, defensive, or avoidance mode with you.  Whatever you goal with is suddenly  unattainable.

Do you quite often find yourself frustrated because people won't listen to you?  If so, accept the fact that the only person you can change in this situation is you. If they don't listen to what you are saying the way you are saying it, try another way.  Consider presenting your argument in a way that appeals to them but still accomplishes your goals.

There was a good example of how not to do this on Survivor season 22, episode 6 entitled "Their Redheaded Stepchild." Crazyman Phillip was tired of two of the girls on his team never working and decided to call them out on it.*  They don't take him seriously, so all of his anger and bossiness only served to annoy them.   As long as he was going about his communication in this manner, he was never going to get anywhere with them.

Boston Rob actually supplied, in private interview, the approach Phillip should have taken.  He could have gone to the girls and said, "Look, you don't really have a lot going for you here. You do about the same in challenges, you're not great with plotting, and you both lack in a lot of personality. So if you help around camp, it is a point in your favor if you make it to the end and people are voting on you."

I don't think in a million years Phillip would have come up with this, but if he had, he might have gotten more help with the fire. Even if he didn't believe it for a minute, he was still getting no where with his current approach. A new angle certainly couldn't have hurt him. Phillip doesn't know how to play a good social game though.  He's too literal, linear, and crazy. Which is an odd cocktail of personality, really.

Anyway, if you find yourself in a situation where you want someone to do something and want it badly, don't be lazy about this.  If you've approached this idea from one angle and just end up angering the person/people , think about them and what they want. Consider their goals and needs.  Instead of coming at them with "I need" or "I want," start with a statement about something related to one of their own goals/desires.  Show how what you want can work into that.  Smile, stay calm, and show how much benefit both of you can find in this arrangement.

Who knows? You might just get what you want after all.