The endless recitation of woes on some blogs I used to enjoy are giving me a headache. It’s not lack of sympathy. More like emotional exhaustion. So many people seem to be stuck in the tar pit of youthful misery — bad childhoods, miserable ex-marriages or other horrible relationships.
Don’t they want to move on? Apparently not. The quagmire of despair has become a comfortable place, so they set up a desk, computer and a light — and there they stay. Some of these bloggers continue exploring the depths of their suffering for hundreds — thousands? — of posts. Many are closing in on Social Security yet are still suffering from childhood trauma. So much for time casting a rosy haze over the past.
There ought to be a legal cutoff date at which point you are required to close the book on whatever hideous experiences life dealt you, to come to grips with your rotten childhood and awful former relationships. Or at least be required to find another subject about which to write.
Maybe it’s because they’ve found an audience for posts about suffering and it’s an effective blogging formula? Can they actually still be trapped in the quagmire of painful memory — 20, 30 or 40 years later?
I know lots of people who were abused as children. Even more who had abusive relationships as adults. So many people, it seems more folks than not grew up in dysfunctional families.
And who hasn’t had a terrible relationship or three?
I plead guilty on all charges, your honor.
It was my first husband (before you ask, he died) who gave me a Gibbs slap and got me moving in another direction. Of course, this was before my second marriage, the one in which I managed to step in front of the same bullet I’d previously dodged. NOTE TO SELF: No one is ever too old to act like a moron.
Jeffrey didn’t have a storybook childhood either (who did?), so he had his own issues to resolve. One day, when I was going on about my father (aka, the evil bastard) he said: “You know, you’ve told me these stories before. Several times. Maybe it’s time to move on.”
You have to want to move on. It took time and work, but I’m glad I did it. There have been plenty of new traumas and I doubt I’d have survived if I hadn’t cleared the decks. Nowadays, I’m overloaded. I cannot bear to read another angst-laden tale of abuse, and emotional trauma. I’m aware how awful it can be (is, was).
Been there. Survived that. I support all efforts to free oneself from the lingering effects of the past — but I’ve got a few problems and plenty of personal angst. I’d rather make you laugh than cry.
There’s enough misery to go around without me adding more. For all of us, maybe it’s time to stop defining ourselves as the worst things we experienced. We are not what others did to us. We aren’t our mistakes. As much as we have suffered, we’ve also found fun, joy, friends, love.
We’ve got good memories and positive experiences, though it can seem as if painful memories hold the balance of power. That’s because we empower misery and dismiss happier times.
Misery is like a piano falling on your head; happiness just creeps up on you. The result? Long after the people who hurt us have disappeared from our lives, they are still beating us up. Why? Is there anything to be gained?
Let’s celebrate the good times. Who couldn’t use a few good laughs?
SERENDIPITY: SEEKING INTELLIGENT LIFE ON EARTH 
I so agree with you. The more you talk about the same thing over and over it becomes your reality. I hope I’m not one of the blogs that upset you.
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I know exactly what you mean. It’s sad actually. I’ve tried to help some people, but eventually had to abandon them – they were pulling me down. You’re right – some seemed stuck there – or to be enjoying their misery ??? I had to leave them to heal their own wounds – however long that may take. Often a tough decision though – especially when it’s family.
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They need to vent, I guess. Cheaper and maybe safer than booze or drugs.
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Probably!
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Amen!!! We must have a cross-section of similar bloggers in our communities, because I have noticed the huge uptick of people wallowing in their depression as well lately. While that may be therapeutic to the blogger themselves, I really don’t like reading crap like that on a regular basis. I rarely bring my personal demons (What few I have) onto my blog, and strive to be the lighthearted clown that cheers people up instead. I wish more people would take your advise!
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Make that a double amen with cinnamon. I find the sound of my own voice retelling the stories of misery as annoying as anyone else’s. A good sob story once in a while? You earn it by entertaining the troops the rest of the time. Every damn day? Too sodden for me! And apparently you.
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One can only give so many virtual hugs before one wants to start doling out verbal slaps in the face instead…
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You’re right… I too need to move on and focus on the goodness around me rather than pondering upon the past and fearing the future.
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I think we ALL do, whether or not we write about it! It’s good mental health!
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Well said, Mrs. A. Well said.
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I think I’m a couple of Oh Misery Me posts over the line. I’m as miserable as anyone else, but I don’t feel competitive about it.
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Right On Marilyn!
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Thank you 🙂 We are are miserable wretches. No need to brag about it.
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I too love to wallow in the luxury of misery. For much of my youth and young adulthood, I lived in the past and in a world of “what if’s” and “if only’s”. Then I had a friend who was willing to let me tell my whole rambling sorry tale over days and still had a smile for me at the end. It was then that I realised that if I didn’t move on then I would probably drive her friendship away too and add another woe to my list of woes. That was when I decided to move on. An important part of moving on is forgiving – forgiving others and forgiving yourself and where needed, asking for forgiveness too,
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A big thumbs up. So many of us have had a very hard time in so many ways. It’s what you do about it that counts. Suffering is legal, but there has there has to be an end. A grand finale. A final act. Curtain and a bow to the audience.
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Kind of playing devil’s advocate, but you know it actually DOES happen (as it did in my life) that a person grows up in an environment in which (in my case, she) is lied to constantly by the people who are supposed to be caring for her. I don’t want to go into the details, but not everyone grows up aware of what’s happening to and around them. Grownups create a kid’s reality. Consequently — again, in my case — I was well into my 50s when, with the help of a therapist and my aunts, I finally saw what I had not seen as a kid. This doesn’t mean what happened to me as a kid had no effect on me. It had a huge effect on me growing up — it still does. I don’t think I’m a whiner and I’m not negative, but I realized through that that there are people who don’t even KNOW what’s gone on in their own lives until they’re pretty old. Letting go is difficult if one has JUST NOW FOUND OUT important facts about their lives. Until a person has knowledge it’s difficult to escape the ghost blows. It was for me, especially as I had been well-trained to punish myself. That being said (and risking that I might be one of the misery mongers) I suppose it all depends on why someone is writing a blog. I think there are a lot of people who are looking for themselves and/or seeking catharsis and/or community and/or attention. Personally, my goal is to entertain myself and (godwilling) others.
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True enough. I can raise my hand on that too. I have no problem with airing the past … but not forever. No matter what, there has to be a point when you’ve said it, aired it, examined, reexamined it and there’s no further to run with it. My problem is with those who never after years of public scrutiny of their Issues, are still stuck in that place in the past. Everyone is welcome to write whatever they want. I just can’t keep reading it.
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There are certain blogs I can’t read, either. I have a really hard time with blogs in which people whine about writing. That just makes no sense to me. No one HAS to write and anyone who does has to expect that not everyone is going to like what they write. I think those people just want someone to say “You’re right. You’re great. You deserve better. The world sucks.” I guess we all want that, but at a certain point anyone who wants to write has to realize that it doesn’t matter if one is “right,” or if others think you’re great, and no one deserves anything and the zeitgeist is the zeitgeist. I also think some people define themselves by the pain they fee/felt. In suffering they feel alive.
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You are SO spot on. The “I’m stuck and can’t write” bloggers are the worst. If you have nothing to say, have the decency to shut up about it! And I deserve something … a car, a house, money, fame — a crown and a scepter and maybe a throne. Should I be writing about that — and would it help??
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It wouldn’t help. That’s the whole point they don’t seem to get. Concentrating time and effort on venting about those things just keeps a person there — which was your point in the first place! That whole “I’m stuck and I can’t write” thing is well, yeah? So DON’T. And “No one appreciates my superior efforts!” That gets from me a mixture between “Shut up and die and ‘unfollow’.” I think I hate that one the most — for me it’s either a person loves to write FOR ITS OWN SAKE or that person needs to consider maybe finding something they CAN love for its own sake. But not all of us are so constituted, I guess. One great thing I got from my childhood was that; I NEVER expect to be noticed, appreciated or valued. I know that sounds like whining, but it’s not. I learned to do my things ANYWAY. I learned that freedom and self came in the action of being myself. The great film by Krzysztof Kieslowski “Rouge” has the most amazing line. I don’t know if you’ve seen it. The protagonist(a)’s brother is a junkie. She asks the retired judge who (among other things) is her mentor what she should do about her brother. He says, “Etre.” That’s amazing. So many things obscure our ability to do that but it’s all that’s asked of us, really.
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I can understand using one’s blog to air some strong emotions about bad things that happened in the past. It can be cathartic, cleansing. But not all the time. Move on.
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Exactly. There ought to be a grand finale at some point.
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I think that some people aren’t happy unless they are miserable.
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Amen! (I hope I’m not one of the negative Nellies of whom you speak and just blissfully unaware of it.)
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I figure this will be a good case of “if the shoe fits.” I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feeling, but I can’t keep reading tales of woe. It makes me woeful.
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