I’m a little bit stuck and hoping you could help.

I was depressed for as long as I can remember to varying degrees. Things came to a head in about the second year at university which I spent mainly crying and sitting in bed. I eventually got myself together enough to function — through necessity as much as anything else, as my friends said they couldn’t cope with my depression anymore and asked me to find somewhere else to live. I did it and moved in with three great girls who I love to pieces. But I was still depressed, just coping with it.

I moved back home and in with the parentals (absolutely not a problem — we get on really well and I can do what I want) and got a temp job that I like. But I still wasn’t happy and was getting worse again. So this time I asked for help. It was the most horrible, scary thing I’ve ever had to do and admitting that I wasn’t coping upset me more than anything else. After talking things through with a wonderful GP who put me on Prozac (which I’m now off) — I got myself together.

I was down for so long and adopting the ostrich approach to everything that it’s taken me a while to get used to being okay. It sounds really strange, I know, but it was a bit of a culture shock getting used to being happy — I didn’t know what to do. I’m getting there — I’m taking things slowly because I hadn’t just neglected one area of my life (job, house, friends, men) but all of them and it’s a bit overwhelming to sort it all out at once.

So I’ve started to date (last one turned out to be a dick but these things happen), I’m still in my temping job but applying for graduate schemes (the job’s in my chosen field, I love the people, they love me and it’s mine as long as I want it), I’m still living at home but that’s okay.

I still haven’t gotten to the problem — I’m facing the “why don’t you have a ‘proper’ job/boyfriend/flat” questions from my friends. And the answer is that I’m working on it. It’s all very well comparing me to their own situations but they’ve had eighteen months’ head start on me since graduating and however many years of dealing with life before that, so of course we’re going to be at different stages of, everything. I like my life now, I like myself. I’m happy with where I am — so what if my job’s only temporary, it’s in my chosen field, I make enough money and I’m applying for other stuff that is permanent. I might as well stay there and get the relevant experience in the meantime. I’ve had job rejections from the stuff I’m applying for now but everyone does and with each position I go for it’s a different set of assessment rules and I’m learning from it. If other people would butt out, I’d be fine.

Part of it is that they’re concerned but they don’t understand how big an achievement it was to even start facing up to life in the first place, let alone every aspect of it all at once. Part of it is that they feel they have to make up for stuff from when I was ill. Nobody knew how to help so they did nothing, not even suggest I see someone, and I know they feel guilty about that even though I’ve told them not to, that there’s no hard feelings. I had to sort myself out and I did and I’m so proud of myself for that.

But I’m fed up fielding questions about when I’m going to do all the things they feel I should — I can’t keep justifying where I’m at and fending off “You should do this” comments and I can’t work to anyone else’s timescale. There is also a tiny part of me that wants to say “the time to help was a while back, now I’ve done it on my own kindly butt out” but I don’t want to make them feel even worse than I know they already do. Explaining that I’ve got a plan and I know what I’m doing, I’m enjoying myself and whilst I appreciate them asking, I don’t want to be told what to do isn’t stopping the unsolicited life advice. It might be taking me a while to get myself together totally but I’m really living for the first time and I want to enjoy it.

That was the most painfully long-winded way of asking how I tell them to butt out without upsetting them — bearing in mind that either ignoring it or explaining that I’m fine isn’t working.

Waffled far more than I intended to — but happily!

I think you should tell them to butt out whether it upsets them or not. First they behave insensitively during your depression by doing nothing; now they’re behaving insensitively again by judging your choices and your progress, and even if they didn’t know you’d had a hard time, it’s still rude. “How come you still have a crap job? How come you still live at home? How come you don’t have a man?”

If they stopped for, seriously, ten seconds to think about why your life is where it is, they wouldn’t have to ask these questions — and they shouldn’t anyway, because there’s a difference between concern and judgment, and they’re trying to get you to think that the latter is the former. It ain’t. If they really gave a shit, they’d have given you a hand up when you were down, and they’d listen when you tell them that you’re fine and it’s under control.

So, go ahead and upset them if you have to, but they need to hear plainly that, when they keep harping on this shit after you’ve said repeatedly that you’re good with all of it, it makes you feel like they don’t listen, like they’re embarrassed by you, like they’re overcompensating for not doing anything before and it’s not even about you — just call them on their shit, because I have some plain-speaking friends, but not one of them would dream of bagging on me for having a temp job or not being in a relationship. Tell your friends you’ve got it in hand, and to shut it, and change the subject.

You have a lot more answers than anyone I know, so I thought I’d see if you could answer a theoretically simple problem for me.

I work in retail. It’s a nice place, full of rich, handmade, fabulous chocolate truffles. The pricing reflects the quality of the product: high. Most people are okay with this, but I figure it’s my job to make it worth the customer’s time. I play with them. I’ll talk, joke, make them laugh. I’ve had co-workers tell me that even customers that looked like they were mad ended up leaving with a smile on their face after I helped them. I just figure that’s part of my job — it’s creating atmosphere.

Part of that, to me, is trying to thank customers by name whenever possible, but without crossing any lines of impropriety. When someone pays with a credit or debit card, I like to thank them using their last name. “Mr.”s are easy enough, but how do you refer to a woman using her last name (the first name being too familiar for some more educated ladies)? I know “Miss” usually refers to a single woman, and “Mrs.” to a married one. When does one use “Ms.”? Is that the multi-purpose prefix to address a woman who you do not know?

Thank you for your vast, Ken-Jennings-like array of knowledge!

Signed,
General Confusion

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Dear Gen,

I would use “Ms.” for everyone. I can only speak for myself, but I find it irritating and presumptuous when people address me as “Mrs. Bunting” — “Miss,” I don’t mind that much, although I’m over thirty, so it’s really no longer appropriate, but either way, I’d rather my status not be assumed.

What we really need is an age-neutral substitute for both “miss” and “ma’am,” because I feel like there’s a no-woman’s-land between the ages of 18 and 75 where “miss” is too twee and “ma’am” is too matronly, so retail clerks and front-desk folk just have to pick whichever one they think is going to offend us less. “Sir” doesn’t contain a distinction as to age; we women need something like that.

[7/14/05]

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Tags:   etiquette   friendships   workplace