During the last few weeks with my old host I amassed an insane number of spam comments. Hundred of them per day grabbed hold of my moderation queue with a vigor that would not budge despite layers of various and sundry spam-blockers and the most judicious application of the “IP ban” button.
The old host intimated that hacking could have been the reason for my inexplicable overages. Perhaps the excessive spam should have been a warning?
In any case, I eventually came to accept the presence of comment spam into my life — nay, I even came to embrace it. I mean really, how could you do anything but when each day brought wave after wave of such charming little missives as these:
Intimately, the post is in reality the freshest on this laudable topic. I agree with your conclusions and will thirstily look forward to your next updates. Saying thanks will not just be adequate, for the extraordinary lucidity in your writing. I will directly grab your rss. –You’ll grab my what?
Only wished to drop you actually a line to allow you know you have quite a few authentic fans in existence. –That I do, and I am thankful for them every day.
Is it possible for me personally to follow anyone in MySpace? –Yes you can, but you really shouldn’t.
Cam girls: Why are they so hot and all from Russia? –They are?
Well, it seems as if you have got the legitimate core of the position in the current situation. While others appear to have neglected the all important thought of it, what was put forward prefatorial is illuminated in addition to being on the nose. I am avoiding supposing that I concur on every one of the details; all the same, you have rendered me cause to pause and think of numerous of the tips that I conceived that I held as truehearted beliefs in that attentiveness….(three more lines of blah blah blah edited out)…Strongly said, and time for someone like myself to think a some more on a couple of some of most important points. All At Once it is clear it is clear that you have have added a Little More Thought to the World. –And so have you my friend. So have you.
I’m not drawing any conclusions yet, but I will note that in the short time I’ve been at this host not a single spammy message has sullied the comments. Is it too soon to hope that I’ve outrun the invaders?
From the Archives: Unconditional
***This originally posted more than four years ago. It amazes me how little things have changed. Speaking of changes, thank you for your patience as I sort things out with my old host. With any luck, we’ll be back in fighting form by the beginning of next week.***
I have a very young friend who is a complete pain in my ass. Really, I shouldn’t call her a friend anymore. Perhaps we started out as friends, but at this point, she’s essentially cast me in the role of her mother.
Not that I mind. I like it, very much. Most days. It makes me smile to think that she could be my daughter. It makes me smile to imagine having been sexually active young enough for her to be my daughter.
I stop smiling when I think of what her actual mother must have been like with her. I sometimes wish I could go back in time and re-parent her right from the start. That’s impossible, I know. But it doesn’t stop me from wishing it.
Her people sometimes ask me who I am and I stumble. Our actual attachment is far too complex to explain repeatedly. We don’t generally bother. I’ve been mistaken as her mother, her sister, her co-worker, her partner, her auntie…we generally just look at each other and laugh, and settle on “family.” I get to be her family.
My friends don’t understand this relationship. They tend to think that I should stop speaking to her, stop dealing with her instabilities–stop loving her, in essence. I have no inclination to do these things.
There are no rules for a relationship like this. No one writes books about us. No column gets published in the Sunday paper about dealing with a situation such as ours. We’re not “friends;” we’re not “parent and child.” We’re something undefined. We’re bound by love, but there is no word or phrase to cap it off.
Sometimes she tires me out, I’ll give you that. Sometimes I’m completely exhausted from trying to help her, to listen to her, and I wonder if anything I’ve managed to do for her has made one bit of difference. I have to then take a big step back, have some coffee, talk it out with the couple of friends who understand…and then, maybe, after a deep breath, I’m ready to head back into the trenches with her.
At this point I have no expectation of reciprocity from this friend. Those of you who know me even a bit in real life know that I talk a big game on reciprocity. I’m all over the concept. If I give to you, by God, I want to know that I have some chance of you helping me out, at some point in the future. Seems only fair, right?
From this friend, however, I need nothing back. Right now, she has nothing to give back to me. I have no problem with that. I’m perfectly comfortable with that. In fact, I like being able to give to her with no expectation of return.
Not completely sure about this, but I think that’s what they mean when they talk about unconditional love. Certainly I don’t agree with her foolish choices; I’ve said “no” to her times without number; I’ve cried hot angry tears at the destruction she’s caused a time or two–but I still love her. I can’t imagine not loving her, even while I watch her fall and fail time after time.
Here’s what bothers me, though. Shouldn’t I be able to cultivate these same feelings for my WB? Right now, God knows he has nothing left to give to me. He’s used up, between his job and his multifarious additional commitments. And I certainly watch him struggling, with mixed amounts of anger and pity. Shouldn’t I be able to love him without needed anything from him in return?
But now that I’ve written this far, I think I’ve found the answer. She did, once, do something enormous for me. Something so vastly and pervasively good that no matter how much I ever manage to give back to her, I’ll never be able to repay her. Not if I became her slave to the end of her days.
I know that WB has also given me vast good. So, in theory, I should be able to maintain a level of unconditional love toward him, just like I can toward my friend…and yet, unfortunately, I don’t. I’ve failed on that. I still want so much from him, and I get angry and hurt when it fails to materialize. This requires further study on my part.
Is it normal, right, good to maintain such an attitude toward your spouse? I don’t know. I wish I had the answers.
***
This was started several days ago, when some things about my young friend’s situation raised my concern level from “orange” to “red.” Since then, her situation has deteriorated even further. She’s in an abyss of her own making; who knows if she’ll reach for the hands extended to her for help. Probably not.
At the moment I’m bearing one small burden for her, at her request. I’m grateful to be able to help her, truly grateful. It is a blessing for me. When we met the other night, she held me like a drowning person would. She sobbed into my chest; I kissed the top of her head, wishing I could make it all better for her, though I know I can’t.
I struggle. Have I done enough for her. Have I done the right things. Have I done too much. Too many questions and never, ever, ever any answers.