The “Why?” Of blogging
I’m forever trying to figure out what I’ve done in this life to attract abusive, malevolent, intrusive, selfish, violent – verbal, physical and bullying – behaviour from two faced judgemental “perfect” people.
It still continues, without direct contact – unprovoked.
There will be more exploratory blogs of processing that will be written before I can turn my back on many and try to restart what’s left of my lifetime
The reasons for my writing have always been as a therapy journal. Especially when I was seeing a Rape Counsellor.
In the beginning it was because I couldn’t speak. Literally. I would stare at the floor, my coffee cup, through the window. I didn’t know the words to say.
Journaling was recommended as a starting point to discuss my thoughts and the mental health support I required reliving trauma. It was also helpful to deal with the harassment I was receiving online, as I found my voice.
Through new Twitter followers, I was then encouraged to write and make my thoughts and frustrations public.
It took a long time to find my own thoughts. Not those I’d been told were mine. I’m still an unwanted interloper in some quarters. I don’t belong with sex bloggers. Apparently. In life as in writing, I attract those damaged and living their own emotional pain and anger. I’ve not had more than ten months on my little section hosted on melodyInsights.com. Yet still causing ripples in someone else’s pond.
Editorial subbing gave structure to my usual AK-47 rapid fire of bullets. A few unfortunately caught as collateral damage.
I always felt sad for one incident in particular. Once hit by the ricochet, intended for someone else that repeatedly insulted me.
I finally let loose.
That third public attack, aimed directly at me, deliberately attaching a third person, was too much for me to process that morning.
It was a time of extreme discovery of my past and, coupled by deliberate triggering from mindWizard.
Definitive moments that proved his true contempt for me was repeatedly meted.
I had found my voice but I’d not yet learnt how to use it. Effectively.
I apologise to @19Syllables for being caught in that incident.
Lately, I ask myself questions and work through my thoughts.
My writing is still heavily sanitised. There is still so much more. Information I will never share. Details I couldn’t share in therapy.
Inappropriate and invasive – ( Badly timed? Absolutely) – ill thought out questions and insensitive unsolicited content/attachments addressed to my DM have mostly ceased and the inquirers have departed to new pastures to get their jollies.
We all have facets to our personalities that would horrify if held accountable.
Others take great online joy pointing out my faults and failings. What a surprise, they don’t accept my responses with the same candour when detailing their own shocking attitudes.
Majority of us don’t see our own faults.
We only find faults, failings and negativity within others.
These perfect specimens – they are so much better than most of us. Invincible and knowledgeable.
Highlighting everyone else’s failing but denial of their own misdemeanours. Upon magnification, we must own our twisted, delusional, unhappy ways. We show folk our own squalid pain and suffering. The higher up the food chain we get, the bigger the drop from grace.
We are the modern day “Wizard of Oz” hiding behind the green curtain.
There are many guilty of far worse by design than I’ve demonstrated by accident – I choose to not screenshot the most recent “wonderful all inclusive community camaraderie” displayed on the timelines.
Those same folk that repeatedly judge me.
My writing harnesses my fragmented journey through sexual assault, rapes and most recently – d/s abuse. Where one memory will attach to another and cause a catalytic explosion of emotion in one place. Instead of hemorrhaging inside a real time frame of tweets, writing allows my thoughts to go from #SwirlStorm to a whisper.
Those former times on the TL ? I felt I should respond. It was an old conditioning to be respectful of others and reply. When a “PhuqueOrf ” was all that was deserved.
My writing (blog posts) have given me greater control of my TL. Those that rarely show respect, unless they want something for themselves, can be comfortably handled without causing me stress.
Writing as an online journal to work through my life
I write for me.
I’m always surprised when told, how many times a piece of writing has been read (not my blog site, no access of stats).
It’s overwhelming to receive comments.
To be heard.
To receive peer review (to date 1 highlighted post, 1 top 3 and 1 resource piece, thank you very much, which are always unexpected and a nod to maybe becoming accepted by several.
To read comments that others relate, in part to my words. It Always stuns me when I’m alerted to comments after reading my words, that people take the time to comment.
I’m not clinically insane.
I write because I have decades of things to say.
I write because I’ve always been silenced.
@Swirlingfire, 24 August 2019