BEL MOONEY: My mother died and my sister has committed terrible wrongs against me. What’s the point of going on?

Dear Bel,

I’m completely stuck. My sorrow knows no end and every day I wish I were dead. I live with chronic pain day and night. My mother died two years ago; we were so close and i miss her every minute.

My only family is my sister – older and self-centered. She won’t help me with anything unless I pay her, which I have done in the past. In fact, I am now in debt because I have to rescue her from a situation too complicated to describe here.

Suffice it to say, I’m grieving for my mother and just can’t move on. Nor can I forgive my sister for the terrible mistakes she has committed.

My physical needs are increasing and she doesn’t care; I don’t see or hear from her from month to month, and yet she lives a two-minute walk away. I’m only here when she has a crisis or needs something (like money).

I do have friends, but they have their own families and are busy. So this life has absolutely no meaning. I am 50 and can no longer work. In fact, there’s little I can do these days other than think. And that makes it even worse.

I’m afraid of falling and walking isn’t great, so I need someone with me when I go out. That’s why I’m hardly ever outside.

I don’t want to sound like I’m feeling sorry for myself, but I’ve had enough of this life. It makes no sense anymore. I read your column every week and respect your opinion very much. What do you think?

LINDA

Bel Mooney replies: Thank you for your respect, although it is heartbreaking to read about your sadness, disillusionment and despair – all expressed so succinctly.

You don’t tell me why you have chronic pain, what treatment you receive, whether your mother lived with you until her death, or whether your sister paid attention to your deceased mother.

I wish I knew those things, but it doesn’t matter. . . I’ll try to work with what I have, and since you’re a regular reader you can probably guess that I’ll try positivity. Even though I recognize how difficult that is.

It’s no surprise that you’re still grieving for your beloved mother, and I suspect you don’t really want to move on.

Grief can provide a strange comfort: a security to rest on when the rest of life seems hopeless. But it shifts and changes, you know, and the morning may come when you look out the window, notice the blue of the sky, breathe deeply and feel the spirit of your loved one urging you on to live. And it’s important to make that happen.

Of course it will be much harder for you because of the close relationship with your mother and because you live with chronic pain; nevertheless, I only ask you to consider the possibility that sadness and despair can change.

I wonder what causes your sister to be the way she is. Was she jealous of your close relationship with your mother?

It shocks me that she should expect payment for everything she did on your behalf.

I’m certainly not going to urge you to forgive her, but I will ask you to stop expecting her to be different. The more you expect from her, the more you will get hurt again.

Now coming to your point about friends. You’ve convinced yourself that you can’t rely on them because “they have their own families and they’re busy.” But how can you be sure that a negative statement is true?

I think your intense grief for your mother and your anger at your sister caused you to withdraw. One of the most generous things we can do for others is to let them know that we need them, care about them, and enjoy their company. I think you should do this as soon as possible. You’re stuck, so you have to leave the house.

One of these friends would certainly love to make it a regular outing. I understand mobility issues and the fear of falling, so suggest you equip yourself with a set of Nordic poles for balance.

They are a godsend for walkers and also make you look athletic. Consider them an essential tool that will help you on the path to friendships, to better health and to the realization that life, no matter how painful, is definitely worth living.

How do we tell a friend that his driving is unsafe?

Dear Bel,

We are a group that meets every week and sings together and one of us, in our early sixties, offers lifts to others.

But his driving is dangerous; he accelerates and has little control over the vehicle.

A guy who was in the car with him recently had to go to bed for two hours when he got home, and I also have personal experience with his erratic driving. He had two accidents near his home due to very careless parking.

This may sound humorous, but it really isn’t. He gives lifts to older members and – even though I fear for their safety – I realize they would miss out on outings and events if he didn’t make the offer.

It has been suggested that the group draw lots and that person has a chat with the man.

This would go down like a lead balloon in so many ways; no one would want to do it and it can seem patronizing to the elderly who are most affected.

His brother (who lives far away) doesn’t see him often and would be a neutral person to bring up the subject. It seems we have reached an impasse. What would you suggest?

CHRIS

Bel Mooney replies: It certainly wouldn’t be “humorous” if one of your friends got hurt in a prang.

Being a passenger in a poorly driven car can be absolutely terrifying, especially if the driver is talking and gesturing all the time. This is an example of a small problem that can have major consequences.

I think involving his brother is a complete non-starter. That includes drawing lots to choose the brave person who will tell it like it is. Mr. Speedy gets blown up or just bluffs it out; either way, it’s sure to make things worse.

And isn’t it rather ‘patronizing’ to the elderly who need a lift to assume that they have no opinion or choice on the matter?

Have you asked everyone what they feel? If they all say they hate the scary elevators, then the choice is theirs or yours (plural) to suggest an alternative. Another friendly person with a car should get in, in which case the needy passenger is encouraged to say to Mr. Speedy, “You’ve been kind enough to drive so far, but honestly you’re just going too fast for me.”

Go for the simple option.

Silence is the best way to handle a sulker!

Dear Bel

My husband and I have been married for 55 years and in that time we have had the same problem over and over again.

I say or do something to annoy him and he won’t talk to me again for a day or so. Then when he gets over it, he starts talking to me again as if nothing happened. He won’t tell me what the problem is and says we should just forget about it and move on.

I don’t think it’s fair to punish me if I don’t know what I’m being accused of (even criminals are told what crime they committed). But when I say I want to know what I did, he tells me I’m prolonging it and should just let it go.

Am I being unreasonable in wanting to know, or is his attitude better and I should just ‘let it go’?

BEA

Bel Mooney replies: How I hate a sulker! My late father had this tendency, so I know it’s no joke if the atmosphere is poisoned.

My poor mother was often right, but sometimes I just knew she had deliberately cheated on him. She knew exactly which buttons to press. Such are the complexities of marriage – which can be one of the toughest tests of endurance that any of us face.

So here’s the problem. I find it kind of hard to believe that after 55 years of marriage you have absolutely no idea what you “said or did to annoy him.” Can this really be true? Don’t you have even the slightest idea of ​​what caused his long face? And could it be that when you interrogate him, you simply give him a “result” that he secretly intended? His silent treatment was effective. Victory!

I think it’s more effective to pretend nothing happened. After all, silence can be golden and endless post-mortems can be grueling. Personally, I would just smile and relax – because it will all be over soon enough, just like life itself.