Ever been in the position where you think like half of the Northern Hemisphere has discovered your blog and now hates you, but nobody will say anything, but everyone in your life has suddenly mysteriously disappeared or acts angry towards you and your life keeps getting worse and worse, but you’re afraid to say anything and they’re afraid to say anything, because, well, don’t actions speak louder than words?
But YAY, you do still have all those nice people on the Internet. Its just that everyone in real life totally hates you, but won’t admit it. And you feel bad, although you have never lied about anything while writing in your blog. You have just expressed your opinions, like say, THEY have while they secretly chatted with their friends in the lunch room or in cars about other people. Its just that more people have heard you, since, you know, you write a kick-ass blog. But the reason you write a kick-ass blog is because you have nobody to talk to, so instead you have to have a close personal relationship with your Gateway computer, because your Gateway will always be there for you and never give you the cold shoulder or arbitrarily withdraw their friendship or blow you off. And you’ve even written things about Gateway, like how poky he can be sometimes. And you’ve yelled at him. But he’s a computer and he doesn’t have any feelings which is just fine for you. No fuss, no muss. He’ll never reject you.
Now granted I’m not perfect. In fact, I am possibly the most imperfect person on the entire planet. I’m almost 50 and nobody will hire me. I’m almost 50 and have “substantial mental illness” (as “A” so delicately pointed out Tuesday) and nobody will date me.
So as you can see, things are going swimmingly. Although did you ever take into account, that one of things that might keep me sane is my writing? I mean, unlike some of you, I might not have the luxury of friends or a spouse to go home to to bitch about things with. And also sadly, writing is truly the only thing I’m good at. Sixth grade? My first taste of writing super stardom. A poem about The Matterhorn ride at Disneyland. And then from then on, I was always the Teacher’s Pet in every writing class. It was the only venue I always felt accepted in. So you can imagine my delight when I discovered the world of blogdom. Whoa! A free audience! Granted the first month I was writing, I had no idea anyone was reading. But then it really took off. Now? Well, now it has become both a great sense of pride and a great source of scorn and loss.
What people don’t understand is that I’ve been using writing as a source of therapy since I was 12. Bad-mouthing my Mom in my diary when I was 12. Check! Talking about my gay boyfriend in high school. Check! And like you’ve never said anything snarky about anyone in your entire life, ya damn hypocrite. I mean I don’t want to get all Jesus on you but (paraphrasing here) “Whoever is without sin shall cast the first stone.” I mean here I’m writing anonymously from an anonymous location with anonymous names. I have never printed a picture of anyone other than myself (except a guy in mask once). So WTF? Yes, sometimes I’m angry at you. And yes, maybe I should talk to you personally, but guess what? I have issues. Why do you think I’ve been in therapy for 30 years? So what do I do? I take the whimp’s way out. I play it out on the internet. And do you think I’m the only one who does that? Hardly. Am I proud of it? No. But is it therapeutic to get it out of my system? Yes. And I think if I had more people in my life to talk to about things and not fly-by-nights, who only call me when they need something for instance (and I think you know who you are) I wouldn’t have to do this. Also when you literally have no one in your corner in real life and you only have a bunch of strangers on the internet laughing at your jokes and saying “great job” or “You’re funny”, how are you going to feel? We’re humans. We all need love and acceptance. When you write a blog, its your opinion. When you write a blog, you’re shining people in the light that you want to shine them in. Is it accurate? Sometimes. But that’s how it is when you’re talking about them in person too. Am I right?
Take Charlemagne for instance. I really adore him. He’s very complicated. And he can be very annoying. And yet even when I’m annoyed by him, I still want to be hugged by him because we’re friends. Same thing with “A”. He’s both annoying and wonderful. This week he was very annoying. We had one of the worst sessions in recent history. I’m still really hurting from some of the horrible things he said Tuesday. But I still go back. Why? Because these are the people in MY real life. They’re flawed just like me, but they’re all I have. So see how that works?
Which, I guess, is why I’m so incredibly addicted to the internet. You generally don’t have to feel the sting of somebody’s bad mood. You generally don’t have to feel the loneliness and pain when they ignore your e-mails and calls or they blow you off and you have no idea why. So why am I talking about all this? Because my blog was found by my last place of employment and I lost everything. My ability to be rehired. My services. My access to the funding source that paid for my art classes the last 4 years. All because of my blog. I told ONE person in confidence there. One! Because until then no one else in my real life knew about my blog. Its funny, my mom is always asking me why I keep getting gifts from people on the internet and going to Bob Dylan concerts and stuff and I always sort of have to waffle on the answer. You guys rock, by the way. 🙂 So is there a point to all this? Not really. Except that I’m really lonely. And people have to stop being so damn nosy and let me have a place to be my cranky old sardonic, miserable self. If I have offended you, I’m sorry. And if I haven’t, give me a moment, I’ll think of something….