Part One
Let me tell you right up front I kinda lied. The distressed mother was calling to see if I was a suitable to counselor to work with her 14 year old daughter. She asked me, “do you work with pansexual teenage girls?” Well, as I work with all teens, my answer was “yes”. Fortunately, she did not quiz me, “do you know what pansexual is?” Right after I got done talking with her, I jumped online to see what in the hell she was talking about. So here I am, a few years later, still trying to digest the 64 different sexual classifications.
If this seems like an irrelevant subject, it’s could be because you don’t have much contact with 5th to 9th grade kids, particularly girls. However, as a counselor, I do. The prevalence of gender confusion is rather shocking. We can debate the cause of this strange phenomena, but it’s important enough that we should skip directly into what to do about it. So there are a number of ways to approach this topic. I am picking two: as a normal person living in this strange world of ours and as a therapist (and father).
As we probably know, most kids are not sexually developed in 5th grade. Some weren’t too developed in 7th grade either (see: John’s First Jr. High School Trauma). So to declare in 5th grade, and typically with some degree of pride, that you are pansexual, nonbinary, cis, or many other new labels is, at the very least, not accurate. Or absurd, depending on the environment. This is a relatively new phenomenon, and potentially troubling. As kids, particularly young girls, are sensitive to their place in the world, they are inadvertently labeling themselves in a manner that will affect their social existence. Add to that a new layer of family dysfunction and discord, and the troubles are mounting. All of this to just “make a statement”. In 6th grade, boys are still generally idiots in front of girls. Girls are usually better company for girls. The lack of interest in boys is now being misinterpreted as being non-heterosexual. THEN, as if it couldn’t get any weirder, schools are adding to the mix by being scared of being labeled prejudiced, so they may allow kids to change their name to a made up, “non-gender” name. “West, Roux, Painter, Robot” are a few snappy examples. Some colleges are perhaps leading the way by allowing kids to demand they be addressed by a pronoun. “They, them, their” are a few. Add the newly made up ones such as “xe, ze, sie, co, and ey” and we have a new language of silliness.  With the support of the gay community (hereby referred to as the G+ community, as it’s too difficult to find each letter on the keyboard), and now lack of support really gets labeled as prejudiced.  *sigh*.
Is it a temporary trend? Does it foretell a grim future for the normalcy of the U.S.?  Who knows? The real question is, what can we do to help our children in these challenging times? Now we switch from a somewhat disgusted parent to a therapist.
Continue with Part Two.
  
Part Two
It is our duty (and privilege) to raise our children to be remarkable human beings. Through joyous times and trying times, we should attempt to be what our child needs. So, in addressing this one issue, I try to be empathic, understanding, but not cowardly. In situations such as these, our kids need to not create such a hostile environment that we lose our focus on being credible to them. Keep in mind what you should already know by now: Telling our kids that they are flat out wrong does not convince them to change their minds. So then, how do we help to guide them? 
As much as it seems to be a waste of time, letting them talk is immensely helpful. When what is rattling around in our head is put into words, we often will get another way of looking at things. When a kid is feeling listened to (which is not often), their defenses are softened. At the same time, mentally clarifying our position to ourselves (which also is not often) helps in giving our child something to consider rather than to merely argue about. For example, is our point, “YOU ARE NOT POLLYWANNACRACKER SEXUAL!!” or is it, “when we are in 7th grade, it is premature to declare what our sexual preference is. How would we know so early in life?” They don’t have to agree, but know that you have just planted an important thought in their soft little head. Or, “why loudly proclaim what you feel your sexuality is? If some 8th grade boy went around school proclaiming, ‘I’m not a gay guy, I only like women!’ would you consider him a loud mouth? Our perceived sexuality is a private affair, not something to be advertised.” In this manner, the kids have much more time to figure out their place in the world.
Considering that our child may be different than us increases the likelihood that they won’t make a decision based on merely an angry attitude. Where it is possible our child may truly be gay (or G+), as it is estimated that 2% of the population may be, we must guard against contributing to a hateful home environment that may increase the odds that our child is making decisions based on angry emotions rather than on mature decision making. With control, love and dedication, we can firmly but respectfully disagree with our child without pushing them away into a dark and lonely corner.
These are certainly strange days, and it’s important that we pass the test of not pushing our child away when they need our guidance and direction. They might be making us crazy, but we need to be their rock.
  
John S. Sommer
Licensed Clinical Social Worker  
12/21

​ I suppose I could think of it as “people who’ve inspired me” but sometimes it’s more than that. I like to think I can extract a few molecules of greatness from them and inject them into myself. Take Gene for instance.
 
I was working at the local mental health clinic when one strange looking character walked by my door. An old guy, maybe early to mid-seventies, long silver hair, a black cowboy shirt, black pants, black boots and a little bolo tie. I figured it was my next new strange client.  He came back down the hall, walked into my little office, stuck out his hand and said,” Hello. You must be John Sommer, I’m doctor Eugene Tipps, your new psychiatrist for the Center.” He retired from his practice in Houston, traveled, and joined the rent-a-shrink program. We would have him for six months. We became fast friends. After, retirement, he went to Australia with $50 bucks and no credit cards.  He hitchhiked across the country and would cut wood, farm and whatever else he could do to earn his keep at the home of whoever invited him to stay.  I commented, “These folks must have wanted to adopt you!” He laughed and said, “True, most of the time. But I wouldn’t stay more than three days. Then I’d move on.” After six months he had his son wire him money, returned to the states and worked at various mental health clinics throughout the county.
 
I sat in a few of his women’s groups and beheld the master. They were the greatest groups I have ever seen in my life. He was like a great conductor directing his orchestra. He could lovingly shutdown an aggressive overly animated lady, and sweetly coax a shy one into a significant conversation. At 75, he was fascinating, hard working, and full of great abilities.
 
When I “extract some cool DNA” (mentally of course), I rarely want everything about the person.  This particular man was unbelievably hard working. He was Abe Lincoln honest and put a huge priority on loyalty. If you helped him out of a jam he would never forget it. Lucky for me I didn’t have to “steal” his DNA, as it was my Dad. We rarely want to turn out to be exactly like our parents, but we can focus on outstanding traits we would like to copy. There are a couple from Dad I want.
 
​Job after job, one terrible supervisor after the next, I finally landed a great one. He was diplomatic, motivational, imaginative and full of knowledge. No angry ego to deal with. I remember being quite aware of his style of supervision and how he helped me to develop into a good counselor. I have tried to emulate it in later years with people I have supervised.
 
A woman came in sharing with me the “hopeless” alcoholic she had been married to for a number of years. I expected her to rant about his drinking problem and then ask me if I could help her to change him. Instead, she was full of compassion and love and instead asked if I could empower her to give her the extra strength she would need so she could continue to love and care for him until the end. When the end came many years later, she was his loving rock. I was taken aback by her loyalty and compassion she had for her tragic husband. I still think of her after all these years, but I’m not giving back the molecules I borrowed from her. I want those loving and dedicated attributes myself.
 
Rather than just getting older and becoming someone rather accidentally, it seems more logical, and certainly more exciting to try to become someone far greater. We can pay attention to co-workers, acquaintances, other parents, even strangers to provide us with ideas and inspirations to make our own lives more meaningful and enjoyable. I suppose the bottom line would be: expect more from our short lives. Keep your peepers open for inspirations.
 
John Sommer
Licensed Clinical Social Worker
7/20/21

After having been babied by our fine friends following a recent eye surgery, I was reminded of a powerful healing aid I had somewhat forgotten about. Debbie began by making a super delicious supper followed with her semi-famous chocolate sheet cake. Jody watched over me like a protective mother, dimming lights he thought would bother me, and making sure my beer was cold. As I slunk to bed at a frightfully early 9:30, I heard him remind the two best friends, Debbie and Denise to “keep it down”. I slept uncommonly well, despite the weird little cup over my eye. I am positive the extra care and affection I was graced with sped my healing significantly.
 
The next day I was thinking about my first dramatic lesson in unexpected healing. Twenty five years ago my father, at the tender age of seventy-two, died of pancreatic cancer. One of his employees was a somewhat uninspired property manager for Dad. I didn’t dislike him, but I didn’t care for him much. A jokester and a little lazy, I didn’t spend much time with him. I hadn’t seen him in two or three years prior to Dad’s death.
 
When Dad died, my Mom asked me to give a brief talk at Dad’s wake. I was a little nervous, as I can occasionally be a bit of a crybaby; it would have been humiliating to break up in front of a large group of people. Nevertheless, with too little preparation and a deep prayer for calm, I persevered. The talk was enthusiastically received, but I was spent. Everyone wanted to talk to me afterwards, but I wanted some time to myself. As the mortuary was huge, I decided to disappear down the maze of hallways, deep inside the building. I put my back against the wall and slid down to sit in the hallway. To my disappointment, I heard someone coming down the hall. Dad’s employee appeared and wanted to talk, but I wasn’t in the mood, so I said I was sorry to be abrupt, but he needed to go. He said he has something he needed to tell me about my Dad, and would be brief. I reluctantly agreed.
 
He said, “As you know, your Dad subdivided some land into lots and sold them for people to build their own houses on. He called me on a Thursday night and told me he was coming into town Friday at nine a.m. and to be ready. When he arrived I got into his car and he asked me where the Browns had built their house. I guided him a couple of blocks and showed him. He pulled up to the curb and told me I could stay in the car or go with him, it was going to be brief. Of course I went; I wanted to see what he was doing. He rang the bell and a little old lady answered. Your Dad re-introduced himself and asked if he could talk with her and Mr. Brown. She served us a cup of coffee while she got her husband. When he came in he was pleased to see your Dad. He told him they had always been grateful at the nice lot and good price he had given them. Your Dad stood up and said, ‘I went down to the title company yesterday and discovered that they had not given you the discount you were supposed to get for paying cash, so I brought you this.’ He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a check for $7,500.
“They assured your Dad they were fine with the deal as it was, but he insisted, ‘This is not my money, it is yours. I’m just sorry you didn’t get it as you should have.’
“Mrs. Brown was crying, saying as they were on a fixed income, the money was a godsend for them. Mr. Brown was close to tears and shook your father’s hand so long, your Dad had to gently take his arm and pull his hand loose. Your Dad didn’t say anything on the way back to my house. When I got out, he told me he’d be back on Monday, and we had some work to do. Then he drove off.
I just thought you needed to know that.”
With that, he said, “I loved your Father too” and left.  I never saw him again.
 
In light of the sadness and difficulties that followed my Dad’s death, I am positive that the extreme kindness shown to me that evening helped speed up my healing. I have since incorporated this in my own therapeutic assistance I offer people in my profession. If I didn’t have the opportunity to know the person who has died, I ask to be treated to stories about them. I would like to get to know them, even at a distance. I benefit by understanding a person’s depth of their loss, and help them in sharing significant memories.
 
So, to people who have helped heal me with your extreme kindness, I thank you with all my heart. You have taught me much.
 
 
John S. Sommer
Licensed Clinical Social Worker
2/2020

“Trauma” is an event or events that puts us through physical or mental hell. The list is endless: child abuse, physical and/or sexual, loss of someone we loved, life threatening occurrences to name just a few. There are many therapies applied to help  people recover from traumatic times. One more recent (and still strongly debated) therapy is the relatively new “Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing” therapy (EMDR). The VA is running with it for the time being to see if it is helpful for returning soldiers with PTSD. With numerous therapies available to help folks suffering from traumatic issues, it is with a little reservation that I offer information that is somewhat generic. However, if I had not found it helpful in the past, it would not be worth noting.
 
The most commonly occurring trauma I have dealt with in my 32 years of private practice is physical and sexual abuse. A teen comes in and shares that he had been molested by a neighborhood boy for a number of years. A grown man is barely in control as he shares that he recently discovered that his son had been molested by his grandmother. Another man told of his step father “beating the shit out of me” for years, while his mother made excuses for her husband’s behavior. A woman was virtually held captive by her cruel husband in the most remote area of Utah for years. The list goes on and on and on. Although the steps to take to help the healing process differ from person to person, there is a couple of common threads.
 
Abuse is the hurt that just keeps on hurtin’. The father with the abused daughter may find himself running grotesque mental videos through his head. He will most certainly feel like he didn’t protect his daughter well enough. So how does one begin to heal from something they cannot control? As an overly simplistic image, we can look at our lives as a big see-saw. All this horrible crap is placed on one side, throwing off the balance in favor of the trauma. Most people seek relief from therapy by hoping they can reduce the weight of all the negativity. Logically though, other than amnesia, these are your memories. So the way of counter-balancing the trauma is to begin to add “weight” onto the other side. As we strive to improve our lives, we add weight to the “good” side of the see-saw. What is it that a person needs to improve their lives? Work diligently at making our marriage a powerful one? Vigorously seeking ideas to become not a good, but a remarkable parent? Consistently working at improving one’s health through new found nutrition and/or physical improvements? Seeking a new and enlightening spiritual or religious awakening? Dedicating ourselves to be in the service of others?
 
In other words, we break the bondage of mental of physical negativity by concentrating on improving ourselves. It is not so difficult to begin, but the effort to stay focused on the long term effort to improve our existence is demanding. However, what is more exhausting: working diligently and consistently to improve ourselves, or to quietly rage at the stupidity or cruelty of some massively screwed up person who impacted our lives? Hey, they did bad stuff before, I’ll be damned if I’m going to allow them to continue their shitty behavior year after year in my head.

HeyJohn,
I am writing you because I am so depressed. My Grandmother died a year ago, and I have really had a hard time with it. A few weeks ago I went over to a friend’s house, and she was making cookies for her kids. Every time I smell cookies cooking, especially sugar cookies, I think about making cookies with Grammy. I got so sad, I had to leave my friend’s house crying. To make matters worse, I was using a cheap mascara, so when I got home, my face looked awful and a little scary. It was terrible. I miss her so much, and remembering that I had her arrested a few months before she died makes me even more sad. What can I do to stop being so depressed?
Cookie
 
Dear Cookie,
First let me say I really like your name, especially in light of your letter. I am sorry for the death of your grandmother. She sounds like she was a very different kind of involved grandparent. Try a new strategy to help you: stop trying to not be sad. Work at enjoying thinking back about memorable experiences with her. Get a friend or good family member to exchange stories about her. Be grateful that your suffering means you had wonderful memories with her. I mean, except for having her arrested of course…. I could use an additional note about that one.

HeyJohn,
I am an eighteen year old girl living in a bad house. I never met my Dad, and my Mom ran off with another woman a few years ago, and I haven’t seen her since. I’m living with my Grandmother, and this is like living in a homeless shelter or a nut house. My thirty year old cousin and his meth-shooting girlfriend are taking one of the rooms in this house. Last month my boyfriend set up his PlayStation 4 in my room for us to play. A few days later, when I got back from school, it was gone. I asked everyone who took it, and of course no one admitted anything. Later I found the pawn ticket in my nasty cousin’s bedroom. When I showed it to my grandmother she said, “Well, for God’s sake, if you want it back, go pay off the pawn ticket!”  I told her since she’s letting these skanks live in our house, she should pay for it. She got really mad at me and started yelling. I went down to the pawn shop, paid $90.00 to get it back, and brought it back to my boyfriend’s house. I’m worried he will stop liking me because he’s discovered what a screwed up family I have. Do you have any ideas to help me stop suffering?
White Sheep Of The Family
 
Dear Sheepy,
I know it’s not this easy, but four little letters will eventually bring you some peace of mind: M-O-V-E. Although you presumably have a few months before you graduate, and thus will likely have to stay in the Nut Hut for a while longer, start making plans for what will follow graduation. College bound? Make an appointment to see financial aid and see if they have loans, or better yet, grants for disadvantaged youth. There are also very well regarded vocational schools (one in Texas is TSTC). Job Corp can be cool, as can Americorp. Training for virtually free? What an opportunity. Going to stay local? See if you can access the bulletin board at your local college to see if there are other girls looking for roommates.
The bottom line is this: you can’t change dysfunctional people, especially when they see no need to improve. We can, however, succeed in our own lives. It takes some effort, but so what? Would you rather voluntarily live in misery? Not me. I hope not you either.
p.s. As a relationship enhancer, keep your boyfriend away from the House of Weirdness. You are right to be concerned he might get scared by the level of dysfunction at Granny’s House of Horrors. Additionally, don’t always use him as your therapist. There are lots of counselors to be found. Boyfriends and girlfriends are supposed to have fun together, share dreams with each other, and generally enjoy each other’s company. Search for a counselor for counseling if you are so inclined.
Get after it, kid. You sound like you have a lot of potential. Break on thru to the other side.
 
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Texas_State_Technical_College
https://www.jobcorps.gov/
https://www.nationalservice.gov/programs/americorps/join-americorps

[Please see essay below for Part I]
In college I didn’t major in Pornography Studies or anything. I did take a class in Human Sexuality however, as I thought it might be a good place to meet girls. But that didn’t pan out. All I got out of it was a copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves, and a C+. Thus, what I know about the subject of pornography I have learned from my forty years of counseling. I never thought it was the world’s greatest activity, but I was somewhat neutral about the subject. However, the world has changed, and one of those changes is the intensity of what is out there. This ain’t your grandpa’s nekkid pinups no more. So here are a few real life cases. The facts are altered enough to keep the people anonymous, but the situations are real.
•I thought when I saw this young couple (19?) they were coming in for some relationship enhancement. Instead, shortly into our visit she said, “Will you tell him I am sick of his sexual punishment?” Yow! So into our time together, I learned that he received his “sex education” by watching triple X movies. This was pre-internet, so he had to drive with a few friends about an hour to watch lots of hardcore porn. As a result, that’s what he thought sex with his girlfriend was supposed to be. Even though she objected, his overly assertive personality won out. I saw her years after their predictable break up, and she felt she was still scarred by the extreme sex he had with her.
•Years later a husband began our session by asking, “if she has had her teeth professionally whitened, and is getting breast implants, do you think it’s reasonable for me to assume she’s making plans to leave me?” Before I could respond, she said, “Why in the hell would I stay? You are in love with all those hoes you spend time with on your computer. Mr. Sommer, I have asked him for months to come to bed with me, and instead he stays with his internet hoes. I can’t compete with all the sex stuff that they do. Our sex life hasn’t existed for at least six months. Also, do you think it’s okay that he accidentally left the porn site up, and our thirteen year old son moved the mouse in the morning and sees oral sex happening?” Although he profusely apologized for the kid incident, he made no reassurances he would, or even could cease his porn watch. I received a letter from him a few years later informing me she had permanently left a few days after our meeting. He hadn’t seen the kids in over two years.
•A concerned mother called me asking for me to help her daughter. She thought her son-in-law was “addicted to porn”. I told her I would be fine in consulting with her daughter, but she had to initiate the call. Five minutes later she called. Crying, she said they were living at the job site, and if she went to his boss for help, her husband would likely lose his job and their housing. She continued. “even though he is well paid, we can’t afford his nine-hundred dollar a month bill from the porn sites”. I was so stunned, I asked her to repeat her last sentence. Nine hundred dollars?! Uh oh. This represents a different level of pornography. Is her husband watching snuff films where the sexual abuse becomes lethal? Infant sexual abuse? This one really sent me reeling. I’m experienced enough not to play my hand to the extent where the person asking for help is hurt by my response, but I had to tell her that this is a whole new world of extremes. My parting advice was to ask for outside help to motivate her husband to seek help, in this case possibly inpatient. This issue mixed with what his job was meant he would lose his job without the help, so get the help while it’s still available. I never heard back from her.
•He was thirteen when he talked the neighbor’s younger boys into trying some sex. He had both oral and anal sex with the cousins. Although the county attorney wanted “inpatient treatment” for him, further investigations indicated that the facility was a poorly run lockup facility for young sex offenders. As this kid was small and immature, he would have likely been fresh meat for the older offenders. Instead the judge locked him up in a detention facility for four months, and put him on indefinite probation until he is eighteen. After I got to know him, I asked, thinking he had been sexually abused himself, “Where did you first learn about this kind of sex?” With his head hanging down, he quietly said, “On my phone”. When I asked if there was a particular friend or relative who had shown him the site(s), he said, “I dunno, you know, everyone’s phone”.
 
If you notice, these few examples are without religious or moral commentary. That in itself is a whole other vantage point that, although extremely relevant, is missing from this response. Dear Abby Jr. apparently thinks that this subject is one that pits the hip enlightened ones against the conservative moralists. She is wrong. Harmfully wrong. Although people have occasionally viewed extreme sex and not suffered detrimental effects, so many people have been harmed by their indulgence in porn, and a lot of them are really young, that to ignore that well known fact is far worse than being naïve or ill informed;  it is a form of  journalistic malpractice.

 
Hey John,
I am a woman in my mid-forties. I have always been slightly overweight, so I finally found a diet and healthy life style than enabled me to lose some weight. Late in the year my Mom became seriously ill, and I devoted a lot of my time to helping the family out. During the process I lost a few more pounds (not much). My Mom is improving, and my life is considerably improved.
A few months ago I was at a party, all dressed up and having fun when an acquaintance came up to me and said, “I see you’ve lost weight. And it’s not a healthy look for you”. I left the party holding back tears and I can’t stop thinking about what he said. Do I really look that bad? Should I try to gain a few pounds back? Did helping my Mom make me look worn down? It’s months later, and I still feel bad. What can I do to stop ruminating on it?
Feeling Sad
 
Dear Ms. Sad,
I have some bad news for you: schmucks are all around us. My first reaction is to slap the shit out of Mr. or Mrs. Dumbass. However, that “therapy” would only benefit me, not the accused. I think it is essential that we remember to quietly preface all comments from people with, “in my opinion”. If Mr. Insensitivity were to have had the uncommon sense to say, “In my opinion, you may have dropped too much weight”, we might still be wounded, but could keep it in context. It’s just his crappy little unsolicited opinion. That and $2.75 will get you a Starbucks coffee. In other words, it doesn’t mean much. There are plenty of people that try to make themselves feel superior by giving lots of unsolicited (and usually unwanted) opinions or advice.  Re-directing your anger (or sadness) to the tragedy of their terribly handicapped ego would be more accurate than seriously considering what they had to say.
You have to wonder what ever has happened to them that they would become so ill mannered. Too bad for us to be subjected to it; really too bad for them being like this. So instead of trying to forget about it, properly reframe it: they’ve become crass, and it’s too bad you were there for it.
P.S. Unless you look like Twiggy in the sixties, keep the weight off, you lucky duck.
P.S.S. At the risk of over self-promotion, I recommend one of my personally favorite essays: Not Defending Yourself at: http://www.johnsommercounseling.com/blog/not-defending-yourself  It really set me free.

P.S. Do you think Texas will ever legalize weed? With all these states legalizing marijuana, do you have an opinion?
Benjamin J.

She realized how foolish they were: smoking pot in her boyfriend's car. When the police lights came on behind them, she tried to put away the "blunt" (a stupidly oversized joint). She nervously knocked the fixings all over the seat and floor. Fortunately it was well within the misdemeanor range (about a gram: 1/28th of an ounce. Anything below four ounces is a misdemeanor in Texas). She was horrified when she found out she had been charged with a felony: an extremely serious and life changing charge. Because the police officer observed the small amount of pot on the seat and floor, the prosecutor decided to charge her with tampering with evidence. Maximum penalty: ten years in prison! Her court appointed attorney advised her to take a plea bargain and accept ten years probation. She will have paid over ten thousand dollars by the time it’s over. And she will have a felony permanently embedded on her record.
 
Another person came in for counseling due to some serious depression. Two years before he was pulled over for speeding. He had no problem with the officer searching his car as he hadn’t smoked pot in a couple of years. To his shock, the cop found an ancient “roach” decaying in a tiny metal box. He was charged, posted non-refundable bail, then the charges were later dropped as the roach was so old and tiny, they couldn’t get a sample from it. He had custody of his two young children, as his angry ex-wife needed more “space”. However, her parents wanted the kids and she was living with them, so they hired an expensive attorney from Dallas, and using the arrest as evidence of his inability to care for his two children, he lost custody of his children.
 
We can easily blame an excited and overzealous District Attorney, but regardless, the law is in place. The only relief is to reduce the extreme punishment for a light “crime”. Drop the debate for a while on the legalization of marijuana, and let’s consider the reduction of extreme punishment in decriminalization. Look it up, as there’s a huge difference. The problem is the people who are charge of creating a humane environment are politicians. Most do not want to create a potential controversy by taking a stand. Their main concern, perhaps their only concern is to keep their relatively easy and well paid jobs. So they stay quiet.
 
This is not an endorsement of smoking pot, but a reasonable request to drop the extreme penalties of the 1940’s, and make the law fit the crime. I hope our fine state is not only populated by political scaredy cats. We are long overdue to step up to the plate and make the shoe (or boot) fit the foot.
 
 
 
John S. Sommer
National Certified Addictions Counselor II
Licensed Clinical Social Worker, Supervisor

Yes, the Dear Crabby Jr. Emergency Response System has been activated! Today’s installment deals with a ridiculous inquiry from one screwed up sister about the other screwed up sister. Abby Junior’s response was so mind-bending, I temporarily lost my ability to speak. So, in the interest of universal brain cells, I will respond. Additionally, in the interest of diversity and world peace, I will add my response to Jeannie,  age 75, aka the daughter of Dear Abby 1. Please assume light paraphrasing:
 
Dear Crabby,
My sister is having an affair with a married man. She says his wife’s “a fat ass”, and the kid, uh, a little s-l-o-w. He buys my sister lots of stuff. He says he won’t leave his wife. She doesn’t care. She calls him honey. She’s good to trade sex for gifts. I was cheating with a married man a while ago. I broke up with him when he wouldn’t leave his pathetic wife. I think my sister’s a hoe. Should I feel this way?
Maine Sneaker
 
[Dear Crabby Jr.’s approximate response]:
Dear Sneaker,
“The two of you appear to have very different values*. You want the full meal deal, and she wants the goodies and crumbs”.  
 *exact quote
 
[Hey John ]
Dear Sneaker,
Aiiieeeeeee!! Is this for real??
First, you might ask, “why on earth would anyone print my mind-draining letter, much less respond to it?” Well Sneaky, all failing newspapers have turned to junk anyway, so why not print another ridiculous item?  So, let’s burn up some more ink:
 
You both want what you want, regardless of the damage you may bring about. Morals, values, judgment, accountability are absent from you both. Did the both of you grow up with a poor role model? Was it your Mom or your Dad? Crabby Jr. says y’all have "very different values"? Whatever. You’re more like the dysfunctional home-wrecking twins.
 
If someone’s in a failing marriage, that’s a shame. But to cause or contribute to a failing marriage is a wholly different matter. You consider your actions to be better than your sister’s? I forget, what was that kinda religious thing about who’s chunkin’ the first stone? Also to consider, if you ever write a columnist and she doesn’t comment on y’alls screwed up thinking, it’s not supposed to be a proclamation that y’alls behavior is acceptable. If you feel like doing harm to someone for your own gratification, you need a whole lot more help than just writing a funky advice columnist.
 
You aren’t asking for advice. But, if you are going around feeling superior to your sister, you need a serious tune-up. The both of you. If y’all aren’t the type who wish to improve their lives as they get older, it would be wise to simply leave other people alone. Everyone.

p.s. Crabby Junior, a lot of people retire long before 75. May I offer a suggestion?

Hey John,
I have a problem with my mother in law. My wife and I have been married for five years. My divorced MIL lives in another state. She will come twice a year to visit us. She is nice company for both my wife and myself. As we both work, she is happy to cook supper for us. The problem is her lack of wanting privacy. Every single time she has come to visit she will walk out of the bathroom topless. Sometimes totally in the raw. I don’t understand her need for attention, as she is build like a brickhouse. I’m pretty sure she times her exit from the bathroom around my being nearby. I don’t know if she is coming on to me, or she just likes showing off. When I brought this up with my wife, she tells me not to worry, her mom has always walked around topless. I’d feel a lot better if it was my wife doing this, not my MIL. I am really uncomfortable bringing this up with my MIL, as it seems pretty messed up in the first place. Instead of looking forward to good company and fine meals, I find myself being tense as her next visit approaches. What do I do?
Seeing Too Much
 
Dear Too Much,
Can you imagine a profession where a person would continually get exposed (no pun intended) to so many weird scenarios? Well, here we are, and here you go: yup, it’s a pretty freaky situation. You say you’ve been married for five years, and as your MIL’s behavior hasn’t escalated to any weirder behavior, it would seem like she’s not coming on to you. However, if it had been my MIL, I’d be freakin’ out. And, in the event you think your wife’s response is normal, it’s a little wacked out as well.
 
I have found as we age, other people’s behaviors force us to become more assertive. I cringe a little when I recall incidences when I was younger that I let pass because I was too uncomfortable to address it. But time after time after time of being subjected to improper behaviors have helped me to find my voice. I suggest to you begin to find yours. I will occasionally begin to make a difficult statement by prefacing it with the comment that I am uncomfortable in saying this, but….. For example, early in my career as a therapist, I had to endure numerous clients who would bath in perfume before sitting down in my office. A couple of times I would find myself slightly choking in mid-sentence (“so Ms. Jones, when you say [*ack*] you are depressed, etc.”). So I finally took my own advice about learning to be more assertive and would say, “I’m so embarrassed to say this, as your perfume is really quite good, but I have an acute sense of smell, and it would be better to come in without your good perfume. Please forgive the rudeness.” Although I was uncomfortable, and she would be a little embarrassed, my “new” assertiveness has set me free. Thus, at the end of a fine supper you might say to your MIL (and perhaps with your wife in attendance): “Gertrude, I am massively uncomfortable in saying this, but it really makes me uncomfortable when you exit the bathroom without much on. Please forgive the rudeness [although it’s obviously not rude], but if you could throw something on, it sure would alleviate my discomfort”. It’s a gentle but assertive way of telling someone to stop being goony. If she can’t stop being a bizarro exhibitionist, stay away from the bathroom when she’s dressing (or undressing). Perhaps your wife will benefit from your new-found gentle assertiveness and eventually learn to speak up for her husband when she needs to. Clearly, she needs to.

Hey John,
I am married with three kids. They are nice children. My husband of twenty years is a great husband. Although we are not particularly wealthy, it would seem that our difficult poor days are behind us. With all this good stuff in my life I still find myself being negative about things. These are things that go wrong, but my take on them is too negative. This isn’t depression, but what? Age? I don’t yell at my son about his homework, but it seems like an extra burden for me. Reading to my youngest daughter seems a chore as of late. How do you stop looking on the stressful side of so many events taking place?
Ms. Gustine Grim
 
Dear GG,
Many of us parents would agree that the above named chores can be taxing. However, it is possible you are engaging in quick thinking. That is, quickly considering a situation and deciding it’s worth (and stressful effort). A repetitive chore is often a drag. However, expanding your consideration for a little longer may reveal something you hadn’t seen. Your daughter will never be 14 years old, sitting on the bed, mesmerized by the story you are telling her. So the deeper truth is: tick, tick, tick toots; you’re almost out of time. Once it’s gone, it’s gone forever. This is the process of reframing. It’s not looking at a half- full or empty glass and it’s not putting a positive spin on an event: it’s seeing the truth in a situation.
Reframing is the mental art of looking at situations deeper, longer, and usually more accurately.  It is sometimes almost a magical ability of altering an aggravation into something meaningful.  It also provides one the opportunity to add a large measure of gratitude for events usually hardly ever noticed.  The most efficient method of learning this important mental art is through example and continual practice. Again, reframing is The Truth about the situation.
The man was complaining:  “My new step kids are always running a few minutes late and often miss the bus.  As their mom has already left, it’s then my duty to pack them up and drive them to school.  It’s like they’re doing it on purpose, and it hacks me off in a big way”.  Upon deeper reflection, he realized: “You know, I think they’re missing the bus on purpose because they want to spend more time with me.  We usually rock on the way to school and have a fun time.  Oh man, they’re doing this to get to spend time with me and to show me off.  I think I’ll tell them if they get the bus on time on Monday, I’ll drive them the rest of the week. Showing ME off. Ha! It’s cool.” To continue with examples of applying a reframe to a situation:
 
            The husband would leave work, get home, have supper with his wife, and then settle down to watch a little TV or type out an e-mail to the kids. 
Reframe:  “I’m just a no big deal guy, and I’ve got this fine loving woman anxiously awaiting my arrival.  Plus, she’s been working like a dog cooking up something delicious just for me!  How incredible is that?  If I could have seen this in a crystal ball when I was 18, I would’ve freaked out. It’s amazing”
 
Situation:  The mother started to run angrily outside as soon as she saw her young kids getting playing in the mud.
Reframe:  “These babies will soon be fussin’ over their hair and broken fingernails.  This time is going to be short lived. I think I’ll go out and get the hose and make more mud for them.  I’m going to encourage them to make some nasty old mud pies and get every atom on their bodies dirty.  I’ll have fun hosing them down afterwards”.
 
Situation:  After a long day at work, Daddy was not exactly in the mood to sit down and do homework with the kids.  Although he was a mediocre student with “spotty” homework completions back in the day, his kids ought to be able to get their homework done by themselves.
Reframe:  “The only thing my parents could have done to guarantee I’d do my homework would have been to sit down and do it with me.   Hmmm…..  Additionally, if my fourth grade son doesn’t understand what he’s doing in class, the only way to assure he’s going to pass is for me to review the chapter myself for a few minutes , then I’ll be his patient teacher.  Plus, I’ll give him some permanent memories of the two of us having significant times together, and I’ll be teaching him how to be a fine father himself someday”.
 
Situation: He suffers from FlatTire-a-Phobia: fear of a flat tire in an old Suburban where the spare is impossibly stored underneath the car. As he turned into his driveway, his car lurched: a flat tire! Aiieee! As bad words formed in his head and blood pressure quickly rose, a greater truth appeared to him.....
Reframe: Although he loathed flat tires, if there was any place on earth to get one, it would be right here, in his driveway, 20 feet from his compressor and extension hose. The perfect place for a flat. Ahhhhh....
 
(The Classic Toilet Seat Reframe)
Situation: “Why should I (the male) put the stupid seat down when I’m done if they don’t put it up when they’re done?!”
Reframe:  “I love getting 10 points of credit from women for putting out 1 point of effort! It’s important to her? Cool. This one’s a piece of cake”.
 
Situation:  Although she had said goodnight to her two children (in the same room) she heard them whispering back and forth to each other in the dark.  Her first thought was “they’re purposely disobeying me when I told them to go to sleep.”
Reframe:  These sweet babies.  They love each other’s company so much they want to talk with each other late into the night.  It won’t be long before they have their own houses far away from each other and won’t be able to ever do this again.  Let ‘em whisper to each other until they fall asleep.
 
This is not to be mistaken for a “make something good out of something terrible” type of silliness.  There are some very difficult circumstances that are not reframeable.  Still, a vast majority of our lives bear a deeper look.  A two year old daughter begging to be held in the arms of her tired parent might be a chore, but a deeper look would reveal a very temporary opportunity to hold our child in our arms before they grow too big to ever be held by us again.  Sometimes, all it takes is a deeper look to see the importance of a situation. Practice plenty and ye shall reap the rewards of a life properly appreciated.

Hey John,
I have a terrible problem, and I know I need a lawyer, not a counselor. But I can’t afford a lawyer, and you’re free when you are HeyJohn. My ex-husband “B” and I have had an ongoing war about the custody of our seven year old daughter. I live in Texas, and he lives in Louisiana. He hates my current boyfriend (and hates me too). He knows Jorge smokes pot. I used to as well, but haven’t smoked much in the last few years. He called child welfare and said our daughter was in danger because of drugs. They said I had to give them a urine analysis or they would take my daughter. My pee test came up clean. So then they said they wanted to do a hair follicle test. I showed trace amounts of THC. I had smoked a little a week or two before and it showed up on that super sensitive test. My bad ex took me back to court a month later, and the judge gave him primary custody of our little girl. I never had any arrest, charges or anything. Do you think that is fair? I’m going crazy without her, I miss her so much. What can I do?
Crying Mom
 
Dear Crying,
In this format, I do not have the opportunity to ask some important questions. To clarify the situation, I’d ask:

1. Have you had “Child Welfare” in your life before? If so, why?
2. Is smoking the weed a precursor to other drug use? Have you had a problem with drugs (/alcohol) since your daughter was born?
3. Any priors with the law?

I have more questions, but rather, let’s take your letter on face value (in other words, “no” to all three questions). Is it proper to remove a child from a family because a parent has smoked marijuana? From a legal standpoint, as I was kicked out of law school after my first year, I don’t know the answer. I do know, however, a parent receiving a first offense DWI/DUI (no kids in the car) would likely not lose their kids due to this first misdemeanor offense. If they did, all my hundreds and hundreds of DWI students over the years would be childless. Thus, from a moral standpoint, it would seem that such a child- parent life altering decision based on a non-arrest pot smoking situation would be on extremely shaky grounds. It makes me hope, in some bizarre way that there were other serious circumstances involved. Otherwise, this would be a travesty of justice.
 
As to what to do, I would first seek out free legal aid from my town, as this is likely now a legal issue. If they won’t help, get a referral from them. If I could not get help, I would write a brief, concise letter to all local news publications. Here we have BrownwoodNews.com , the Brownwood Bulletin, the Abilene Reporter News and the Ft. Worth Star Telegram. Follow the publication’s instructions as to not exceed the maximum length. Next, work on your own physical and mental health. See her as much as you are allowed. Keep the visits upbeat and fun for her. No complaining or crying (from you). We need to put up a good front on our children’s behalf to keep them as worry-free as we can. Do not deal with your sadness with chemicals, especially alcohol. Anti-depressants can help, as might SHORT TERM use of an anxiety medication. If you are a church attendee, it would seem like an especially good time to re-connect. Consistent exercise can also be very helpful, as it gives a sense of accomplishment and control as well as endorphin release in the body.
 
I am not suggesting smoking marijuana is great for parenting, but it sure as hell is not so dangerous that a child should be removed. I wish you perseverance. May your love of your child bring the best outcome for her.

Hey John,
I was raised by a white, middle class family in a medium-size city. I am a college graduate and in a fairly successful business. I have had the opportunity to invest some of our savings into a few rental properties; and there lies my problem. I was raised without any form of prejudice. In fact, I found myself distancing myself from adult friends as they began to drop lousy racial bombs. I would have never tolerated my sons from using such hateful language. However, something is changing in me. All three of my rental properties are being rented by black families. Although not super expensive, these are not low rent duplexes. I am constantly appalled by the condition of my properties when they leave. My last renter (of 9 years!) left so much damage as well as crap behind; it is costing me $12,000 to fix it back up. Another renter left not only their broken furniture, but a garage stacked almost to the ceiling with junk. She even left bags of untouched groceries rotting on the kitchen table! You’ve heard “everything but the kitchen sink”? Another renter took the kitchen sink. I find myself beginning to harbor a dislike for blacks, and I don’t want to be like this. Any ideas?
Fuming in Ft. Worth
 
Dear Mr. Fume,
It sure might have been easier for you had you been born a bigot. Clearly however, that is not the case. I agree with you that you are indeed in a pickle. I used to harbor some degree of “slob prejudice” against the extremely poor. Plenty of low rent places look like junk. Trash in their yard, along with a broken down car or two. Grass and weeds to your knees, etc. Years ago when I was working for the public mental health agency, another counselor and I were sent to a woman’s home who was threatening suicide with some big scissors. We were obviously on the “poor side of town”. Her scared husband met us at the door and escorted us in. My partner and I settled her down, and sat and visited with the rest of the family. This house was so immaculate you could have eaten off the floor. The yard was equally as impressive. They wanted to offer us a coke, but the electricity had just been turned back on two hours before, so everything was still warm. I remember being quietly embarrassed that I had expected nastiness, and instead was greeted with extreme cleanliness.
I don’t know why plenty of people have no self pride or the proper morals to not hurt other people: in this case you. Obviously, as in my scissor case, it’s not only poverty. However, like you, I would seriously object to a group of people changing my world view. You are not asking me renting advice, of which I would be an amateur. So asking first month’s rent, last month’s rent and a substantial damage deposit seems unnecessary for me to mention. As would me suggesting requiring an occasional walk-through to keep renters on their toes. Professional background checks also seem a worthy investment. But enough renters’ advise, of which I have only limited experience. As with people I counsel who work with soul-sucking clientele, I will generally advise them to expand their people base, including socially. Pay attention to minorities who appear to be great human beings. Patient mothers in a store with nice children in tow are inspirational. Hard working men doing talented work are worth carefully noting. People you know, or knew back in the day that are memorable are reminders that not all minorities are sink-stealing slugs. My deceased friend Charles was likely the most talented child counselor I have ever met. I have not forgotten him or his example. Personally, if you are going to stay in the renting business, fight for your right to have your own view of life. You can seriously dislike dishonest people: one shithead at a time. Don’t let crappo people represent all of mankind. They only represent their own sorryass selves.

 
Hey John,
Can you counsel cats? I'm just kidding. But it's about cats. My son, who is unreliable in keeping jobs moved in with me six months ago. His ex-girlfriend has custody of their son, but he has him every other weekend. Of course, that means I have him every other weekend, as my son still likes to party with his friends, and leaves four year old "Jason" with me. Then there are the cats. He brought his two grown cats with him, but they are mine to feed and everything else. John, I like cats- just not everyone else's cats. They claw my furniture, and when they are in a bad mood, urinate in various places in the house. Last month my son got a job in a town two hours away. He left the cats with me, as his new apartment is pet-free. I have told him I don't want the cats, but he gets angry with me and tells me if I won't keep them, I should just take them out back and shoot them because that's what the pound will do with them anyway. I'm in a fix. Any suggestions?
 
Cat Stepmom
 
 
Dear Cat mom,
The problem is that your son’s brain is infected with EntitlementMaximus, and you join the ranks of the Frustrated Unassertive. However, you need a solution, not a diagnosis. Entitled people feel like they deserve stuff not because they have earned it, but because they want it. And when they don't get it, it's someone else's fault, not theirs. A potential cure for him might be to ship him off to Calcutta and have him do volunteer work for a year. That seems, however, quite unlikely. It is extremely difficult to change someone against their will. It is possible though to change ourselves. Deciding on a course of action is step one. For example, telling him he now has exactly thirty days to get his pets or you must give them to the local humane shelter. Mark it on the calendar and make the appropriate plans to do it. Secondly and perhaps most importantly: NO BLUFFING. If you can't follow through, then do not say it. No threats, just action. If you are worried about how to deliver the news, you can preface the call with a compassionate statement such as, “I feel so badly to tell you this, but..." When he argues, be kind, but do not defend your position. You can simply repeat the order. Although the transition from unassertive to properly assertive is a bit unnerving for most at the beginning, it may be one of the most important improvements you will ever make. Take a deep breath, say a prayer (or whatever you do to strengthen yourself) and improve your existence.
 
 
Hey John,
Am I being unrealistic in my marriage? We have been happily married for eight years, have two children, and are talking about a third. I know our current and future years are not still the honeymoon period, but I find myself a little less happy than I thought I'd be at eight years. I am the center of our family, and "George" is a less enthusiastic person. He comes home from work and has less patience with the girls than he should have. I notice the kids gripping about each other in the same manner he does. We share chores better than most couples, and he's a good provider. However, he is less and less expressive about being with me. The lack of a warm greeting when one of us gets home is one example of a sad change. I don't need advice on saving my marriage, but making it better. Am I looking at our future: more and more drab? Despite it all, I still love him with all my heart.
Amarillo Annie
 
Dear Ann,
I have to make an assumption here: y'all planned on this marriage being forever, and not just until you bugged each other too much. When we first begin courting each other, all the special stuff comes effortlessly. Dressing up for each other, going out of our way to please the other, basically working to make the other person know how special they are to us. Then, as our life together progresses, we slip into normal/mindless mode. We stop greeting each other with a loving embrace and kiss, happily making little sacrifices for each other, in other words, we stop trying to impress each other. Years ago, when my daughter got a new(er) car, she had to make the transition from a standard transmission to an automatic. Rather than being pleased with the ease of driving, she expressed her concern: “Daddy, this is kinda boring. I don't know what to do with my left foot [the clutch] or my right hand [the gear shift] while I’m driving”.  It's the opposite order with our marriages. We're on automatic in the beginning by trying to make the other person happy. Then, later, we change to a manual transmission; we have to manually change gears with a little bit of effort. So what's the problem? If it doesn't come naturally, we don't do it?
So specifically I'd recommend having a kind sit-down with each other. Rather than tell someone what they are doing wrong, you can remind them of how much you look forward to seeing him, and you would love to be met with a loving kiss (even a light kiss is better than a wave from across the room). Don't be scared to lead the way. Sometimes we boys need loving reminders of how to take care of our girls. Without being overly demanding, help him to remember how to look out for you. He’ll probably need a tune-up or two on down the road. Plenty of older couples lead “normal” existences as pleasant roommates. Personally, I'd rather try to at least infrequently try to impress my girl and keep her in love with me.

NOTE: THE FOLLOWING ESSAY DEALS WITH DRUGS IN A NC-17 MANNER. THIS IS A REAL DEAL, AND NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. IT'S PRETTY DIRECT.

Okay, here's the deal: I've been debating the origin of this essay. I am indeed a little weary and in need of a small vacation. However, I have lately had a slew of banged up teenagers who come from really shitty home environments. With mom in prison, she lives with eight other people at grandma's horribly managed house. Another kid who responded to my question, "do you ever have any meals together at the kitchen table?" said: "No. It's either in my room or on the living room floor watching TV. We don't have a kitchen table". So, when I worked with a father 25 years ago, and now his daughter has permanently lost her kids as she heads to prison, I penned an essay addressing this issue. Maybe it's a good idea to occasionally take the kids gloves off.


Someone came in last week and asked a rather intriguing question. They asked, “since you have been a therapist for so many years, is there stuff you know now that surprises you?”  I really have pondered that question and the answer is, unsurprisingly: yes. So how about if we narrowed down the inquiry to, “what’s the most shocking thing that you didn’t know before”?
 
Remember in the great movie The Sixth Sense when we observed the sick mother adding slow acting poison to her daughter’s food? What kind of screwed up human, mental illness or not, would do such a thing? In my forty years of counseling, I have yet to meet anyone suffering from Munchausen syndrome (purposely causing your child to suffer so that you get people’s sympathy). Personally, I believe it would be difficult to ignore the paternal instinct of absolute disgust and remain completely clinical with such a person. However, in retrospect, perhaps I have observed a close diagnostic cousin over the years. Because I have been practicing for so many years, I have had a family generational vantage point most therapists do not have. I am now in my third generation with some families. As such, with my more torn up families, I get to see a trickle-down effect of family dysfunction. The following example is a melding of a handful of situations.
 
He was in his early thirties when he was truly lost with methamphetamine. He was one of my first IV drug users. One harrowing story was when he did a shot so huge, he had to have a junkie companion hold the syringe and finish the shot for him. He was “pinned to my chair with electricity when two young teenage girls came in. While they were being escorted to the back to ‘trade’ for meth, I wanted to scream to them to stop. They had no idea how bad this gets. But I was helpless with my own huge shot, and couldn’t speak.” A year later I did my first (and only) 11pm emergency crisis with him at my office. I could see his extreme heart rate in the  carotid artery in his neck. I talked him down from his suicide plan, and he started to come back in for counseling. Over the years he has been in rehab (and did very well), later relapsed and took his marriage to the brink, saved his marriage with his sobriety, relapsed, got straight again, and I finally lost track of him. Who didn’t I lose track of? Guess.
 
Not unlike The Sixth Sense, he has spread his poisonous dysfunction to his three children. All three of his kids has been poisoned by “David” with his insane use, getting better then getting sick, then getting better and twisting off again, his shit for behavior, and obviously his "unreliability" to his children.  His son is on parole and has lost permanent custody of his children, one daughter is in prison, and the youngest daughter I last saw with a broken nose, headed back to the abuser, and permanently depressed for having lost all three of her kids. For good. No one to celebrate Mother’s Day with again- ever. Is it genetics? Is it the toxic environment? Who really knows. Regardless, he owed it to his children to fight and defeat his love of meth, and to vigorously teach them how to fight their probable genetic predisposition for the love of altered states. So thirty years ago he was hammerin’ home a giant shot, and here we are thirty years later his personal needs have poisoned his kids.
 
So little “lost control of your drug (including alcohol) users”, picture this amazing scenario: your cute four year old daughter runs up to you when you arrive home. She wants a ride on your feet as you walk around the house. Walk with her back to your room and tell her you have a surprise for her! Help her roll up her shirt sleeve and give her a shot of meth. Her veins are small, so be careful! Just a little one, cause it’s going to take a while before she is big enough to do a bigger shot. Later, maybe at eleven or twelve, you can help to walk her into a friend’s back room and teach her about trading for her drug of choice. Bring a change of clothes for her. You don’t think that’s her life because of you? Are you serious? Of course it is. In this small town, I have an easy dozen of next-generation lost young people. You think it’s just about you? Of course it’s not. So here’s the options:
 
*Permanently repair your life. Rehab, 12-step, counseling, religion, on your own.... it doesn’t matter. You dedicate your life to changing the future of your children and grandchildren. You don’t whine, make excuses, slip up...... you dedicate your life to your children. Either do it or don’t do it.
 
*Teach them the skills they will need to combat their probable genetic weaknesses. Problem solving, stress and anxiety durability, and ability to handle suffering are all going to prove to be necessary skills to make them the improved generation.
 
*Model really good behavior, even if you have to pretend. If we intend for them to be better than us, we have to give them a picture of what that is. Never let your guard down.
 
*If you find you do not possess the paternal or maternal character to devote your life to your children, put your kids up for adoption as soon as they are born. All of them.
 
If you decide you do not love your children and just can’t improve your life, at least accurately picture the events correctly. As you take a hit off the dirty pipe (or pathetically drunkenly rage), vividly picture you putting four drops of poison in their milk every day. In this manner, you will kill them slowly. Kill their kids too. It would have been so much more humane to let a family adopt them when they were young. You should seriously consider that last option. However, I would rather fix my life and save my kids. I have never met an altered state I loved more than my children.
​
John S. Sommer
Brownwood, Texas
Licensed Clinical Social Worker
National Certified Addictions Counselor II

Hey John,
I have a complicated problem. Let me start by saying I do not intend to leave my husband. His mother’s (my MIL) life has crashed and burned. The aftermath of her recent forth divorce has left her with no long term place to stay. Thus, she has moved across the country to move in with my husband, me and our two young daughters. She is mean and my husband a wussy. A week after her arrival, she yelled at my six year old daughter, “what’s wrong with you? Are you retarded?” When I angrily complained to my husband, he replied, “Oh, she didn’t really mean it”. Last week at Bed, Bath and Beyond, I turned the corner just in time to see her stick something into her purse. My own MIL shoplifting! I told my husband I would NEVER take her with me to any store ever again. He didn’t say anything, but just walked away. How do I get this incredibly screwed up creature out of my house?
Freaking Absolutely Out Schwartz
 
Dear FAO Schwartz,
It can be a real curse to be massively unassertive. However, when we allow anyone to injure our children, there’s something much more serious going on. And, I must admit , I have an issue with parents who don’t protect their children. However, as a therapist, I try to remain as objective as I can.
 
We can sit here and try to diagnose the cause of hubby’s problem: fed bad formula instead of being breast fed? Terrorized by doodle bugs when he was ten? Daddy didn’t love him as much as he did the family gerbil? Who knows, and really, who cares? The facts, regardless of our diagnoses are that you got one bad woman for a MIL and a husband who is pretty worthless in sticking up for his family  (sorry to insult your previous taste in men). I am assuming that you have confronted your MIL in addition to complaining to your husband. As you are unlikely going to slip testosterone into his iced tea, my dear, you are on your own with protecting your family.
 
Consider  moving ½ of mutual bank accounts into a new account for yourself in case of emergency. Then inform the wuss-meister you are giving his bizarro mother thirty day notice. You both can seek out new living quarters for her, including damning one of his siblings with her temporary residence. Public housing may be an option. Perhaps enrolling her into a prescription drug trial in another state would be a benefit. She’ll make some quick bucks on that venture; and maybe some new drug would turn her into a human. In the event the black widow and the gummy worm do not wish to make a residence change, you may have enough to at least temporarily move out with your girls. Your “husband” may soon tire of cooking and cleaning up all by himself, and assist his mother in moving out. Once Mrs. Badness has moved out, please feel free to write again for an idea on how to seek some degree of happiness with you and the girls. As for your husband, change is always possible, but you’ve got to want it first. I hope he can learn how to be a husband and father. It’s a good existence to work to become a protective, devoted man to your wife and your children.

Hey John,
After a lot of suffering, my mother just died. She was only in her mid-fifties. I have a lot of mixed up feelings about her death. She knew she was COPD years ago, but she kept on smoking like a train. She really didn’t take very good care of herself, and now I’m without a mom. I am both angry and sad, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. My sister is mad at me because she says I’m not sad enough. My brother just stays drunk most of the time. How am I supposed to feel?
Lost Daughter
 
 
Dear Lost,
Early in my career,  I had a fella die who I did occasional business with and  I found myself half-crazy with my bizarre emotions. Sometimes I would not think anything about him for a while, then I’d feel guilty I hadn’t been mourning him. Other times I would be in the middle of a work project and almost “hear” a debate I’d had with him. I felt like I was losing a few of my marbles, so I went to go see my supervisor. When I explained that I was not grieving normally, he asked me what normal was. I responded, “Well, first I suppose I should be denying this whole event. Then I should probably be angry. Then I .......”. He interrupted and asked, “are you giving me Kubler-Ross’ stages of grief?” I wasn’t on purpose, but clearly I was doing just that. I laughed and agreed that I was. He asked me to describe my shifting emotions regarding Raymond’s death, and we discussed that for a while. After I left, I had a clearer picture of my sadness. I was grieving in my own private manner, and however I was doing it was “normal”.
 
Sadness / grief is an unpleasant place to dwell. Nonetheless, it is both an inevitable and important part of our lives. Grief is evidence that we have had a significant person in our lives. If God popped into your room and said, “I will relieve all of your great sadness, but in doing so, I must erase all memory of their existence from your mind”, would you do it? In a vast majority of cases, we would accept the sadness and keep the memories and experiences. Although it’s a whole lot easier to say this when I’m currently not going through it, suffering is an extremely important, and often times beneficial time in our lives. Rarely does a family member have the skills to act as a therapist. If you need to discuss this with another person, it sounds like your family would not be the ones to do it. A discussion or two with a decent counselor might be helpful. Although sadness sucks, I’m glad your relationship was significant enough to make your heart ache.
 
Hey John,
I have a job, no kids, and a shaky relationship with my boyfriend. I smoke meth, and he doesn’t like it. I say that I have a job and smoke meth, and so it is not affecting me in a negative way. Is it possible to use meth consistently AND productively?
Pam’s Pipe
 
Dear P. Piper,
My dear, if you will excuse the pun: you’re living a pipe dream. Because of increasing tolerance and simply just the nature of this drug, ♫There’s A Bad Moon On The Rise♪. Trouble is coming when you use some crappy, man-made chemical that has so many seriously bad qualities to it. Just because it is currently helping you through the day, it doesn’t mean it will continue to. In a short period of time, you will not be able to get through the day without it. Then it starts to make some long-term chemical changes in your body. Continued use without knowledge of the consequences is ignorant. Learn to add the energy to your life through consistent exercise, a well thought out diet and meth-free entertainment. The clock is tickin’ toots.

Hey John ,
I love to read advice columns, but yours is the first one that I've come across in which the advice really seems sound. I am desperately hoping you can give me some guidance.
 
My parents have been financially unstable since I was in my late teens. I worked and put myself through college, got married, started a family - the typical path. My husband also came from a financially irresponsible family, and we have worked our tails off to develop good financial habits and live within our means. We save for emergencies and it has not been unusual for either one of us to be working two jobs if we need to replace those funds after an emergency has come up. We're extremely worried about the financial situation my mother has placed herself in, however. 
 
My younger sister is an intermittent drug user throughout her life. Incidentally, she blames being illness on me - she says the fact that I scared/startled her repeatedly as a child caused her brain chemistry to become "off" and therefore I caused her problems. Her employment has been unstable. She would move in with my parents "just for a couple of months" and would stay for years, never contributing financially. My parents supported her son's needs (she did not pursue child support). Her son grew up and my parents insisted that she move out - she moved into the apartment complex where my mother worked, and then proceeded to quit her next job and threaten to kill herself if my parents did not pay her rent. Of course, they did. My nephew, her son, has been arrested multiple times for drug possession, and has fathered two children with another addict. My parents have cared for and paid all expenses for one of the children. The other was given to friends of the mother's sister who my nephew does not even know. My parents paid for the attorney fees involved with his arrests, court costs, replacement of multiple cars "so he could work" though my nephew has changed jobs about every two months and frequently takes a month or two off completely. My sister moved herself back in with my parents in their tiny apartment, sleeping on their living room floor, and storing all of her belongings in their living room. She stopped speaking to me when I told her it was unacceptable for a 40-year old adult to be sleeping on her parents' floor and that it was past time for her to get herself together. She decided that she wanted to be declared disabled, so she took a bunch of pills, then had her son take her to the hospital, so that she would be held in a mental hospital for a few days so that she could "let someone else take care of her for a while" because she says she is not equipped to care for herself. Then she didn't like it and wanted out.  
 
My parents have always been church-goers and have heard frequent teachings on being good financial stewards, but their codependent behavior has resulted in them running up multiple credit cards to pay for attorney fees, rent, cars, and child care for these two. My husband and I have begged for almost twenty years for them to get counseling, to get church assistance in correcting the situation, go to Dave Ramsey classes - SOMETHING. We have been worried that my sister and nephew would leave them wiped out financially and then expect us to foot the bill for them not being on the street, and we have repeatedly expressed this worry to my parents, but nothing has changed. 
 
My father passed away recently. My mother is 75 years old and is maxed out on credit cards, with very little savings and a leased car. She is living in a small house now that she cannot afford, with my nephew and his daughter. He is three months clean, but due to his record, has had difficulty finding a job other than waiting tables. He currently works two days a week and contributes nothing. My mom takes care of his daughter every day and weekend - free childcare. Although the birth mother has never had custody of the child, she collects child support that is taken from his sporadic checks and spends it on drugs. He's repeatedly reported this, but has been told that unless she willingly submits to a drug test, there is no proof and nothing they can do. My mother buys all the food, pays all the utilities. The little girl considers my mother - her great-grandmother - her mother, because her own other is so addicted to drugs that she rarely sees her. My sister has moved in with a boyfriend, and has been hired and released from temporary job assignments because someone always "has it in for her." She has not paid my mother back or helped her financially. She has not filed taxes in years, and has over $40K in student loan debt. She hides her car so that it is not repossessed. 
 
My mother met with her financial advisor yesterday, who bluntly told her that unless my nephew/sister pays $800 per month towards the expenses/what they owe her, she will be out of money and on the street in a matter of about 18 months. 
 
I'm sick to my stomach. My husband and I work very hard, but we have a family to support and we're not going to be able to pay my mom's expenses. What I see happening is that my mom will run out of money, my sister and nephew will dump her on me, she won't want to abandon her great-granddaughter, so she will want her to move in as well. It's like a train wreck that I've been watching come at me for 20 years, begging them to change direction, but they won't. We don't want this mess in our lives. We want to give our child a stable home and financially stable parents like we didn't have, but at the same time, we're not going to let my mom sleep on the street. 
 
Is there any way out of this for me and my husband? Thank you for your time and consideration.
Worried About My Mom
 
Dear Worried,
 That, my dear, is a mouthful. Lucky you for having turned out to be the white sheep in the family. However, it is a sad vantage point looking at so much rampant dysfunction in your birth family. Although your detailed account is different than most chewed-up families, you share one important inquiry: “what can I do to change other people?” Logically, we know that if making significant changes in our own lives is so difficult, forcing changes on someone else is typically futile- especially when they’re not asking for help. If you can’t affect their change, then how do you handle your own frustration and sadness? Limiting contact with really dysfunctional family members (or friends for that matter) is essential. Putting a hold on Facebook contributions of theirs is a first step. Limiting (not necessarily stopping altogether) texts or calls seems necessary in the same vein. I’d invite my Mom over as much as I thought was proper, and have a pleasant time together. She will most certainly need a role model for what a “normal” person is like. As years of lectures haven’t helped, perhaps merely love and kindness would remind her of what she may be missing in her own life. Will it help her to raise her standards? Maybe yes, maybe no. Is it the proper thing to do? Seems like it might be. Exposure to kindness can have a profound effect on someone.
p.s. I’ve been a therapist for a long time. As we are living in these here United States of America, I have yet to see a regular person tossed “into the street”. Though your financial fears for your Mom may be correct, the homeless /starving scenario is likely not accurate. Now, daughter, it’s your turn to be a good role model.  pss You and your nice husband need to start having some fun together. An occasional movie (theater), bowling, or a drive in the country helps to provide some balance in our hardworking lives. Work hard on behalf of each other too.

I swear I don’t thumb through my newspaper looking for something to complain about. I read “Ann Landers” and her twin sister “Dear Abby” since I was a kid, and kinda liked them. At the tender age of 24, I began my work as counselor because other than bowling and ping pong, it was something I was good at. Now, celebrating my 40th year as a therapist, I feel like I have some degree of expertise in helping others. Although I try to be on point, I know there have been times when I have been mediocre. However, mediocre is a million miles better than sucking in a giant way. Jeannie Phillips is the 75 year old daughter of deceased “Abby”. Why she has her photo when she was 42 posted I’ll never know. Still, a hundred year old pic is still way more understandable than her latest piece of advice. I do not wish to bore my readers with doggin’ this gal, but this screwed up advice is just screaming for a rebuttal.
 
To paraphrase: Dear Crabby, I am suffering from postpartum depression. I do everything for my kids, and my husband is making feel like I don’t do enough. I’m already out the door “before he even drags himself out of bed”. Then he makes me feel guilty about a number of things. “If I weren’t here, he’d have no clue as to what to do. How do I fix this situation”?
[Signed, Exhausted]
 
Crabigail suggests seeing a doctor so he can help her explain the problem to Mr. Lazybutt. But she concludes with this big bomb (rephrased, but still pretty accurate):  “if he doesn’t step up, you could blow your brains out and he could indeed be left with the sole responsibility of taking care of the kids”. That’s how you “fix this situation”? Yow! The exact quote is available on my public Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/JohnSommerCounseling/posts/971960859645800 (copy and paste if the link didn't work) just in case you need some kind of bizarro proof. Anyway, let’s help this rich ‘ol gal with a therapist’s take on the request for help.
 
Dear Exhausted,
You have self-diagnosed yourself with possible postpartum depression. Thus, I assume you have a recent addition to your family. From your description, it sounds like you are worn down to the bone, AND are suffering from a struggling marriage. In the event your self-diagnoses is correct, getting a medical opinion from a physician (a competent shrink would be better yet) who deals with depression would be wise. Additionally, you need some guidance from a professional who can perhaps be of assistance with your struggling marriage. If your unmotivated husband refuses to participate, you need some individual assistance. At worst, it’s an hour break with a good conversation with another adult. At best, you can get introduced to some stress/anxiety relief strategies, as well as some hopefully personal growth ideas. You have a lot of responsibility, and Mr. Lazybutt is making it harder yet. I hope that your husband shakes off his seemingly selfish behavior, and jumps to the rescue of his family. There is truly some relief to be had, but sometimes we need to be introduced to some new ideas. If it’s a solo venture, it’s time to ask qualified people for ideas and inspiration in order to help you and your children. In transcending your burdens, we not only gain personal relief, but we provide our children a cool role model of how to solve problems. As you learn, so will they.

Hey John,
My friends and I were discussing our various sleep issues the other day. Five out of six of us complained about “mind racing”. That is, when the lights go out, our brains light up. Whether it’s tasks left undone, plans for the next day, or just worrying about things, they say this night time mind racing interferes with their sleep. NIGHT TIME? They are describing 90% of my life! I have imaginary family fights, imaginary school issues with the kids, even worrying about a future health crisis with my husband when he’s healthy.
Ms. Rayma
 
Dear Ms. R,
Mom and Dad, in their consistent generosity had promised us their used Oldsmobile 98. The plan was to fly from Texas to Calif., then our family of five would drive back home. Disneyland was the slated highlight of our return trip. I had even sold two great tube amplifiers to fund the trip. Then Dad threw in the curveball: he wanted us to pack in another family member to go to Disneyland. In doing so, we would be crammed like sardines AND one of the kids would be without a seatbelt. I refused. Dad got mad and threatened to jerk the car away from us. I blew a major fuse and told him to forget the whole deal, that I was calling immediately for return airlines tickets and not to expect us back in the foreseeable future. He was equally as hostile. My Mom was crying, as was my wife, both pleading for peace. Tickets in hand we furiously stormed out the next day. Then, then, then… I realized I was in my car, in my driveway, with the vacation still two weeks off. What the hell just happened? I was sweating and my face red with the beginnings of a headache. I had imagined the whole nightmare scenario! Lightning fast, my bizarro brain had created the WORST. FIGHT. EVER. I was justifiably deeply concerned about my apparent mental state.
 
[Jumping ahead a few weeks, a fight never transpired; my great Mom and Dad gave us the car as planned, and Disneyland, though very expensive, was great fun for all of us. It turned out to be a fine vacation, and a great journey back home.]
 
Why then share the incredibly bizarre and stressful imagined experience that transpired in my driveway? It was a turning point for me as I realized two separate entities were running my life. There is the Body of John, and disturbingly, the Brain of John. My brain was working and concocting weird scenarios at will, without my permission. Ever sweat it out thinking about Thanksgiving with the family that might turn out terribly- and it didn’t? Ever anticipated a horrible day at work that instead was a totally normal day? You fretted about not preparing well enough for a test, perhaps imagined the scene where you sat at your desk in a cold sweat not knowing a single answer - but instead did well?
 
There is justification for advanced worrying if the concern helps you to better prepare for the upcoming event. If one worried about looking like an idiot for a presentation to a group of people, it might help him (her) to put in some extra effort in the preparation. However, thinking what would happen if you had a blowout on the way to your presentation would seem like The Brain working on its own. Anxiety can be caused by real events. However, it can also be caused by our random thoughts that have no real basis in reality. If my clients knew how many times I’ve had to stop myself from fights taking place in my head as I shower, they might reconsider coming in seeking my assistance. However, I have discovered that these self-perpetuated mental negativities are incredibly common. I also believe that women, who seem to think personal thoughts more than men, suffer from this problem of “thought wars” more than men. What then to do about this self-imposed state of anxiety?
 
# 1:     Take careful note of how often your thoughts run away with you.  Imagining future scenarios, re-living aggravations, etc. are all included in our brain doing what it wants. This beginning step is not good for our self esteem. Sorry.
#2:      Purposely make yourself think about other stuff.  The last “anticipated” family squab I was imagining in the shower was replaced by planning each piece of electronic equipment I was in the process of spraying with a contact cleaner. It's almost impossible to make ourselves stop thinking about something. It's more successful to put another thought in its place.
#3:      Understand our weakness and the power of our brain. My fun electronic chore was accidentally lost to the imagined argument in my head.  You have to patiently and repetitively guide your thoughts over and over and over.
#4:      This skill needs a million times of practice to get good.  You need to remember to own your brain for a month, six months, ten years.

We all have plenty to worry about.  It’s a huge waste of energy to fight imaginary battles. I know part of my fervor is personal, but after so many years I still maintain something of an authority problem; I don't like to be told what to do, especially by my brain, working apparently independently of me.  So I ask: who’s in charge here- me or my soft little brain? As a result, I have a significantly reduced number of imagined anxious times by consistently guiding my thoughts.

Hey John,
I’ve got an issue with my boyfriend, and I’m not sure if it’s me being too worried, or him not doing me right. The other day he was in the shower and his phone went off. His Mom has been sick, so I looked to see if it was her. Instead it was his ex-girlfriend texting him a sexy message. John, we’ve been together for over two years, and it seems like they should be done with each other. I started to look through his other messages, and there were a bunch of sexy conversations with different people. He was being equally nasty back, and even suggesting sex stuff that he hasn’t wanted to do with me. When I confronted him, he got mad at me for snooping through his private stuff. He said he was just having fun “talking trashy” with other girls, and he hadn’t done anything wrong. When I told him I feel like he was cheating on me, he said I was over reacting. Was I?
Sad Girl
 
Dear Ms. Sad,
First off, there is a difference between trying to fix a goonball husband and a goonball boyfriend. The former is presumably worth the effort to educate and demand change in order to fix an injured marriage. The latter is potentially more difficult. Considering the sad fact that some people are on their best behavior in the early days of their relationship (as foolish as that is), boyfriend-for-two-years is already a couple of brewskies short of a six pack. I would be less than enthusiastic about future proper behavior of a boy/girlfriend who is, at the very least, unbelievably insensitive about taking good care of his mate early in the relationship. Rather than being embarrassed and apologetic about his nasty behavior, he blames you for being too sensitive? Sheesh. Are you over reacting? Actually, you're under reacting. Do you hear sirens blaring and red lights flashing? Me too. You wishing for a change of behavior obviously doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. It’s time to punt. If he’s upset, tell him to come to Texas and run for the U.S. House of Representatives. He can replace Ft. Worth’s Joe Barton’s soon to be vacant spot. He’ll fit right in.

A number of years ago a lady came in with an ongoing problem with her life. Although I talk plenty (an unusual feature for a therapist I’m told), I couldn’t get a word in edgewise with my client. The irritations were numerous: her kids were making her crazy, her husband was acting extra weirdly, her Mom was a chronic complainer, etc, etc. All were legitimate complaints, but the problems were endless. Like the mythical Hydra, when you cut off one head, two more took its place. Same with her problems. It was an endless flow of negativity. By her third appointment it seemed clear that she was using me as her sounding board: someone to complain to (and get a little temporary relief), but not to seek solutions. I asked her if she would be interested in a therapeutic experiment . It went like this: “With so much negativity in your life, it’s possible that you have become hyper-focused on all the problems you face. The experiment, or game if you will, is this: for one full day concentrate on all the things you are grateful for. When a negative thought hits your brain, you will need to take manual control of your thoughts and focus on something you are pleased about or grateful for. If you want to make it even more challenging, you can add an extra rule that if you lose control of your negative thoughts, you can do it again the next day. The purpose is two-fold: one is to call your attention to how often negative thoughts go through your head, and secondly, to teach yourself how to manually control your thoughts.” She cautiously agreed. Two weeks later she shared that the “game” had initially made her crazy. However, after a week of practice she felt immensely better and in control. Years later, she still practices her “thought control”.
 
So, I now share my private Thanksgiving therapy with you. I’m mighty glad to be living here the US of A, but I don’t feel like partying down with the pilgrims. The turkey and stuffing is cool, but it’s not enough for me anymore. So I do a personalized version of the above mentioned therapy. Simple rules of this day: no bitchin', no whining, no negativity. Rather, I remind myself, possibly 492 times throughout the day of the things I am grateful for. It's interesting that this takes a fair amount of effort, meaning I must be spending a lot of time the other 364 days complaining. Man! What's wrong wit' dat picture?! I take into serious consideration that to which I am grateful for- then I mentally roll around in it like a pig in mud. I take some time by myself, whether out back, in my room or even in the bathroom to consider points of thankfulness. Make Thanksgiving your own personal holiday and see if you can convert a formally bland or perhaps an unpleasant holiday into a joyful one. You know: Thanks giving.