BEL MOONEY: The world is so darkish… what can I do to lighten my temper?
Dear Bel,
How can I avoid feeling fearful about the future? Last week, in a light-hearted And Finally, you seemed to dismiss gloom and anxiety after the Labour victory in the election, because you said you’d seen it all before — or words to that effect!
I’m about 20 years younger than you are (please don’t take that as insulting) and so maybe feel more invested in the future and not so much in the past.
You write your solution is ‘open the good wine and make the best of it’ which is fun and perfectly good advice. But it just doesn’t touch the level of pessimism I’m feeling.
With horror, I read about the levels of abuse suffered by Labour MP Jess Phillips and her supporters by Islamic thugs — and feel my rage mounting that people who may share similar views are now sitting in the Commons. Have we left it too late to do anything about these vicious, misogynistic sectarians who pollute our politics and our country?
I’m not kidding when I say that my loathing of those extremists, and my deep-seated feeling that everything is now going to get worse, keeps me awake at night. I didn’t want to vote Reform last week — but can see why people did.
Why am I so full of gloom, when the election is over and we have no choice but to accept the result? Why this feeling of helpless despair?
I dread my teenage daughter going off to university next year and being brainwashed by woke ideas and then coming home and quarrelling with me. Don’t you think a lot of people keep schtum for a quiet life and the fear of being called racist? How can I stop myself feeling so miserable and pessimistic?
HEIDI
Bel Mooney replies: You pepper me with questions hoping I might have answers, but I admit from the bottom of my heart that it’s hard. Very hard.
Last week’s And Finally was in fact written before the results of the General Election was a foregone conclusion. So I was just making the point that when you reach a grand old age you really have ‘seen it all before’ and so perhaps don’t get so worked up (either with euphoria or gloom) as those who believe the end of the world is now at hand because we have a Labour government.
Your letter came to me via Facebook, rather than our Mail office (which is fine, although I do prefer my office email to be used), and right now I’m finding that reading too many posts (especially anti-Israel ones) on that platform increases my own low spirits.
If that’s the case with you too, then why not try what I’m about to do and leave social media, at least for a month? It might help your mood.
These are early days with a new government and, inevitably, many ups and downs lie ahead. That being the case the question is how to relax and accept a political situation over which you have no control.
You could be like all the pro-EU fanatics who have been crying about the referendum result since 2016 — in other words, never accept the result you don’t like. Or somehow encourage yourself to remember the Serenity Prayer which, though popular, is no empty cliché.
Some words are full of wisdom, no matter how many times we hear them: ‘God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.’
Please don’t think I’m dismissing your mood or your questions, many of which I echo every day. I share your loathing of extremists, the silence of those who are terrified of being called racist, and your worries about what goes on in our universities — but I refuse to let such matters keep me from sleep.
I didn’t vote for this government but, because I love our country, I wish them well. What else can one do?
Since 2020 I have lost both my parents, seen the country all but ruined by a lockdown which should never have been imposed, and experienced some terrible family issues which made me ill — and can still keep me awake at night. Perspective is essential.
Your final question is heartfelt. Many thousands must look out of the window and find the grey skies reflecting their private moods. I can only suggest you keep active: garden, walk, dance, shop, draw — or whatever it is that can absorb your attention.
Brooding on things you can’t possibly change only leads to more unhappiness.
Yes, it’s vital to feel engaged with politics, and you have every right to feel angry at aspects of life (you mention the thuggish Islamists) that have been forced on us.
But it’s a mistake to allow that negativity to take over and spoil your everyday interactions with other people, especially close family. So I unashamedly seize on pleasure when I can. That’s why I’d clink a glass with you.
Our son’s wife is poisoning family life
Dear Bel,
I wrote a couple of years ago about a wedding issue. I followed your advice and attended and it passed without incident.
Two years on, I felt I was regaining the closeness with my granddaughter. At 30, she’s pregnant. Yesterday we chatted about meeting, but she was busy today with people round at hers.
Tonight a family photo appeared on Facebook. Taken today, it includes many family members. But not us. I cannot express the hurt.
I rang my son, asked what I’d done to be excluded? He didn’t reply and I was too emotional to continue the call. Then I rang my granddaughter to ask the same thing but it went to voicemail. Then came a message from my daughter-in-law, calling me cruel for upsetting her daughter.
My daughter-in- law demands total attention from my son and is not happy if he calls to see us.
Her mother was unpleasant and domineering and earlier this year he said she was turning into her mother. Honestly, I never thought I’d hear my son say, ‘I’m not allowed . . .’
I don’t know how this dreadful situation can be improved or righted. I guess I won’t get to see the baby when he’s born. I hope you can give me advice.
RUTH
Bel Mooney replies: It was easy to find your first letter and I’m glad you felt able to take my advice back then, that you had a perfectly OK time at your granddaughter’s wedding, and that matters within your family have caused you little anxiety since.
But now you are in a terrible state once more, because of a perceived slight. My every sympathy is with you, but I fear your susceptibility to hurt from a family which doesn’t seem to care very much is only going to make you ill. The only way forward is to find a strategy for dealing with them.
Your letter in 2022 didn’t emphasise problems with your daughter-in-law but this time your uncut email acknowledges they were at the core of your problems.
This is an all-too-common issue. If a woman is at odds with her husband’s mother it’s pretty easy to guess who will ‘triumph’. Over the years I’ve had countless letters from older women in despair because sons seem to do just what hostile wives demand. And here you are — another one.
Men always seem to want an easy life — and all the more so if their wives are assertive or (worse) domineering. It was ever thus. People protest when I say there is usually nothing to be done — except capitulate.
Yet surely the path of wisdom is to ask yourself what exactly is at stake. If you have to bite the bullet and cultivate a sort of zen-like calmness in order to have access to family events, isn’t that worthwhile?
You are very sensitive to words as well as actions, which makes you easily hurt. I wish I could protect you from that within yourself which seems to (forgive me) erupt and text and leave phone messages when you feel slighted — all of which is likely to make other family members push you away even more. Please understand that I’m on your side. But torturing yourself with, ‘I guess I won’t get to see the baby when he’s born’ is pouring flames on the fire of your own passionate sense of rejection.
Please try to swallow your pride as well as your pain, and be much calmer. Don’t make yourself your daughter-in-law’s victim by leaving hurt messages, which she will see as provocation. Stop expecting your son to put you first, incurring his wife’s irritation. It’s too late for that. Wean yourself off looking at family pages on Facebook.
If I were you, I would tell myself that it will be lovely when you can meet your first great-grandchild, and let that be the message you convey to your family, drawing a firm line under this unfortunate episode.
