It's a glimmer of hope for the upcoming New Year. In her latest foray our
favorite advice column Ask Polly actually makes some sensible remarks. Unfortunately, if you keep
reading down her bloated commentary you will find that she quickly falls back
into psychobabble—bad old habits are hard to break—but why not accentuate the
positive. It will brighten your day.
Today’s letter writer calls herself Fool, and the name seems
perfectly apt. Get this:
I was
with this man for over five years. Two weeks into the relationship I found out
he was still spending time with his ex-girlfriend and her family. He denied it
at first but after a year he finally admitted they stayed together. After this
it was his ex-wife. His son lied to me and brought her to confront me. She
assaulted me and I took her to court. He would not go to court with me, he
claimed his back was bothering him. I had to end up taking her back to court
again for calling my phone — by the way, he has no idea how she got my number.
Then I had to deal with his sister’s friend. She was all over him, but when I
confronted him, she started with me. I told him I was not dealing with her. I
was told I ruined a 20 year friendship. They picked and played like it meant
nothing to him. I knew he was acting strange. I got his phone and found text
messages from a girl he had under the name Adam. He was calling her every day,
texting her, saying things to her he was saying to me. I took his phone and
contacted her. She claims she was told I was his old fat crazy ex-girlfriend. I
got in his face and called her from his phone, which he did not want me to do
it. Then I found another girl’s number on his phone, he said someone else
contacted her, not him. I confronted the guy who he said used his phone and the
guy knew nothing about it. This man has left me so many times in the past five
years. Two weeks and he would come back. I need some help. I need someone to
tell me what a fool I am for wanting him.
We will point out that she is writing in the past tense. She
is writing about a relationship failure, about a man who she stupidly still
wants in her life, but who seems no longer to be a direct part of it.
Now, for the good news. Polly replies:
I don’t
usually answer letters like yours, even though I get a lot of them. I know it
sounds unfair, but here’s what your letter and other letters like yours have in
common: They are usually just one big, unbroken block of text, like they were
written very quickly, late at night. There is a central villain who has
committed one crime after another. There are a lot of confusing twists and
turns. Sometimes these letters go on for three pages, but by the end, it’s
still hard to tell who’s who. It’s hard to tell when things stopped and
started. It’s hard to tell why anyone is doing what they do. It’s like being
thrown into a house of mirrors, populated only by other confused people who
seem like they might be out to get you, for reasons that are lost on you and on
them.
How do
you get out? And once you get out, what do you do?
Here’s
what you do (and what other people in your position do): You go back inside.
Why? Because you’re so used to living in a house of mirrors that the real world
feels unbelievably empty and lonely and sad by comparison. At least when you’re
inside the house of mirrors, you have something to do: Run away. Chase.
Confront. Investigate. List everyone’s transgressions. Look for witnesses.
Build your case.
Correct. Those of us who like contrarian advice are
especially taken by the notion that Fool should simply jump back in. In truth,
she has been trying to pull herself out of her mess of a relationship, with no
success, so Polly recommends that she simply give in. It is sound advice. Good
point.
Polly’s reasoning is correct, too. This relationship
provides Fool with permanent psychodrama. And not just psychodrama—courtroom drama.
The story contains criminals and victims; it looks for prosecution and trial.
Better yet, it fill’s Fool’s mind. It is so all-consuming that she probably has
no real focus left for anything else or for anyone else. She has probably wrecked most of her friendships with her constant complaining about her sometime boyfriend. Thus, she can choose between the drama and emptiness, or anomie.
Polly continues to talk about herself. Since she fills most of her columns with solipsistic meandering, so why stop now. And then there is
the psychobabble about how Fool can develop a better relationship with herself.
A less charitable soul would point out that Polly’s initial
advice, to the effect that Fool loves the drama, will make it impossible—radically
impossible—for her to replace the constant drama of her relationship with this
man. To tell her to get into herself is to tell her to stay in the
relationship. She has heard it before. She does not need to hear it again. She
needs to hear what Polly told her: jump right in!
"In truth, she has been trying to pull herself out of her mess of a relationship, with no success"
ReplyDeleteIt appears that Fool is exactly where she wants to be and is not trying to leave. I tend to judge people on what they do over what they say. Some people are addicted to the Drama. At least she's got some kind of identity. I've read that even a dog would rather be kicked than ignored.
It's Hell living in a soap-opera, but it's HER Hell and HER choice, so who am I to tell her differently? Or Polly?
ReplyDeleteIt's indeed a hoary old chestnut, but in this case..............well, "birds of a feather flock together".
ReplyDeleteJames, better part of the quote: "Beast knows beast ..."
ReplyDeleteJack,
ReplyDeleteYeah, and they found each other.