I know it’s been a long time since you’ve heard from me. I want to let you all know that I am ok; I just have had a lot of reasons that have been keeping me from writing or posting.
Lately, I have been feeling a lot of shame about my writing and publicly sharing my story. Why? I learned that my family is embarrassed about my writing and finds me disgusting because of it. Now I can take criticism, I think “can handle having disgusting and/or critical comments thrown at them all day” should be in my job description, the fact that I have a copy paste response for the more creative death threats I receive should say enough about my ability to handle harsh words. I actually appreciate constructive criticism because it helps me learn. This is different; this isn’t some work-related thing that I can distance myself from or a mean comment from an internet troll or a constructive comment from a reader. No, these are people close to me, my own family, and they find me disgusting and they can’t even say it to my face. My mom hates my blog and has discouraged me from writing about certain topics, which kills the “if nobody else will talk about it, I will” point of my blog.
This level of criticism from my own family has absolutely crushed me; I feel heartbroken. I hoped my family would be supportive, when I was throwing around the idea of starting this site they seemed enthusiastic, then I made my first post and I got radio silence. Now, my first original post for this blog was something I expected a family member to find a bit too TMI to read, so I just assumed it was that and happily went on writing. After I had made a few more posts and still hadn’t even received a “like” from them on my posts I got a bit disheartened. When I made the facebook page for this site and not one of my family members “liked” it I got the feeling that they didn’t support my writing anymore. I obviously don’t write this blog exclusively for my family, but I really did expect their support. I also hoped they would read it so they could better understand what I’m going through, I thought they’d care. Then my mom told me how she hated what I posted, told me what the rest of the family was saying about me, and accused me of glorifying drug use and suicide.
I started to question my writing, was I actually being harmful? Was I sharing too much? Was I really humiliating my family? Did I really have any right to be talking about this? Should I delete everything and go back to going through this in silence? After all, a lot of my friends went silent too. I felt so much shame and anger. Aside from my family I also had those words of “you’re not special” ringing in my ears. I’ve heard that from people leading AA meetings, in treatment centers, from my psychiatrist, and from users on basically all of the addiction subreddits. It’s a phrase they drill into your head in some treatment centers and in AA, you’re not special, your life isn’t special, your story isn’t special. While the idea of this makes me sick since I think everyone’s lives and stories really are special, I still started to think what right do I have to be on a platform talking about my struggles and life? What’s so special about me? Why do I seem to think anyone cares about my life? I felt self-absorbed, embarrassed, and ashamed. I’m not special.
During this time I also went into treatment and that took up way too much of my time and energy to allow me to write much, I have kept little daily journals of what was going on that I will share some of in the near future along with a new project I have been working on. I don’t want to share too many details yet, but I’ve had a lot of fun creating this. I have been writing; I just can’t share what I have written until I launch the rest of the project.
Another huge reason I haven’t been writing is because I have been re-traumatized. This will get a post all of its own because it is trigger warning central and a long story, but somebody twisted and used my words against me and did something to me that they knew I had severe trauma relating to. Ever since this chain of events, my brain has been completely fried. I can’t do basic daily tasks, I have panic attacks so frequently I can barely leave the house, I can’t think straight, I can’t close my eyes without seeing things relating to my trauma, I’m having horrific nightmares, I’m disassociating multiple times a day, everything scares me, I can’t even look at my front door without having a panic attack. Just hearing certain words will throw me into a panic attack that will paralyze me for hours and likely cause me to disassociate to a point where I don’t know where I am and I won’t remember anything. It’s horrible; I haven’t been this miserable in a long time, and I’m so angry because I was just starting to get my life back on track again. Clearly, going through all those panic attacks and episodes of disassociation hasn’t left me with enough time, energy, or mental capacity to write anything coherent. These are things I’m still struggling with, so I know my writing will be a bit sloppy and I won’t be able to write anything I’m proud of.
Because of this person’s malice, I have been terrified to share any of my feelings or thoughts at all. This isn’t just an issue with blogging; I can’t journal, I can’t talk to my friends, I can’t even talk to my therapist! I’m so scared I’ll give them or someone else something to twist and hurt me with. Bottling up all my thoughts and feelings isn’t helping my anxiety and depression and is probably making my risk level even higher, but I can’t bring myself to talk because I’m so scared. I don’t want to express anything, even happy things, out of pure terror.
The horrible feelings I got from all of this seemed to build a brick wall in my mind that prevented me from being able to write. I don’t want to write; I’m scared and ashamed to write. This makes me so angry because I feel like a major coping mechanism was stolen from me. All the catharsis I got from writing, all the joy I got from hearing readers feedback and thank you’s, all the pride I had for overcoming major obstacles to make this blog a reality, gone. Just gone. I feel so empty, depressed, and enraged all at the same time.
I need my outlet back, I need to keep being honest because I would have felt so comforted to be able to read about someone’s experience that’s like mine, I also want people to know what living with these conditions is like, raw, real and unfiltered.
I am coming back with fresh content soon! So follow me on social media so you know when the new stuff is coming out, for brief updates on my life, and for a chance to vote in polls for what posts come next.
Thank you so much for reading,
Ps: Oh, I might have a new diagnosis too.