Where I whine like a baby

19 Nov

It’s Monday and I’m sick with a head cold congested and blinded and I bare my soul asking for your words, your thoughts, at the very least your eyes and…

nothing. An almost gaping silence echoes across this space.

Why do I crave your acceptance and fond words, comfortable cooing, reassuring arms so much? Why do I thrust all of my psyche out into the ether, only to be rejected, ignored, left prone.

Oh it’s not that bad. But I’m sitting here licking my wounds today, feeling hellish, or slightly on this side of hellish, limbo like, wondering where everyone is, why no one is here, with me, for me.

What it would take to have people here for me, all the time, great gobs of peeps revolving around me. Hell, I’ve alienated most of the people I would once have had as readers, disenchanted, disillusioned by my struggles and whining.

I’m just not funny enough, am I.

I’ve seen darker, more obtuse sites, badly written, collecting readers. Why is that? do I not pet people enough in their own comments? So I do posts full of links? Dance on the head of a pin?

Don’t mind me. I’m sick, and rambling, and jealous that Eden hit the NaNo winning number, while I sit here lost in memory, and less than half way there.

22 Responses to “Where I whine like a baby”

  1. becca November 19, 2007 at 2:15 pm #

    Or maybe most of those readers are too shy to speak. You are one of the few tabs in my RSS feed which I never leave with unread links. I just never know how to speak.

  2. Kathy November 19, 2007 at 2:27 pm #

    When someone puts herself out there, particularly when I’ve only been reading the site for a few weeks, I want to leave a comment, encouragement, whatever, but I’m afraid I’ll say the wrong thing. So a lot of times, I opt out. I’m guessing a lot of people feel that way.

  3. charlotteotter November 19, 2007 at 2:36 pm #

    I’m here, reading and listening whenever you post. I don’t always comment, for the same reason as Kathy gives, but i am here. Your honesty and your beautiful keep me coming back.

  4. Amie November 19, 2007 at 2:44 pm #

    I’m here listening… but I agree with Becca, maybe those readers are too shy to speak. I read here for a long time before posting anything. I worry in case what I say comes out wrong or sounds dumb. But maybe I overanalyze things too much.
    It sounds from this entry like your having the same kind of day as me. If you need someone, i’m here x

  5. cat November 19, 2007 at 2:50 pm #

    I’m not talking, because I’m wallowing in my own self pity. So perhaps it helps to know I am not alone in this self pity thing, after all. What’s it then, if we are not alone in it… is it self pity after all? Which becomes too existential to give a crap about in the state we’re in. Or does it?

    Who knows. I do know that I know how you feel and say… whine on sister, sometimes it helps just a tad.

  6. Kelly O November 19, 2007 at 3:57 pm #

    Wait, what? I’m going back to read the last post now.

  7. Jen November 19, 2007 at 4:20 pm #

    I tend to ruminate when I don’t know what to say, but you know I’m always reading. Plus sometimes you write so bare-ass honestly and emotionally that it almost seems like responding will take away from your words.

  8. Marcy November 19, 2007 at 4:44 pm #

    I’m here. Didn’t know what to say to the last post, but… I read it and I feel for you.

  9. Netter November 19, 2007 at 5:07 pm #

    I want to comment on every single post, but I feel so stupid and inane most of the time.

  10. thordora November 19, 2007 at 5:10 pm #

    Why feel stupid? I’m usually the one doing stupid things…

    Nothing anyone says is ever taken badly. Even if I disagree, I know things are said out of a sincere desire to relate….

  11. bine November 19, 2007 at 5:20 pm #

    you know you have suffered through a lot of things most of us don’t know shit about. sometimes it’s scary to answer to something like this … i’m often scared of saying something that must seem completely lame or clueless to you, too. is it enough just to offer hugs, fond words or cooing when you are stripping your soul like this?
    well, i’m often struck dumb by your posts, sad and miserable or inarticulate with rage for you, but you should never feel rejected or ignored. we love you, you know?

  12. Caitlin November 19, 2007 at 5:38 pm #

    I’ve been going through some stuff lately and have been really struggling with my depression. I still read, although it’s hard for me to comment sometimes, mostly due to what’s in my own life right now. And there have been many times, where I wanted to say something, but just couldn’t get it to come out right.

  13. daisybones November 19, 2007 at 6:02 pm #

    It’s hard isn’t it? The whole reveal/not reveal naked brutal honesty and self-exposing of blogging… I know I have a harder time framing my words in comments here than anywhere else. That speaks to the complexity of the emotions you invoke and express. It’s so much easier and quicker to just rattle off a “ZOMG!!! LOL my baby totally pooped all over me too one time!” on a silly popular mommy blog.

    You’re just too deep for the masses, baby;) Consider it flattery or awe or something.

  14. radical mama November 19, 2007 at 6:59 pm #

    Well, I know you aren’t talking to me, hon. 🙂

  15. Nat November 19, 2007 at 7:07 pm #

    I think I’m in the same boat as Caitlin. This time of year is rough on me.

    But I’m here. Lurking, from time to time, in between calls at work, or whenever I have a quiet moment to myself at home.

    Hang in there, my stuffy friend. 🙂

  16. karrie November 19, 2007 at 7:12 pm #

    I still read, and I still care.

    I’ve just not been able to summon up my previous level of blog reading, writing or commenting. Too much Scrabulous, I think……

  17. Carin November 19, 2007 at 7:14 pm #

    I say this because I care about you, and not as a hateful bitch.

    1. Most of your posts drip with comments compared to mine.
    2. Just because people don’t comment doesn’t mean people don’t read. You talk about stuff that is hard to talk about, and we often don’t know what to say.
    3. Some of us are afraid that if we say the wrong thing, we’ll make you very angry for suggesting something stupid, saying something stupid, etc. And hell, you have a right to be mad if we suggest something assenine. But that’s another reason.
    4. Wouldn’t you prefer a few meaningful comments to a zillion mindless repetitive spurts of aww and oo and I’m sorry for you? Isn’t it quality, not quantity?
    5. I hope that you are doing this to benefit yourself, not just for the feedback you’re getting, because this stuff isn’t known to get a whole wack of feedback, because it’s scary and deep and heavy and all and no one wants to find words to echo you. They just want to listen.
    I know it’s hard because you feel like no one is reading because no one is talking, but gees Louise that isn’t close to true. And I’ve said this before, you are helping people you don’t even know.
    I read your stuff, have for at least a couple of years, without fail. I don’t know what to say because I haven’t walked in your shoes. But I read.

    Now frame some of these comments, or something, so next time your mind wants to say your audience is rejecting you, you can read these and silence that demon.

  18. Barb November 19, 2007 at 8:41 pm #

    Just wanted you to know I am reading your blog.

  19. sweetsalty kate November 19, 2007 at 8:57 pm #

    Damn, I read a very provocative thing the other day and didn’t bookmark it and now I can’t remember where it was. It was a rant on blogging, the jist of which was that the blogger was feeling as you are, addicted to comment-crack (who isn’t?) and feeling demoralized at other blogs teeming with feedback, at the overall banality of the medium.

    Anyway, all this prompted her to turn off comments entirely. She felt it brought so much more freedom to her writing, focused her more on the discipline of writing and the release of it without having it feel like an unwinnable popularity contest all the time.

    I don’t know if I could ever do that… I’m still addicted. Through everything, some of the most intense wisdom and understanding has come from strangers.

    But still, though.. it might be a really refreshing experiment.

    As for you, you’re pretty intense, my dear. In a great way – in a way that is healing and raw and a lifeline. But I’ll echo what everyone else has already said.. that I’m often just tapped, clueless, oblivious. Don’t know what to say.

    But I’m always reading, nodding, hand over mouth, laughing, on cue. Just so you know.

  20. Eden November 20, 2007 at 1:21 am #

    If you wanna go back & forth & unload some of your whining on me, please do. I have some ideas to getcha going again, if you want to.

    For me, it was 100% about having fun writing and not necessarily reaching a magic word count someone else tells me when I achieve I “win.” If I hadn’t enjoyed this process, I wouldn’t have “won” shit. You have to love the work. If not, stop doing it.

    Oh it’s nonsense and I have scenes & characters I can’t wiat to cut. I don’t usually work like this but it was a fun way to work.

  21. marcelarhodus November 20, 2007 at 6:03 am #

    we’re here, reading you… every day, every post.
    but between my kids throw-up and fevers I’ve not had much time or decent words to comment.

  22. Barbie November 20, 2007 at 1:11 pm #

    I don’t say much, because often times, I know exactly what you’re going through, but as everyone else is saying, we’re just not sure what to say. But I read almost every day, and it’s nice to know that as fucktastic as all of this is, you’re not alone.

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