The Vine: July 9, 2004
Dear Sars,
Okay. Problem.
First, the relationship: Boy, age 19, and I, age 18, have been friends for a long time, realized that we had feelings for each other during the summer, and then went off to respective schools. I am at Huge New England University of Doom while he is at small Midwestern Hippie School. We are nine hours apart by car. Less by planes, but planes are expensive. Even so, we are dating and in love and all that fun stuff. We have just spent a lot of time together over winter breaks. We are both virgins, have plans to sleep with each other, but haven’t quite gotten there yet.
However, there is also another relationship that comes into play: the one I have with my parents. We do not get along, never have and never will. They are very strict and we have mountains of problems. They like Boy but feel that they do not know him all that well and do not trust him. An example of this is when we took an overnight road trip with friends and they had a “talk” with him beforehand that was more or less an order of “don’t have sex with our daughter.”
So, the problem: I made plans to visit Boy over my break. I told them this, and they flipped out. They told me it was “morally wrong,” and that they wouldn’t support me in doing this. I had planned to pay for this myself. Their main problem was the idea of us sleeping in the same bed, and they claimed to be afraid of him trying to pressure me into sleeping with him. This is hardly the case, if anything it would be me doing the pressuring, but they are “not paying for college for [me] to get knocked up.”
This argument has continued and continued. At this point, I was told that if I decide to go see him, there is the possibility that they will not support me anymore, meaning not paying for college tuition. I am not going back to school in the fall. I will return in the spring to a different university. Their claims could also very well be a bluff as they were not college-educated and it is very important to them that I am.
Regardless, I still want to go. Boy will only be home one day of his break, and I will not see him again for months. I have been having many control problems with my parents lately, and wish to express my independence. In addition, if I do not go, I will be spending a week in a home that I don’t feel all that welcome in, with no other friends around.
I have tried to compromise with them. My plan for the trip involves visiting schools that I want to apply to in the future, which is something I need to do. I have also suggested that I bring a friend, or stay with another friend who attends Midwestern Hippie School. Nothing is good enough. The do not want me going no matter what.
I can’t make up my mind. One part of my brain says “don’t go, it will fuck up your family relationship further.” Then the other part chimes in and tells me that the relationship can’t get worse and how Midwestern Hippie School is a big part of Boy’s life and I know nothing about it. Then I watch my Dawson’s Creek DVD and Pacey tells me that he’s a strong believer that “sometimes it’s right to do the wrong thing.”
So my question is this: should I stay or should I go?
Thanks,
Confused So Much That She’s Listening To Dawson’s Creek
Dear Confused,
Go. Here’s why: You’ve tried to compromise with them, but it’s clearly not compromise they want; it’s quiet obedience, entirely on their terms. Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile, especially if they see that they can hold tuition over your head and buy your compliance.
I would call their bluff, not just because of the principle but because, if you don’t, you’ll find yourself up against this situation again in six months, and then again in a year, and on and on. People have managed student loans since God was a boy; you can do it too, and I think you should, or your parents are going to continue to treat you like an investment to control instead of like an adult capable of making her own decisions.
It’s going to cause a big dust-up, but from the sound of it, you knew this day would come. Get it over with now.
Hey Sars,
I met my husband eight years ago; we were very close immediately, lived together for three to four years and have now been married for five. Before we met, “John” had been in a long-distance relationship for some four years with a girl he’d known in high school. She broke up with him because he refused to become a Mormon just to marry her; six months later, she was engaged to someone else and he had completely cut her out of his life, and he met me.
Three years ago, John thought he’d finally progressed to a point where he could be friends with her, so he sent her a letter and they started to communicate via email and phone. He was up front with me about their close friendship. We live in Georgia now and she lives in Oregon with her husband. I’d never had any reason not to trust him, so all was well for a while…of course, any moron can see where this is going…
Last fall, I confronted him about his increasing irritability and distance, and he confessed that he had been having an affair with her, as much as one can have an affair with someone 3000 miles away. He said that he didn’t think he and I belonged together, and he asked me to move out of our apartment. When I began the process of finding a place, he approached the girlfriend with the new situation, and she decided (once again) to drop him for the sake of heaven. He changed his mind about our marriage, deciding that he couldn’t stand to see me go. We dealt with a huge mess of emotions and compromises and, much to my surprise, we’ve managed to stay together and heal, somewhat.
The real problem, though, is that he refuses to cut off contact with the girlfriend. He promises that they’re just friends again, and that she and her husband are taking steps to improve their marriage as well. He says that he feels like we’re stronger and happier than we’ve ever been. I feel like my pain is ebbing, but only because I’ve become numb; I feel more apathetic toward our marriage every week. I can’t afford to spend time living away from him — our money situation is stable, but if I move out of the house, I’ll have to get a job with insurance and real money (I’m an adjunct college instructor).
John has refused to see a counselor throughout all this, though I’ve tried over and over to get him to go to therapy, either alone or with me. He sincerely wants to repair our relationship, but he doesn’t want to sacrifice his friendship with her, or talk to anyone who might encourage him to cut her off. He doesn’t respond well to threats, either — I think if I insisted that he stop talking to her, he’d continue their relationship in secret. I also suspect that if she ever stopped breaking his heart (which she won’t), he’d leave me for her, anyway.
I don’t want to leave him, but I can’t stand the thought of going through this again, or of wasting ten years being married to someone else’s soul mate. Part of me wants to insist that he give her up, then wait to catch him talking to her. Another part just wants to call the bitch up and berate her for taking advantage of his inability to let go. Most of me just wants to shrivel, knowing that my best friend would do this to us.
His friends wisely refuse to get involved, but John loves your column, Sars. Your words for me are probably just, “Get a frigging spine. But — no,” but he and I both could use some of your abuse — I mean, “advice.”
Thanks,
Dreading the Cat-Custody Battle
Dear Thanks For Calling Me Abusive, That’s Got Me On Your Side,
Please tell me you’re kidding. He doesn’t want to repair anything. He wants a fallback, a second best, and he’s got one, because he cheated on you and now he won’t do anything to fix a situation he created and you’re just like, “Okay!” Yuck. No.
Grow a pair, kick him out, get a divorce attorney and a full-time job, and ask yourself in the company of a licensed therapist — to whom you should be going whether John goes with you or not — why you would settle for the kind of toolshed who has a moistly pathetic online affair with a Mormon and then skulks back to you all, “Yeah, sorry about that — fix me a pot pie while I IM her, ‘kay? Love you!” Because the thing is — and this is really not your fault and really not a reflection on you, but it is a fact and you must deal with it — your husband is a wad of suck. I mean, he made me use the word “toolshed,” for God’s sake, and I haven’t done that in a decade.
You and the cat can do better than that shit, sincerely. Start by getting yourself a therapist; you don’t have to get out all in one day, but at least get some counseling and begin actively doing something for yourself, because he isn’t going to help you. Send him COD to Utah and get on with your life.
Dear Sars,
I’ve got a Vine question that’s not very pressing. In fact, the situation’s pretty much over and done by this point, but I’m wondering if it could have been handled in a way that would have caused less stress for everyone involved. It’s sort of a long story, so I’ll try to boil it down to the essentials.
After graduating from college, I moved to upstate New York to live with my boyfriend for a year, planning to then move to NYC after our lease was up. A few months later, my friend B informed me that the following summer (when I’d be looking to move), he would have two rooms open in his three-bedroom apartment, and quite generously offered me one of them, and I accepted. Another mutual friend, M, would be graduating that spring and it was decided that he would take the third room.
Of course, there’s quite a bit of back story with M. M was my best friend in college, and should have graduated with me, but took a semester off freshman year due to a medical condition that landed him in the hospital for weeks after several gastrointestinal surgeries. He had a rough time coming back from that, and after a few years of drug abuse (although, admittedly, his drug use was no greater than any of the rest of our friends while still at school), he, for lack of a better phrase, snapped the tether for awhile in what was later discovered to be a manic episode. He took another semester off, was diagnosed as bipolar and was medicated and in therapy.
M seemed to get better when he returned to school. It was difficult, but he seemed to be coping with the stresses of college. He stopped doing cocaine because all of his doctors had told him it could set off another manic episode, but continued smoking weed and drinking. I was concerned, but he had told me that his doctors had told him that neither of those substances seemed to present a real problem for him and that it was most important that he stay away from stimulants, get enough sleep and take his meds.
Cut to moving day. I move in as scheduled. M, however, would be taking care of his parents’ apartment in midtown while they were on a (well-deserved) vacation, though he’d still be paying rent to us. While they were gone, it became apparent to me and the rest of our friends that M was having another manic episode. We contacted his parents and therapists and his meds were adjusted. Until the adjustment kicked in, we were asked if someone could stay with him twenty-four hours a day, which we did, happily, wanting to help in whatever way we could. When it became clear that the adjustment wasn’t making a difference, his parents came back from vacation to take care of him.
A few weeks later, rent was due again and M was clearly in no state to be moving out of his parents’ place. He had lost his job and was still manic. B and I called his parents and picked up a rent check; we were all hoping that another month would be enough time for M to get his shit together and be able to move in with us. As another few weeks passed and it became obvious to B and I that that wasn’t going to happen and that we were going to need to find another roommate for a number of reasons (including the difficulty of getting in touch with M’s parents to actually get the rent), we decided to sit down with M and his parents and try to find a solution. M was still manic and was less than thrilled with the conversation, but his parents seemed to understand that for financial reasons, we needed a third roommate. They were more concerned that we weren’t dropping M as a friend, which we assured them we weren’t, and we all decided that B and I would try to find a short-term roommate in the hopes that in three or four months, M would have his life back on track and be able to move into our apartment.
B and I did just that, and a few months later, M had a job, was attending Cocaine Anonymous meetings, as well as a group for people with both bipolar disorder and substance abuse problems. Once again, he seemed to be doing really well, and his first few weeks in the apartment were great. And of course, once again, (stop me if you’ve heard this one before), as soon as things seemed to have settled down, M was manic again. He told me he had been talking to Brad Pitt and Axl Rose and that he had been having visual hallucinations. I called his dad to tell him, and was told to keep an eye out to see how things developed. I asked if we needed to keep someone with him and was told that no, we should just keep living our lives and they would get in touch with therapists and doctors. When the episode was over, about a week and a half later, B and I had a talk with M and told him that he needed to take steps to make sure that there was someone who was seeing him regularly enough to know if he was manic and be able to take the appropriate steps, because B and I were just not home enough to be able to do it. I told him that I wasn’t going to call his parents again, and that I couldn’t be both his friend and his caretaker, so if he wanted to maintain a friendship, he needed to have people who could pick up the caretaking.
After the talk, we all felt better and a bit more optimistic, but naturally, several weeks later, M was manic again. By this point, not only was I unwilling to be the caretaker, I was also working on a play forty hours a week in addition to holding down a full-time job, so I had no idea, but heard through the grapevine that he had spent the night at an acquaintance’s apartment, chain-smoking (even though it was a non-smoking apartment), going in and out all night, leaving the door open and finally waking up the people who lived there by having a shouting match with himself at seven in the morning. Understandably freaked out, they started calling our group of friends, who (yet again) called his parents to explain both what was going on, as well as the need for some sort of system in place so we would no longer have to be put in this situation time after time.
After M came out of the episode, he made plans to gather our friends for a meeting, realizing that we were all incredibly unhappy with him. He had already talked to me privately, asking me if there was a chance to salvage our friendship, and I told him I didn’t think so. I went to his meeting, though, at the request of our friends. During the meeting, he told us that he was a cocaine addict and had been doing coke immediately prior to all of his manic episodes, something which was a pretty big shock to all of us, and made us (understandably, I think) even angrier. We worked with him to develop a practical plan for what would happen in case of another manic episode, a plan that depended neither on him (since he would be incapable) nor us (since we were unwilling). We also explained to him how, exactly, all of these episodes had affected us, detailed our difficulties in dealing with his parents, and asked him to put aside checks that we could use for rent and other bills in case the situation happens yet again.
As far as we are aware, nothing has happened with any of these plans, but at this point neither B and I care a whole lot. During his meeting, we told him that we would extend to him every courtesy due a roommate, but that he shouldn’t expect more than that. We don’t talk at all, which is fine. Our only real concern is money issues, but we’re both willing, at this point, to take the financial hit for the two months remaining on the lease, if something should happen and we’re unable to get checks from him.
And, after all that, my question is, should we have done anything differently? Through the grapevine, it’s gotten back to me that people who were completely outside of the situation don’t think we handled it very well and think that we’ve been unnecessarily cruel. B and I think that, really, it’s the opposite, that we’ve extended too many second chances and we’ve been far too willing to endure a completely unacceptable level of stress to make up for M’s complete inability to function as an adult. In either case, we’ve certainly learned a number of important lessons, but I defer to you, O Wise One: could we have handled the situation differently to ease up on the stress, or did we do the right thing in trying our best to make this work out?
Lengthily,
Never Living With a Roommate Ever Again. Ever.
Dear Never,
I’m with you and B. In fact, I’d have negged the guy from the living situation as soon as I had to start talking to his parents about a rent-payment Plan B. Sympathizing with and trying to go with the flow of a friend’s illness is one thing, but there does come a point, I think, when you have to say, “Look, it’s not that I don’t care and it’s not that I don’t want to help, but I can’t put myself in situations where I rely on you, because I can’t in fact rely on you.” Supporting him emotionally is one thing; tolerating repeated psychiatric emergencies because M is self-medicating with an illegal narcotic is another. It sounds like he still lives with you, which I would take immediate steps to change if I were you, because history indicates that you haven’t seen the last manic episode.
It’s not that I don’t feel for M; he’s as fed up with himself as anyone, probably. It’s not like he’s just a dick. He’s ill. But he’s also an adult, with parents, and it’s both fair and smart for you and B to decide that, while you care for him as a friend, you don’t want to expose yourself to that kind of drama in a living situation.
You did your best — better than you should have, probably, since I suspect that it just dragged things out longer — and that’s enough. Make it clear to his parents that you’re off the service, and get M out of the apartment. It’s not entirely M’s “fault,” but regardless of blame, it’s gone too far.
Dear Sars,
I’ve always loved the advice you give to people as it is always so realistic. I’ve finally decided to take the plunge and ask for my own piece of the snarkleberry pie.
I’m currently dating a wonderful guy named Shawn. Shawn and I have been together officially for almost a year and a half, but have been interested in each other for at least three. I personally have been in love with him for two years, and was thrilled when we began dating.
I can’t tell you how well we fit together. He’s sweet, funny, dorky, and able to fix my computer when it’s broken. I know I mean a lot to him, and he means the world to me. There’s just one problem on my mind. Shawn does not love me back.
It usually doesn’t even pop into my mind, but every so often I’ll feel so much love for him and get depressed that he doesn’t feel the same way for me. I know I’m being a big loser, but I just can’t help it. Am I being ridiculous? Or is it okay to feel a little depressed over this issue from time to time? I don’t want to be an annoying clingy girlfriend.
Thanks,
Is it weird, or am I normal?
Dear Weird,
Well, it’s okay to feel depressed about it — but I don’t see 1) why you would stay with someone who doesn’t love you, or 2) why wanting someone to feel the same way about you makes you annoying or clingy.
Your whole letter reads like Shawn is doing you a big favor by going out with you, but if he doesn’t dig your chili, he isn’t really doing anything for you except making you sad that you can’t win his love. He sounds nice enough, and maybe he really does love you but he just doesn’t say it in so many words; I don’t know, and I don’t think he’s a bad person. But if you know for sure that he doesn’t feel that way about you, then you’ll just keep feeling sad that he doesn’t and worrying that your love him bugs him, and — honey, no. That is depressing.
Shawn is great, sure, but not for you. Require that he love you back; if he can’t, leave. Life is too short.
Dear Sars —
This scenario recently occurred within a group of people with whom I am acquainted over the internet. Several of them traveled to another city for the sole purpose of meeting Ms. L (as she created and hosts the site upon which we all met).
About a month beforehand, Ms. L invited them to come to a BBQ at her house, to be thrown in their honor. She had also invited some of her friends and family to attend, to meet the honorees. Once they arrived in town, she drove them all around her city and planned and enjoyed various activities with them for two days. On the third day of the trip, about two hours before the BBQ, the guests called Ms. L and told her they would not be attending. The host was left with no explanation or apology and ten pounds of brisket -– as well as hurt feelings. I was appalled at this behavior and could not imagine any possible way that this could be justifiable, but I wasn’t there, so I found out about it afterwards and expressed my sympathies to Ms. L but otherwise stayed out of it.
Now, one of the women who cancelled on Ms. L is emailing others about the reason they all decided to snub her -– apparently, Ms. L’s car had dog hair in it and also a broken back window. And, last winter, Ms. L had asked us all for advice on how to get rid of a wintertime mouse that had gotten into her home. Based on that, they all decided that her house must be “too filthy to imagine” and they cancelled at the last minute, without ever having set foot in her home. I am disgusted at the way this was handled. If I had been there, I would have gone and eaten (and if her house was really dirty –- and I don’t necessarily think it was –- I wouldn’t have eaten much) but I am curious as to what you think of this whole thing and how you think it should be handled.
Also, I did speak with Ms. L and I told her how appalled I was at this behavior but now that I know their reason, should I tell her? I am almost certain that she will eventually be told and I don’t want to be the one to do it (unless you say I should) because I really think it would hurt her feelings –- though I don’t know if it would hurt less than planning a party and having no one show up. Thank you in advance for your thoughts.
Disgusted at the behavior of my so-called online “friends”
Dear Disgusted,
Wow. So, pet hair and a car with some busted bits mean that you live in a crack den, eh? Because I’ve got cat hair all over my ass right now and my back fender is crooked. I guess I should just kill myself, because a bunch of shrinking violets who can’t handle a couple of dust bunnies for an hour might not want to eat my food.
I don’t think I’d have “handled it” at all, because honestly, not that I live in my own filth or anything, but I just don’t notice shit like that — or if I do, I don’t assume that it’s evidence of pathological styishness. Pizza crusts on the floor is one thing, but — one mouse? That she said she was trying to get rid of in the first place? Hello? And hey, this just in — people with pets? Sometimes have pet hair on their stuff! People with cars? Don’t always have a couple hundred bucks handy to fix the window right away! Regardless, I would have “handled it” by showing up, like I said I would, to a party in my own honor, because that’s what you do when you aren’t an uptight rag who thinks she lives in goddamn Town & Country magazine.
In short, what the fuck ever, seriously. Your “friends” are a snobby bunch of assholes, and I have half a mind to tell you to rat them out to Ms. L verbatim and let them soak in it. In fact, the hell with it. Do it. Tell her. Tell them you told her. Sit back and watch the chickens of bad breeding come home to roost.
[7/9/04]
Tags: boys (and girls) etiquette friendships roommates the fam
