I Comment Therefore I Am

It’s Monday, which means I get to prove that I exist because I know you are not sure if there is really a woman under the paper bag. Well, I may not show you my face, but I will reveal bits and pieces of me that I have left littered around the blogosphere. Littering is so tacky that I’ve picked up some of my comments and turned them into a post. You need not doubt my existence because I comment, therefore I am.

Here are a few of the comments I left on wonderful blogs:

The (Un)Experienced Mom answeredWhat’s the best excuse you ever used to get out of an obligation like work, school, or chores…And did you get away with it? and then asked her readers to respond as well. Well, I’m not saying I’ve used this excuse, but I’m sure I’d get away with it because no one in their right mind would check:

My mom always says to tell people that you have explosive diarrhea because that will get you out of anything.

Pumpkin Delight has been thinking about the power of collective thought and ended her post by asking, “What do you think?” Well,…

I believe in the power of collective thought. I am not a religious person, but I believe that prayer can work because it is a form of collective thought. Why not? Stranger things have happened.

Do you know what it’s like to love an addict? Unfortunately, some of you probably do.  I read a post by ck that fills my whole self with pain…

The first time I ever remember falling in love was when I met my baby brother. He is 8 years younger. He was the most beautiful baby I have ever seen and that is saying a lot because I have since had a baby of my own.

He filled my days with joy and made my life better in every way. Then he disappeared not in body, but in mind and spirit. He became an addict and I lost my brother. One of the most difficult days for both of us was when he looked me in the eyes and said, “I am an addict”. I looked back and said, “I know”. He responded with tears rolling down his face, “I know, but I have never told you. I have never admitted it to you.”

I spent years loving the memory of him, not what was left, but what used to be. I wondered if I had made him up. Maybe he was never truly as wonderful as what I remembered.

Addicts are liars and manipulators; they break your heart over and over. One day I just couldn’t take it anymore and I let myself mourn for the loss. I let myself accept that the probable outcome of his addiction would be death. I don’t know what changed in me, but something did, something made it bearable.

He’s okay now. He has a family and a job, but I will never feel like he is not in eminent danger. Every now and again I see and hear the brother I remember and I am certain I didn’t make him up. I understand that I love him because he is wonderful, but I realize that I could lose him at any moment and I am guarded.

I am sorry that you love an addict. No, I am sorry that the person you love has become an addict. I wish we could make it better just by loving them, but we can’t.

I read a great post at Stir-Fry Awesomeness called, Get a Blog. The way it was written prompted me to comment:

This would make an excellent infomercial. It could have testimonials like:

“My friends’ eyes used to to glaze over with boredom as I told them every detail of my life, but then I GOT A BLOG!”

“My husband wouldn’t listen to me, but I showed him. I GOT A BLOG!”

“I used to have no friends, but now I have all the friends I could ever want in my computer because I GOT A BLOG!”

“I couldn’t just walk up to strangers and force them to look at all my kids cute baby pictures, but now I can for Wordless Wednesdays or Wordful Wednesdays if I’m feeling chatty because I GOT A BLOG.”

“I was in danger of losing all my IRL friends because all I wanted to do was talk about myself and share my poetry, but now I can give them a break because I GOT A BLOG!”

I’d like to end with a comment that was left on my previous I Comment Therefore I Am post by Naomi from Organic Motherhood with Cool Whip in response to my response about TMI:

…I have made my husband drink my breastmilk in a dark movie theatre parking lot one time cuz my pump wasn’t working right and I thought I might spontaneously combust otherwise. TMI?

That’s it for this edition of I Comment Therefore I Am.

Do you give good comment? Wanna play along? Go forth, spread the comment love, and turn it into a post (I keep a draft post open while I read blogs throughout the week).  Recycle, reuse, and reduce my friends; it’s the wave of the future.

Oh and feel free to comment on my comments otherwise how will I know that you exist.

If you play along please link back and/or post the button below. Spread the love, spread the love!

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