I just finished watching the latest episode of Crazy Ex-Girlfriend. I started crying when Dr. Hakopian finally got Rebecca to admit that she couldn’t be in a real relationship with Nathaniel because she wasn’t emotionally equipped. Actually, that’s not the part that made me cry. It was the part where Dr. Hakopian said that Rebecca deserved to be loved.
I’ve been struggling with that my entire life. I can blame most of it on my mean foster sister but both of my parents were messed up and both of their families are messed up so I didn’t really have a chance. Sometimes, I talk to people who say that they had happy childhoods, that they never experienced real stress until adulthood. They miss that feeling of being taken care of, that everything is okay. I never experienced that as a kid. I’ve barely experienced that as an adult.
Recently, I started posting anonymously on a message board, just throwing some dark shit out there, not really wanting a response, just needing to be able to express myself without worrying about how someone who knows me would react. I have gotten some responses that are nice, and some that have reinforced the idea that putting myself out there is a mistake.
I think one woman thought I was Harvey Weinstein. She called me a rapist and told me that she’d kidnapped a member of my family (Not MY family, his I guess?). I deleted all of her messages, and reported all of them and haven’t heard from her again.
I had one girl send 11 messages in 48 hours, insisting that I was her Latina lover, Tanya, and telling me I was cruel for ignoring her. I finally answered her back, to set her straight, and she emailed back, thanking me. Then, today, she emailed again and said that I was a liar and a monster and to not bother answering her because she was blocking me.
Sometimes I think I want to be a published author and sell millions of copies of my books and go on press tours and share my wisdom on life and writing and all of that stuff. But, I mean, maybe five people read the post that this girl responded to, and that was the response I got. I can’t imagine what kind of bullshit I’d be inundated with if a million people read my stuff and were moved to unleash all of their issues on me.
I already have a hard time letting anyone I LIKE or LOVE get to know me. Even though I know better, I’m still afraid that they’ll turn on me, change their minds, stop liking and loving me. How much worse would it be if a bunch of strangers and their various personality disorders got a hold of me?
I’m not shitting on people with those disorders, by the way, I have a fair share of my own, and my mom, who I miss like crazy, had a ton of them. But people get to take in what you put out there, read and interpret it any way they want to, and then attack you. Why would I sign up for that? Why HAVE I signed up for that?
People act like it’s so odd that authors become recluses, and I completely get it. Once you put a piece of yourself out there, people think that they own the whole thing. Every day that goes by, I wonder WHY I thought that being agoraphobic was unhealthy. More and more, it seems like the sanest thing I’ve ever done.