You're an advice columnist, Cary, but your are just as much a writer, and a writer must write in his own voice. No writer satisfies everyone. Some people hate Henry James because he won't get to the point. Or because he's fussy. Some people hate Hemingway because he's succinct. Or too macho. Some people hate Dickens because of the improbability of his plots or his sentimental streak. It goes on and on. But writer can only work in his own voice.

I don't know why people bother writing in to an advice column they don't like, but perhaps they are the ones who need to make a New Year's resolution. I think you're style works fine.

Of course you like Cary. Misery loves company, and birds of a feather flock together. You can't write; neither can Cary. You can't tell the difference between you're and your; Cary doesn't actually write an advice column with any useful advice. If you don't understand why people who dislike someone choose to read and write about them, allow me to steer you to the U.S. Constitution (see 1st amendment) and the dictionary (see 'sycophant').

Gee, Cary, that wouldn't be an indirect reference to A.A., would it?

People, taking advice from a Twelve Step Zombie is a VERY bad idea.

at least the AA member admits he's fucked up his past and is seeking to change...the 'evolved xian' is just playing with himself by adapting an oxymoronic phrase to cover his non-thinking ass

To answer the LW's original question, I think it's not so much that misery loves company but that people want to know that things could be worse. Whenever we compare ourselves with others, we can find people doing better than ourselves and others doing worse. When we slow to look at the aftermath of a recent car crash, is it that we want to know whether everyone is okay? I think the answer is yes, but I wonder if we're more keenly looking to see what would happen if something bad happened to us, and to be able to say, like the soldier staring down at the body of his dead compatriot in Full Metal Jacket, "Better you than me."

If you are unaware of the difference between writing well and spelling well, or of the fact that most writers are, in fact, chronic misspellers (one reason editors are important), you are too stupid to be offering an opinion on the subject at all.

because for those of us who feel things intensely (and we are well represented across all of humanity's groupings), we are desperate to know that we are not alone in not percieving life as completely pain-free or as modelled in an advertiser's wet dream

because we obsess with omnipotence and being successful but know deep down that this brings different miseries with it, like for example the misery of being cash rich but time poor, or just the knowledge of the amount of energy we're going to have to expend, can itself drain us in an instant.

because we are drawn to what is real in people, that which we and they rarely dare talk about with full openness.

because being big enough to properly meditate on and digest your own feelings is in key measure what life demands of you. Your feelings are your rudder, too much pain is a sign to change direction, to tweak the parameters.

We need to see or read about examples all the time, because we continuously forget that we've seen or read examples in the past.

What do most people say when they are having a problem or experiencing a dilemna: "am I mad, or is this a legitimate source of grievance?". For many the self is a fantastically insecure and fragile creation, and we need to check, check, check with other people to re-inforce that that which naturally comes up for us, does not mean that we are despicable.

If I feel it, I'm not stepping up, I should be over this kind of thing, if someone else feels it, hey perhaps I'm not so barmy after all.

because we are psychological problem solvers and psychological insight hoarders and we are always ravenous for more data.

because the messy and the dark is inherently fascinating. Jenny goes to the shops and buys a beautiful pair of shoes and comes home elated is not as interesting as Jenny goes to the shops, is hit by a truck and is fighting for her life. Things look bad now, but 17 months later she has made a complete recovery and has re-assessed her priorities and no longer works for that asshole law firm where no one is allowed to feel anything etc...etc..she now works with the homeless, the dispossesed and the destitute..

Wallowing in agony columns is a perfectly lovely way to indulge your desire to spectate other people's trainwreck lives - whether you are miserable yourself or not. I am quite cheerful for the most part, but utterly addicted to problem pages.

However, it is worth noting that, as a general social rule, company doesn't love misery.

Long ago, I was a stay-at-home mom of a 2-year-old. I know that's nothing compared to losing a spouse, but being in constant combat with the person you love best in the world is tough, even when it's a predictable, productive stage.

So one day when I was feeling particularly awful, I thought about a friend of mine with a child the same age as mine and a new baby. As wondered how she could possibly be coping without the restorative benefits of sleep, it occurred to me how very lucky I was that I was sleeping.

I could have stopped there with that feeling of how fortunate I was, but instead I picked up the phone and asked her if she'd like for me to care for her kids so that she could go to the grocery store alone. I know it doesn't seem like much of a luxury, but a trip to the grocery store without buckling anyone into a car seat, without arguing about breakfast cereal, with time to actually compare labels and plan a meal.... A wonderful treat for a stay-at-home mom!

Even though that day was long ago (my former 2-year-old returns from a semester abroad today), I clearly remember how good it felt to help someone who had more troubles than I did. I've carried that forward to other times and troubles, like volunteering at the Food Bank when I was unemployed.