A Childhood Injury Has Made My Life Harder in a Big Way. Then I Learned What Happens to Most People Who Experience It.

Dear Prudence Prudie replies to readers’ comments and suggestions. Advice by Enter your email to receive alerts for this author. Sign in or create an account to better manage your email preferences. Unsubscribe from email alerts Are you sure you want to unsubscribe from email alerts for Jenée Desmond-Harris? Oct 02, 20266:00 AM Photo illustration by Slate. Photo by oleg7799/Getty Images Plus, Giorgi Gogitidze/Getty Images Plus, and Emoji. Sign up for the Slatest to get the most insightful analysis, criticism, and advice out there, delivered to your inbox daily. Each week, Prudence asks readers for their thoughts on the letters she’s received. Her reply will be available every Friday. Hey Prudie, Re No Whine Please, I’m Disabled: One other thing I think could have been directly addressed is the letter writer’s chronic pain. While they are writing in about others’ gripes, I think we might also be seeing part of the struggle of having chronic pain. I get migraines, lots of them, likely as a product of a severe head injury as a child. I’ve tried just about every treatment anyone could offer, and I’ve never found anything that does more than make them slightly less painful, but that came with unbearable side effects, so I currently don’t take anything. At times in the past, dealing with preposterously frequent migraines made me almost suicidal. Over time, I have come to see my migraines differently. My graduate school mentor, who studied healthy aging, would regularly say something along the lines of “Growing old is a privilege too few people get” when people, usually younger students but also the elderly study participants, would get a bit gloomy about the challenges older folks often face. I have done quite a bit of reading about the kind of head injury I experienced, and what I’ve learned is this: The vast majority of kids who get hurt as I did die immediately or shortly after. As one of the few who lived, I am one of the lucky ones. My migraines aren’t going anywhere, but I have the privilege of being alive. I have an incredible wife, and a smart, funny, sweet, cool-as-could-be young daughter. My job, where I have too few days off to take leave when I get migraines, involves attempting to prevent people from developing chronic or deadly health issues. The price I must pay to have these incredible people and this meaningful life is frequent migraines. I accept that price. I hope the letter writer has incredible people and a meaningful life. I would encourage them to lean into those things. Perhaps accepting their disability and pain as the price of admission for those people and that life could help them the way it has helped me? —Just Some Guy This is a beautiful way of thinking about things. I suspect it might require something like a guided psychedelic experience for the letter writer to undergo such a powerful shift in mindset, but if they could manage to do it, it would be great. Please keep questions short (<150 words), and don’t submit the same question to multiple columns. We are unable to edit or remove questions after publication. Use pseudonyms to maintain anonymity. Your submission may be used in other Slate advice columns and may be edited for publication. Hey Prudie, To Feeling Iced Out: I was in transition, and a friend let me stay at his house. He and I were close beforehand, but when I was living there indefinitely, I felt like an intruder and tried to stay out of his way. When I finally found my own place, I wondered if I had forever ruined a lifelong friendship. I hadn’t! We went right back to being close … living in our own places. Maybe “Mara” felt, as I did, that I was already around too much. Give her another chance! I have never talked to my friend about my time living there, because things bounced back, though sometimes I wonder if he felt the same way. I’m sure she’s grateful for the offer to stay with you. But it’s hard to accept help. —I Might’ve Been Mara Interesting! Maybe the friend really thought the letter writer was sick of her and wanted space. Turning down invitations to hang out feels like a weird response to that, but you never know. Hey Prudie, Re Saddened By Loss of Friendship: I had a close friend for many years. We would see each other multiple times a week, shared deepest confidences, were each other’s go-to dog sitters (we each have dogs), I threw her baby showers and was one of the first people to meet her daughters when they were born, and this friend HANDMADE all the bouquets and floral arrangements for my wedding (she offered as her gift to me!). And then she just up and ghosted me about two years ago. She was slow to return texts, canceled plans, and didn’t offer to reschedule, etc. I did ask if anything was wrong, and she claimed no, “just busy.” Then my sister passed away last year—this friend liked and knew my sister well. I didn’t post anything on social media about my sister’s passing, but this friend did like some other random social media post of mine about six months ago. So I reached out to her via text and told her about my sister. She sent me a really lovely return text with her condolences. I suggested we take a walk the following week. She said that sounded good, and that she’d get back to me. Never heard from her again. A mutual friend of ours ran into ghosting friend, and my name came up. Ghosting friend said, “Oh, I know about VeggiePup’s sister. So sad. I owe VeggiePup a call.” That was two months ago. Radio silence. Anyway, I tell this story because sometimes people just up and disappear from our lives. And we never get “closure.” That’s OK. Moving on with no closure is something we all have to do at different times in our lives, or we’ll get stuck. There’s a saying: “A friend for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.” Ghosting friend and I were clearly friends for a season only. A long season, but nevertheless a season. I honestly wish her well and concentrate on the friends who DO show up for me. Take care of yourself, LW. —VeggiePup I can’t imagine how hard it is to live without knowing the reason for the ghosting, but it sounds like you handled your situation perfectly. Hey Prudie, Re Square Peg: My in-laws drive me insane. They are bossy, loud, and critical. We host virtually all of the holidays because our house is large and centrally located, and because our kids and I have the major meal prep and cleanup thing down (thanks, Mom and Grandma!). After the dishes have been cleared, I move to the rec room and turn on whatever football game looks good. I know that within 10 minutes or so my brothers-in-law (husbands of my sisters-in-law) will join me, along with other kids and niblings who find the raucous in-laws less than pleasant. We usually have a fun after-party catching up. Some of us will walk the dog or grab a coffee, while the in-laws get their (needed) time together. Are there other people present similarly situated with your husband who might enjoy a breather from the chaos? —KKSeatle Great idea. I love that you’ve figured out a way to not just tolerate but host people you don’t like and have a decent time! Hey Prudie, Re The Over It Neighbor: I might suggest a cover your ass move in addition to attempting to grey rock and disengage with your elderly neighbors. These people seem like people who escalate when being ignored, and it’s possible that you’ll end up in a situation where a third party will be called (rightly or wrongly) to intervene (HOA members, lawyer, authorities). Since you’re in contact with their adult children—and they are sympathetic to your experience at the hands of their own parents—casually, without threatening them, inform them of their parents’ escalation tactics. Find a way to casually inform them that your husband is the president of the HOA, and that their parents seem to need help extra help since they’re insisting you check on them more. Do it all very kindly with a smile on your face and “concern” in your voice. Ideally, their adult children will start to intervene and deal with the situation. If not, do whatever you need to do to protect your sanity and serenity. —Brown-Eyed Girl Oh God. I didn’t think about things escalating in this way. But CYA is never a bad idea. Classic Prudie Years ago, I shared inside info with a best friend about my marriage. My husband was taking advantage of me during this time. She (my friend) was a good listener and very empathetic. I hosted a summer holiday which my girlfriend and her husband attended. She lit into him about how she didn’t care for him and confronted his behaviors. I thought she understood the “girlfriend code.” I assumed she knew the things I had shared with her were in confidence, meaning between ME and HER. It was a disaster, and we weren’t as close afterwards… Advice Dear Prudence