Jumping Ship

I feel an overwhelming sense of sadness as I read about the dissolution of a very long and very intense  friendship.  It seems to be happening right before my eyes, playing out in venomous Facebook postings with words that aren't likely to be forgiven or forgotten.  It's one nasty cauldron of hurt feelings and betrayal, of blame and resentment, of shockingly vicious personal attacks.  Whatever the original cause or justification soon won't matter - it's all going to be lost in the whirlwind and damaged beyond repair.  The real issues are already clouded over and buried in a sea of misdirection.

Most of us are too smart to declare for one side or the other, at least publicly, but private postings are another matter and the consensus is simple, straightforward and unanimous - there's a madman on the loose, emotionally broken, delusional, spiraling out of control and possibly drinking again, not to mention determinedly on the fast track to self destruction.   Those who cared enough to look beyond the wild rantings and offer help, despite the risk, were shunned, threatened with violence, mercilessly cursed and condemned.  They jumped ship in self defense and to their credit, kept the encounters to themselves until recently.  

Through all this, something was nagging at the corners of my mind.  I had a fuzzy but strong sense of having heard the lines, or something very much like them, before - often and loudly - but I'm out of practice and it took a few days before I recognized the once familiar dialogue of an alcoholic melt down.  All the signs were there from the rage and mindless lashing out to the self pity to the defiance-laced denial and the mental chaos to the incredibly focused (and successful ) effort to drive everyone away.  Meanwhile, the postings against him began to show a pattern - bitterly I-told-you-so, vindictive, malicious, sarcastic, even triumphant and a little celebratory - and I was more than a little surprised to see how quickly and collectively the line between love and hate could be crossed.  I thought of sending him a message then realized the futility of such a gesture - You don't argue with or expect reason from a whiskey bottle, I remembered a counselor telling me, Anything you say, no matter what you say, will be used against you.  Hang back for now.

So I do but it drains me and the worry makes me sick at heart.

Once a dam has been breached and the flood waters pour out, anything in the water's path will be overtaken and swept under.  There's nothing to be done but wait and see and pray that the water's not as poisoned as its source.