An open response to troubled men

I have just received another email from yet another man who is getting screwed over by a dishonest, manipulative ex-wife using a horrifically corrupt Western family law system to hurt him; another man getting his name dragged through the mud; another man losing his children, property and income for no valid reason; another man who never dreamed that men could face such injustice until it happened to him, wrecking his life; another man out of the hundreds I have heard from in the blue pill void, reaching out to AVfM after a hard time and a frantic search on the internet using keywords like divorce, child support and “men’s rights.”
These emails always leave me fumbling for a polite, supportive way to tell them they are fucked and that there is no help. These men write me because they think I am an expert on the system they are up against, and to some degree I suppose I am, so I don’t much relish writing them back with the news that there are no answers that don’t involve knee pads, copious amounts of Vaseline and platitudes like “survive to fight another day.”
I think perhaps, I have been struggling with the wrong issues when replying to these men. Perhaps there is something else I should be saying; some other words of wisdom that I could try to impart to help them address the very real problems they face directly at the source. How about I just say what really needs to be said?
Like, fuck you.
Like, tough shit.
Like, go fucking bother someone else with your problems.
I’m quite serious.
It is not that I wish any ill will on these men. I most certainly do not. Indeed, these men are a huge part of the reason that I spend 12+ hours a day, seven days a week doing this work. I wish them no harm at all, and I think I am at least as aware of their struggles as anyone else – even more than most.
I am also aware that many of the men who support this movement got here from similar circumstances. Our comments are crowded with men who have had it all taken from them, and who were then beat mercilessly for not being able to bleed any more after being bled out.
We have thousands of readers come here every day, most of them men. It is easy enough to infer that most of them have either been directly affected by these problems or know other men who have.
How many men any more can say they don’t know anything is wrong in the system? But how many men still stuff their fat fucking faces with cheese covered wacky fries and cruise sports channels on the big screen every day without lifting a finger? How many of these men at one point or another in their lives have stared into the utter destruction of a friend’s, or even a brother’s life, as it was happening, then looked at their watches and made noise about what time the game was coming on?
I will tell you how many — a fuck-ton of them; enough of them that at some point or another some of those indifferent, selfish assholes end up in my inbox pleading for guidance, legal help and financial assistance; looking desperately for someone or something to save them.
It is enough to make me want to hit “delete” and turn on a fucking ball game.
Here is the deal, and with this I give you the no holds barred truth about me and where I am today after years of bloodying my forehead on a brick wall.
I’m tired.
I am not wearing down or ready to quit, but I am honestly, genuinely tired. I am tired of seeing a handful of men and women fight for a cause that should include millions. I am tired of seeing a comparative handful of men and women cough up the lion’s share of financial assistance when most, even some who come here every day to read and cheer on FTSU, won’t cough up five fucking dollars to help us out; who are just fine as long as none of the burden, even a trivial part of it, is on them.
We will keep doing this no matter what. I can tell you personally that I will keep fighting this shit till my dying breath, and I know that many of the good men and women working with me feel the same way.  Personally, I have no other clue what to do with myself. But the longer I am at this, the less patience I have with dead weight, those who think AVFM is a fucking source of entertainment, or a life preserver for when the tables finally, inevitably turn against them.
In a way, I feel even worse now for most of the men who will make contact with AVfM looking for that lifeline. Unless their story is one that has the potential for me to exploit and gain media attention to THE CAUSE, then all I will have for them is a link to this article.
Well, and perhaps this piece of advice.
If the system has ruined your life, join the club. You are now in the ranks of men you have ignored your whole life. My advice to you is simple. Take your fucking quietly and with grace. Expect the same compassion you have always extended to those men who wore the shoes you are now wearing.
If you want things to change, then stock up on Ramen, get cozy in your studio apartment and join us in the fight to fix this shit. Don’t ask us to help you, but rather give your life the only meaning it may have left, as someone ready and willing to turn your meager existence into helping others who have been similarly screwed over.
You want help? At least prove yourself worthy of it. There were millions of men totally fucked over before you showed up asking for the world to stop around your problems.
Face it. You did nothing to help them. You didn’t even care.
Quit asking for things and become part of the solution. You obviously still have internet. Spend the next few days reading through this site. Study the men and women who are actually doing things, and fucking find something to do to help.
Your life as you know it is probably over. Turn that fact into part of the solution, turn it into a way to fight back, or turn your ass somewhere else.

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