For when you're actually NOT okay - let me fix it for you

OK. I'm the LAST person who would object to someone trying to help when someone else is "actually not okay"

As someone who has BEEN "actually not okay" more times than I care to admit (but I'll admit it right now), I can tell you that many, many times I wish someone had been there to at least acknowledge my not-okayness, let alone offer me a little bit of comfort.

And maybe I'm the only person in the universe who feels this way: but - BLUGGHHH! This is the stupidest, most self-righteous, trite, patronizing thing I've ever seen!

This is called A Self-Care Printable, an apparently new phenomenon in self-help It contains a questionnaire for people who are Actually Not Okay. Whether this means they FEEL "not okay" or actually aren't OK (whatever that means) is never spelled out. "Not okay" is, after all, a pretty loaded term. 

I know it's not written by a professional, any more than those sappy, comforting memes with sparkly kittens on them are. It's written by somebody who wants to Go Viral. And the hell of it is - it works.

This has to be the most trivializing - but I digress. It's "someone out there", we don't even know who they are, but They Care - that much is obvious. No, wait a minute - they don't "care", they want to fix you so that you no longer feel you're "actually not okay", and won't burden anyone else by talking about it.

"Self-care printables" never did turn my crank, mainly because before this moment, when I found this earnestly posted on Facebook (under the title I'm Going to Help Someone Right Now Because I Know A Lot Better Than They Do), I didn't know what a self-care printable WAS. Nobody prints things any more anyway, do they? Unless they don't have the moral strength to stagger to the computer and turn it on.

But now comes this.

I've known people who were seriously suicidal. Hell, I've BEEN seriously suicidal before, and I've survived it, mainly by the teeth-gritting/stubbornness method, because it's been my experience that no one else can stand to step inside the abyss of loneliness and despair that is suicidal depression. You're in it alone.

You've got to walk that lonesome valley. You've got to walk it by yourself. That is the nature of the disease. That is what it IS. And it applies every bit as much to those celebrated professionals: even more so, since the average person with serious mental illness is misdiagnosed an average of sixteen times (with a good many of those diagnoses being dismissals. My absolute, all-time favorite was "go home and behave yourself!").

But in any case, real human help, mano a mano, professional or ludicrously UN-professional like this thing, could never come in the form of asking a suicidal person if they're "hydrated". Sorry, no one overcame their existential despair by popping a water bottle.

But that's what passes for "help" in 2015, on social media, on Facebook or Twitter or wherever, and it explains much about alienation and "expert-ism" as a way of life, and as a way of insulating yourself from someone else's pain.

For, you see, if you're the expert, if you have the answer as to what that person should be doing to fix their state of "actually not okay-ness", it puts you in the position of power, of strength, of expertise. Just try this! Better now?

That means you don't really need to get involved in it at all. You don't need to listen. You don't need to feel empathy or compassion or step into their messy lives. You just need to Fix It. But at the same time, you can pretend to identify on a surface level - I had a bad day once, too! - and feel really good about yourself for offering so much generous, helpful help.

I am convinced that 90% of people's efforts to "help" others are fix-it oriented and a means to stay insulated from another person's pain.

And if they don't get better? They're just not doing it right. Look, I tried, but if that's your attitude - if you really don't want anyone to help you -

Anyway. Since this blog is largely satire, I will hereby insert my highly-satiric-but-deeply-heartfelt answers to the blue-lettered questionnaire with its head-patting, run-along-and-get-some-yogurt-and-you'll-feel-better tone.

For When You’re Actually NOT Okay: A Self-Care Printable

“Everything is awful and I’m not okay: questions to ask before giving up.”

(Let us assume, as a given, that "giving up" means killing yourself. To be honest, I don't know what else it could mean.)

Are you hydrated? If not, have a glass of water.

I can't find the freaking water because of all the blood on the kitchen floor. I keep slipping and falling down before I get to the fridge.

Have you eaten in the past three hours? If not, get some food — something with protein, not just simple carbs. Perhaps some nuts or hummus?

I did that, but I kept throwing up the hummus. Maybe it was all those pills I mixed in. 

Have you showered in the past day? If not, take a shower right now.

I love the assumptions they make about my personal hygiene! Not that they stereotype depressed people - oh, no. Never mind that the huge majority of depressed people make themselves function, and disguise it so well that nobody even suspects it. Let's just assume I don't shower. I like smelling just as disgusting and awful as you are implying I do. I am just as big a slob as that question indicates. Not only that - I need to be reminded of it because I either don't know, or I don't care enough to make myself socially acceptable.
 
If daytime: are you dressed? If not, put on clean clothes that aren’t pajamas. Give yourself permission to wear something special, whether it’s a funny t-shirt or a pretty dress.

I used my funny tshirt for a noose, but it didn't hold for some reason. Poor Hello Kitty. And by the way, does this "pretty dress" business apply to men? Doesn't this person know that putting on a dress may be part of the problem? Transvestites and transsexuals often have a hard time of it in our culture. Or maybe the assumption is this: only a girl/woman could get herself into such a deplorable state. Guys are basically all right, or else they know how to ACT all right and not fall into a stinking, unkempt mess, refusing to get dressed or bathe out of self-pity and ceasing to make an effort.

If nighttime: are you sleepy and fatigued but resisting going to sleep? Put on pajamas, make yourself cozy in bed with a teddy bear and the sound of falling rain, and close your eyes for fifteen minutes — no electronic screens allowed. If you’re still awake after that, you can get up again; no pressure.
 
Oh! No pressure? You mean it can take as long as I want to kill myself? Can I do it nice and slow then, with my fuzzy-wuzzy teddy bear squeezed tightly in my arms? Will the sound of falling rain drown out the screaming worthlessness in my soul? Or the sirens? Sorry, they're not here yet, but they will be soon.

 
Have you stretched your legs in the past day? If not, do so right now. If you don’t have the spoons for a run or trip to the gym, just walk around the block, then keep walking as long as you please. If the weather’s crap, drive to a big box store (e.g. Target) and go on a brisk walk through the aisles you normally skip.
 
My legs are being stretched on a rack. I just heard the bones shatter.
 
Have you said something nice to someone in the past day? Do so, whether online or in person. Make it genuine; wait until you see something really wonderful about someone, and tell them about it.
 
Seriously. Saying something "nice" to someone is supposed to keep me from committing suicide. But it has to be genuine! What language is this person speaking? Since when does an "actually NOT okay" person "on the verge of giving up" have the strength or the inclination to "say something nice" to anyone at all? If your mouth opens, pain comes out, not My Little Pony. It's trite advice like this that stops people from doing that immediate cure-all, "reaching out for help". If THIS is the quality of the help, I'd rather not reach out for it at all.

Have you moved your body to music in the past day? If not, do so — jog for the length of an EDM song at your favorite BPM, or just dance around the room for the length of an upbeat song.
 
Have you ever been depressed, whoever you are? Do you know what the word "inertia" means? Have you ever heard the phrase, "if I could get out of bed, I would"? Have you ever felt insulted by someone's implication that you could "beat the blues" and not feel suicidal any more just by doing a few simple, fluffy things that (of course, because you're too self-pitying) you never thought of doing before?

Also, I guess this advice is only for people who know what EDM and BPM mean. I don't. It's that whispering on the playground thing again, the secret language which winnows out the old. The old aren't worth saving or even comforting: they're on the obsolete pile anyway and don't deserve sparkly teddy bears, rain on the roof and the reviving magic of hydration.
 
Have you cuddled a living being in the past two days? If not, do so. Don’t be afraid to ask for hugs from friends or friends’ pets. Most of them will enjoy the cuddles too; you’re not imposing on them.
 
My landlord didn't like it. Neither did my boss or the postman. After that, I ran out of living beings. No one else can deal with me, you see. It's uncomfortable if someone isn't cheerful and saying nice things all the time.

 
Do you feel ineffective? Pause right now and get something small completed, whether it’s responding to an e-mail, loading up the dishwasher, or packing your gym bag for your next trip. Good job!

When I read crap like this, I feel ineffective, but PLEASE don't take it personally.  Oh and by the way, thank you so much for saying "good job!" like you'd do to a preschooler! I've also seen it in dog obedience school, and it's very effective. Just. . . don't try it on me. Didn't I just tell you I'm an adult, or at least old?
 
Do you feel unattractive? Take a selfie. Your friends will remind you how great you look, and you’ll fight society’s restrictions on what beauty can look like.

This is just - this is jaw-dropping, sorry, I have nothing to say about this! I didn't write it, by the way, this is not a satire, it's a real thing that people post and re-post and write thousands of comments about. It fills me with a mixture of panic and despair.  Again, there is a gigantic assumption that anyone with any degree of depression "feels unattractive". It is a very short step from this to "looks like a mess" or "no longer cares". The "fighting society's restrictions on what beauty can look like" is a La Brea tar pit of assumption: in other words, even if you look like shit, you can CHALLENGE that assumption that you look like shit and forge a whole new standard of "beauty"! And of course, everyone must be Beautiful. It goes without saying.

"Do you feel unattractive? Take a selfie" might just win the Ignobel prize for terrible-but-typical psychological counsel in 2015. Take a selfie is just as potent in this day and age as "take a Valium" was 40 years ago.
 
Do you feel paralyzed by indecision? Give yourself ten minutes to sit back and figure out a game plan for the day. If a particular decision or problem is still being a roadblock, simply set it aside for now, and pick something else that seems doable. Right now, the important part is to break through that stasis, even if it means doing something trivial.

Who ARE you, and why is everyone so slavishly listening to everything you say? Do you realize that in the dark pit of your soul, you know nothing, and no one is interested in anything you have to say? Furthermore, do you realize that if you had to live inside a truly depressed person's head for even one day, or perhaps one hour, you would run screaming?

 
Have you seen a therapist in the past few days? If not, hang on until your next therapy visit and talk through things then.

I love the automatic assumption that anyone who ever feels "actually not okay" needs a therapist/sees one. They're just that kind of person, you know? They're "troubled people", they "see therapists", they'll never really be part of the rest of us. But that's OK, that's good, it means we have the opportunity to hand out tons of gratuitous advice! It's good to be target-oriented, isn't it? Targets are always a good thing.
 
Have you been over-exerting yourself lately — physically, emotionally, socially, or intellectually? That can take a toll that lingers for days. Give yourself a break in that area, whether it’s physical rest, taking time alone, or relaxing with some silly entertainment.

Reading this is enough, though too silly and disturbing  to qualify as entertainment.
 
Have you changed any of your medications in the past couple of weeks, including skipped doses or a change in generic prescription brand? That may be screwing with your head. Give things a few days, then talk to your doctor if it doesn’t settle down.

While I love the immediate assumption that anyone who ever feels bad is "on meds" because they can't cope like a normal person, I think this is laying it on a little thick. "Your medications"? It's like saying "your knee" or "your elbow" - a given. It's obvious you just assume you are talking to a psych patient. No one else would read or even NEED directions like this. Isn't it obvious it isn't meant for anybody "normal"? So fuck the cozy fuzzy-wuzzy teddy bear cures. I am about to fly into a psychotic rage!!

 
Have you waited a week? Sometimes our perception of life is skewed, and we can’t even tell that we’re not thinking clearly, and there’s no obvious external cause. It happens. Keep yourself going for a full week, whatever it takes, and see if you still feel the same way then.

"Wait a week" - now what could they mean? Wait for what? All the fuzzy jammies and recordings of rain on the roof can't disguise the fact that this is a totally patronizing, warm-fuzzy and lamentably unprofessional attempt at suicide prevention. I think the author of this Self-Care Printable should work in an ER for a week - a day, maybe! - or a psychiatric outpatient clinic, and listen to the despair and maybe bandage up a few slashed arms or try to pump out stomachs. Or talk to some cops about some of the things they find, cutting people down. But it's really a lot easier to hand out fuzzy blankets to imaginary "really not okay" people. It fixes them right up.

Oh, and one more thing. The voice in this thing is in the form of "you-questions", but all of a sudden it can change to "our (perception of life)": the "Royal we", or the "we" assumed by extremely patronizing persons who feign identification (such as doctors). "Now we don't want to do anything foolish, do we?"

It's the lack of respect. That's all. But it passes for help. Maybe it actually helps people - I don't know. But to me, anyone who would benefit from this kind of help doesn't really need it, because they already feel more or less OK. Not about to "give up" - whatever that may mean.

You’ve made it this far, and you will make it through. You are stronger than you think.

  Visit Margaret's Amazon Author Page!

http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K7NGDA

"Take my advice, I'm not using it"

Another journal entry. I get inspired in the morning and run off at the keyboard with my personal philosophy.

May 9/15

Saturday again; beautiful again. I don’t know. I keep telling myself I should be more unhappy, or not happy with what I have. All these people who continually exhort you to be happy with what you have: do they need to say it to you, or to themselves? And even if it’s to you, why are they so compelled to say it? What business is it of theirs what another person does? Are they so affronted by people who AREN’T happy with what they have? Do they have to be checked and corrected by someone with an obviously superior world view?

Why are we constantly being told how we should feel, how we should think? In the trivializing age of Facebook, etc., it’s even worse, with memes and other spiritual sound bites abounding, most of them patently untrue. It’s never “This is what I believe” or even “this is what I think you should do”, it’s “DO THIS”, as if the words are being passed down on high from Mount Olympus.

For God’s sake, don’t ask for anything beyond what you have already! At the same time, you can have absolutely anything you want in life if you try hard enough! (OK then, my order is in: 5 million dollars and a palomino pony.) And how about this one: never quit! Never quit! This is one of the most self-limiting things a person can practice, because sometimes quitting is the most liberating thing a person can do. It can release you from the shackles of trying, and trying, and trying, and feeling like a miserable failure because you “can’t succeed”, and what’s the matter with you anyway, shouldn’t you be able to have anything you want if you just try hard enough (and keep trying, and keep trying)?

I’ve known people who’ve gotten divorced, and when they tell their friends and relatives, it’s either “Oh NO!” (as in, a tornado just destroyed my house), or ‘Oh, nooooo. . . “ as in “my cat just got run over”, or – it’s harder to describe this “oh no”, but it’s a combination of grief, disappointment and bewildered judgement, as in “how in hell could YOU have let this happen?” These people, and that means most people, see it as a failure and even an unmitigated tragedy.

And there’s an even worse one, a sort of appalled, horrified silence, sort of like “my son was caught masturbating in class”. They just don’t know what to say.

So what of the people who have been in a miserable relationship for years and years, have felt alienated and alone, have fought bitterly and without hope of resolution, have endured infidelities and physical and emotional abuse from their partners? I’m afraid it’s still “nooooooo” from most people, because they have no idea what was going on, OR, they had full knowledge of what was going on and felt they should still stay together for the sake of the children. Or maybe they just weren’t trying hard enough.

Walking away from anything is a failure, even if, after walking away, you find the love of your life and are happy for the first time in your life. No, stay stuck, it’s more noble, and for God's sake keep your problems to yourself because talking about them, or even admitting you have them and couldn’t tolerate them any more, makes your friends and relatives deeply uncomfortable.

And that brings me to this point: gratuitous advice. Why are we supposed to be so grateful when someone throws buckets of unsolicited advice at us, when we either haven’t asked for it or have maybe asked them one small, simple question? This demonstrates several things. One, the advice-giver believes their view of things is far superior to yours, and by extension, you’re pretty incompetent at what you do and need to be set straight. Two, that you should be grateful for these stone tablets, even if you’re being  hit over the head with them. Three, that your obvious failure is an affront to them and, yes, makes them very uncomfortable. Buckets of advice douse this ineffectual, smoldering fire. Or so they think.

Advice-giving and homilies are a great way to shut someone up, usually someone suffering grief and pain. Here, have this, it’ll solve everything. You may go away now. Your grief and pain has just been corrected. I should know; I have never experienced anything like that! “Hmm, well, I'm glad that never happens to me. Here’s what you should do.”

It is the very rare person who can receive your pain, and do you know what? We usually have to pay them. Even then, real help is a dicey proposition because most therapists go by the book and say very trite things so they can congratulate THEMSELVES on what a great job they’re doing. And if your dismay and even anger persist, well then, you just have a lousy attitude and should correct yourself and adjust to the therapeutic environment. I'm giving you all this help, and you’re not “co-operating”, which means you're just innately self-destructive.  Sorry, I can’t treat you any more if you’re not willing to change.

I won’t get into such trite crap as “everything happens for a reason” (a baby dying of leukemia? School shootings? Al-Qaeda? The Third Reich? I could go on.) It’s almost as bad as "it's all part of God’s plan” (something someone said to me when my son’s roommate was murdered, his head kicked in in a parking lot by two "friends" after a bar fight). Or, worst of all, “God never gives us more than we can handle.”

Oh yes? Have you ever heard of suicide, or are “those people” outside the human pale?  I knew a lady who liked to say, “Our prisons and psychiatric hospitals are full of people who had more than they could handle.”

But hey.  I never have more than I can handle, so I can inflict this philosophy on you with impugnity. In fact, having “helped” you this way, I can dust off my hands and carry on, free from having to stare into the grief-stricken eyes of a fellow human being in genuine human pain.

  Visit Margaret's Amazon Author Page!

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SHUT UP!: Advice for New Writers

So what do I have to report? I get pulled back and forth – or in several directions, at least – between setting up a cleanly organized, professional-looking blog (and they DO impress me sometimes) and the scrapbookish/bulletin-board-like mess I choose to keep. It is tenderly attended to and fed regularly, which I always think is the best/main thing about a blog. There is nothing worse than eagerly following a link, and finding out the last post is dated 2011.

But I always read these strident exhortations (mainly on Facebook) to never do the things I regularly do, i. e. have inconsistencies in it, stray from the (single) topic, and (gasp, horrors) use different fonts! One “how-to” article even listed specific fonts one must NEVER use, and most of them were fonts I use all the time. I use different fonts because I love different fonts. I match the font to the tone of the article. Why not? Am I selling widgets or am I selling chunks of my soul?

Most of my posts get fewer than 20 views, and I only have 39 followers, pathetic really, in fact I think it's the worst I've ever seen for a long-running blog, but I have to stop and think what it would take to get more views. Homogenize. Emphasize publicizing the novel (a lot) harder. (OR NOT! See below.) Even at that, it wouldn’t work because good luck doesn’t stick to me. My stuff is always obscure, but it HAS to resonate and express my own world view/soul. 

One would think, OK then,  it’s patently obvious that you need to follow your own path and forget about everyone else. Right, and lose money on all my novels and disappoint my publishers because I don’t know the secret handshake! Funny how things that applied in your childhood drag on and on throughout your life, haunting you. An outsider then, an outsider now, largely because I wouldn’t or couldn’t conform. I always thought (naive me) that publicity should pull potential readers toward the product, rather than push the product aggressively up their nose and down their throat.

I wish I didn’t have to do any of this at all. I am at the point in my life where I don’t need to be told I’m good. I know I’m good, and there is no ego in that. Why would I be wasting my time and energy, not to mention the time and energy of publishers and potential readers, if I was no damn good? But being good, even damn good, isn’t the issue here. If deep in prehistory the storyteller sat alone by the fireside with no one to hear his or her story, humanity might still be writing with a sharp stick dipped in a little pile of dog shit.

Lately I keep finding articles that exhort writers to stop doing certain things – the most recent one being, pushing yourself on potential readers via the internet. The title even contains the words SHUT UP!, a message to all writers who indulge in such blatant prostitution.  The article blasts the idea at us that if you want to sell the first novel (and I hear this over and over again now, as if it’s an anodyne against all evils in the writing field), then JUST WRITE THE NEXT ONE. They don’t explain how, or why, that undertaking will suddenly/magically burst open the barriers on the first novel and send it leaping up the bestseller list.

The subtext seems to be “you publicity whore, why do you even CARE how many copies you sell?” Either that, or once you stop caring about it, success will automatically drop into your lap, one of those New Age beliefs where you just have to wish on a star to get what you want. (The subtext here is that good writing will automatically find an audience, just because it's good. It amazes me how many people believe that.) Then comes the kicker – always – that the writer of the article used the internet copiously to sell her first book, because, though that was allowed back in 2006, you can’t do it any more because it is no longer 2006. It just makes you look desperate and like a know-nothing. 

Then comes even more of a kicker, the revelation that she already has several bestsellers out – likely some sort of homogenized series about dragons and witches, probably having sex with each other – and is much sought after for writers’ events, where “really, I have no control over how much awe they feel for me as they seat me at the head of the table”. Seriously – not a trace of irony in the whole thing. 

But here’s the kicker to the kicker: I went on this author’s Facebook page, and NEVER have I seen more sickeningly aggressive hype for her next book. Splat, splat, splat, splat, post after post after post slapping you in the face.  But hey – SHE gets to do this because she is already a bestselling author! I know if anyone even notices this post, they are likely to say something like, "belt up and quit being jealous," and /or  "just follow your heart, it won’t make any difference anyway”. (Or, assuming this is a wide-open call for advice rather than an expression of frustration, tell me just what I am doing wrong.)  But to avoid being caught up in this, to not care at all how you are rated (and everything and everyone is rated now in the most callous manner possible) is nearly impossible unless you wear blinders and ear plugs. We all must swim in the waters in which we are forced to live.

"You had me at hello"

Visit Margaret's Amazon Author Page!

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Life's Lesson: you're an asshole!

(An excerpt from one of those advice columns, it doesn't matter which one)

October 23, 2012 - Give YOURSELF the chance to start fresh Nearly two years ago, I broke some dishes on our loft’s concrete floor. I left. My wife broke the rest of the dishes. She also broke the kitchen tap and didn’t know how to turn it off. She called the super who told her to call the cops. She lied and said I did everything. I got arrested, got legal aid, pleaded guilty, and got 18 months’ probation for "mischief under $5000." Calls from my probation officer to my wife, to ensure my possessions were returned, went un-answered. We operated a business together. I was its founder in 1998 prior to re-incorporation in 2005. Now, I have next to nothing, struggle with making ends meet, and trying to get a job that doesn’t receive anonymous phone calls that get me sent home. I have no money for a lawyer; get no help/sympathy from Police, or Probation. The judge who sentenced me said I’d get my possessions back. We’re not divorced. My probation disallows direct or indirect contact, unless by lawyer, till the end of November. I was told that some of my possessions were sold. My wife told the courts/police that I worked for her at her company. I never received a paycheck since she re-incorporated in 2005. I was her biggest cheerleader and found nearly 100% of the new clients, while she managed accounts, lied to me about the lack of progress on them, while telling clients that I was to blame when accounts’ issues arose. It's like I had no idea who I married. I totally screwed up and put her at the company’s helm. Sometimes I feel I should move to another province, but I don't want to leave my family. I've had a lot of therapy, but I can't seem to choose to accept this and move forward… as if the universe won’t let me heal until I figure out what I’m supposed to learn from all this. Used and Defamed   You’ve written to a relationship advice person, not a lawyer, so I’m looking through the lens of your relationship with yourself. You even close your account with an inward view… about being stuck, unable to heal from the whole episode, unable to move forward. The issues of your lost possessions, along with business and other past “screw-ups,” must now be kept separate from your sense of self, of inner strengths and abilities, and of having a future. You need income. You need your family. And you need to regain self-respect. You’ve served the probation time. Hanging on to despair about your stuff, or the company, keeps you mired in sadness and defeat. Legal Aid workers can ask the court to now demand the return of your remaining possessions. It’s a practical matter; your self-esteem does NOT rest on it. Focus on what’s needed immediately, which is a job. If anonymous calls start, inform Police you’re being harassed. Give yourself a fresh chance at the future.     Tip of the Day: Even significant mistakes can be put in the past, if you believe in yourself. Blogger's Comments. EARRRGHHHHHH. I am old enough to remember the ancient dinosaur advice columnists such as Ann Landers and - who was that other one, her sister? The stuff that ran then was pretty mild, such as the earth-shaking issue of how should you hang the toilet paper roll, with the end of it facing in or out. She was coy about anything sexual, and the really raw problems were - well, I'm not even sure there WERE problems like this way back in what they now call "the day". It's not so much the appalling mess this guy has got himself into - doing a lot of heavy blaming for what strikes me as an obscenely abusive pas de deux - but the pat, ribbon-tied advice this "expert" gives him, the shallow "positive attitude and self-esteem" stuff that is so easy to dispense in a world that is becoming more superficial and less literate with every passing day. I have a feeling there is a lot more going on here than this guy is revealing, just from the menacing subtext which seems to murmur the abusive tyrant's sweet refrain: "Look what you made me do." What appals me even more is the way women seem to be sucked in by these frightening losers, as if they have no protective emotional radar whatsoever. Maybe I watch too much Dateline. I don't know. But it happens over and over again, not just on some slick American TV show but right here in my own back yard. I wonder sometimes what sort of cushy self-esteem-oriented advice these rotters get that gives them license to go right back out there and find some more victims. What frightens me even more is this: more victims are never in short supply. In too many cases, women CHOOSE to be with men who are convicted criminals. They write them sweet letters on death row, even marry them, buying their well-practiced, totally self-serving line of bullshit that they were railroaded by the legal system and are in fact completely innocent. I once heard it said that a woman like this will walk into a room with 100 men in it, and gravitate immediately toward the one loser, the one on probation, the one with a secret wife stashed away, the one who can't help his rages because he's in the throes of a terrible addiction that he can't recover from because he was abused as a child, and furthermore, whatever is wrong with him is HER fault anyway, so how can she leave and stir up all his tragic abandonment issues? Women can be just as evil and slimy as men, can be sociopathic murderers and not bat an eyelash, but it seems the really elaborate, Byzantine stories of emotional destruction are man-to-woman. These guys don't need hand-holding or lectures on self-esteem. They don't need bullshit New Age therapy that tells them "the universe won't let them heal" until they figure out "what they are supposed to learn from all this". Jesus, give me a break. They are supposed to learn that they are assholes, and if they don't change their behaviour and their attitudes and KEEP them changed, they will always be assholes. But that's not the refrain we hear from therapy circles. First, I don't get this "universe" stuff, as if all the stars and galaxies revolve around ME, the mighty epicentre of all things. It reminds me of The Secret, that infamous crooked belief system spawned by sociopath James Ray, which claimed we can have anything we want (and isn't that the purpose of life, after all: to get what we want, particularly wealth?) just by wanting it. Even Oprah got down and kowtowed to this person, who obviously fed into her financial might-means-right philosophy.  In an insulting parody of a sacred native ritual, Ray brainwashed his followers into entering a cobbled-together, unsafe sweat lodge, an updated version of drinking the Koolaid, this time involving searing smoke and fatal fumes. I don't even think Galileo believed the universe was some sort of Big Daddy God-force that looked after him, wiped his nose and patted him on the back, spewing out "lessons" at regular intervals. I'm afraid such an entity does not exist. I used to ascribe to it, more or less, but I now believe that there is no one hovering above us that knows everything about us, that made us in the womb, etc. If there is a God, it's a totally impersonal force that was somehow ignited when life on earth began, then didn't know how to stop itself. The rest was up to the relentless forces of evolution. If there is a personal God, then it lives within us - hardly an original thought, but it's the only one I can adhere to after a personal crisis that nearly tore me to pieces - and it has become more imperative than ever that we listen to it. Whatever it is, wherever it comes from, I believe it compels us to love and care for one another in a way that can make a profound difference. If we think we can get something just by wanting it, try wanting sensitivity - wanting compassion - wanting grace. If I got a letter like this guy's,  and thank God I'm not one of those glib advice-spewers who generally have no qualifications at all to do what they are doing, I'm not sure what I'd say. How about, for starters: you're a creep, buddy, you're lying to me, and if SHE had a chance to speak she'd tell me a whole load of stuff you didn't say because you're a con and a sociopath who sucks people dry, then ruthlessly moves on. You can't say that, or you don't, because everyone has to learn to love themselves, even Jeffrey Dahmer types who strike me as more reptile than human.  Is there no such thing as true recovery? I know it exists, I've seen it, but it's hard work, it's long and discouraging and must be maintained day by day for the rest of your life. How many criminals and cons are willing to take on such a gruelling wilderness trudge when ripping people off and fucking people over is so much easier and even more personally gratifying? I get tired of it all. Tired of the bandaids plastered over cancer, the "stay positive", the basic falseness that keeps people from finding real recovery, the kind of recovery that generally speaking turns your guts slowly inside-out until you somehow find some semblance of personal authenticity.