Friday, May 29, 2009


I just noticed again this morning--definitely not the first time for me, and probably not even for you, gentle reader--that my blogroll is populated mainly with defunct or long-silent blogs. That is the price you pay for continuing to blog but not really continuing to spend the time to read a lot of other people's posts.

When I started out in Blogworld, I started by reading whole blogs at a sitting; I was even stupid enough to cut and paste the entries so that I could read them like a book. [I was even stupider: I gave the books and URLs to my wife, but I'll pass over that one for the moment.] Now, I check in with my still-posting regulars and whatever other blogs they send me to, but I basically don't read much.

I don't post much, either.

There is clearly a similar dynamic at work across the board. People who are conflicted and in the middle of an intolerable mess, or just plain crazy from not having anyone to talk to, talk on and on and on. People who have sort come out the other side and get their lives in order stop blogging and get on with their lives. Good for them.

[And since I should be in the same boat, the question really is: why am I still blogging? I've asked this question a number of times before... It can't be because I am that dependent on my seven followers and the five or six other humans who occasionally drop in to see what's going on.]

But I can't help wondering what happened to my BlogBrothers once they stopped posting. It's the "vampire in me"; I got used to knowing about their lives, and now I don't. Their gain, my loss.

In some parallel universe, I would be working on my counseling credentials by haunting all the new GMM blogs and offering sage advice. The problem is that I don't have the time. Well, no--the problem is that I really only have one thing to say: no one but you two can figure out where this is going and how to get there. And having once said that, I quit.

But I no longer feel that's the whole story. I still have the scars from all the well-meaning but hateful comments assuring me that there was only one possible ending to my own story. But now I am inclined to believe much of what my vulture-readers told me. Nine times out of ten, they are probably right: eventually, things will reach the point where even the most accommodating woman will decide she's had enough, and if you [we] have any heart at all, you [we] will see that it's time to cut her losses [not yours] and make up your mind one way or the other.

But I insist that either option is feasible. And that one time out of ten, a couple may in fact find a way to cope with what seems like an essentially intolerable situation. In at least one case I know, it works because the wife doesn't want to believe what she really knows in her bones, and as long as it's not said, she can go on living. And her husband loves her a lot--so he wants her to go on living, and wants to go on living with her. I understand all of that; I just don't have the intestinal fortitude to cover up [deny] the truth like that. I suffered enough when my in-laws all refused to acknowledge that my father-in-law was dying--everyone in the family but Isis refused to recognize what was visibly, tangibly, incontrivertibly going on in front of our eyes, and it drove the two of us to the brink of insanity.

I couldn't live with that inside a marriage...

So here I am, giving the vultures their due. I just don't want to be one.

Hang in there, guys.
What else can we do?


  1. It's a story we've seen before and we already know the ending. Things may end with different twists in the story, but basically the same bad ending.

  2. T@C, living with truth and authenticity is important to life to my life, anyway. I have judged others too quickly sometimes, but it seems best to leave them to their own discernments, supporting as best we can.

    Welcome is more important than "I told you so."

  3. Interesting indeed .. Over time I authored two blogs. My first I haven't revisited in years. The second just died over time. Actually though, I made a few cherished friendships along the way -- only by reaching out from blogland. But, time moves on.

    Troll -- I used to have a very hard time trying to make sense of what you wrote. But I'd like to think that I'll continuing reading as long as you continue writing.

    Those "well-meaning but hateful comments," I'm hoping you're not just talking about some of mine. I've never meant to be hateful.

  4. Gosh, Paul. I should have said, "present company excluded."

    No, it's the people who try to cut to the chase and give the poor guy stuck in the race the end results when he's still coming around the mid-point curves.

    That's where my own reticence comes from: I just don't want to be one of the cheerleaders for either team.

    RB: I don' buy it. The ending is never the same because it doesn't ever involve the same two [or if you're unlucky, three or more] people. And even if you were right, I can't see the point of telling people bad news they don't need, and can't handle yet in any case...