Down, But Not Out

If you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen.  Alternately, if you can't handle my words, don't read my blog.

I think it's totally lame that I've been forced to create a "hidden" blog that is viewable by invitation only.  Unfortunately, certain people who shall remain nameless have nothing better to do than try to alienate me and drive a wedge between my husband and me.  Ordinarily I'd say, "F--- 'em!"  But trying to divide my house is absolutely unacceptable. 

Lest anyone suggest that I'm being chickensh*t, I can take whatever anyone can dish out and I've taken far worse from others.  However, it's very clear that my husband is tired of the drama and he's hurt by the personal attacks others have made against me.  I know that this nonsense wearies him or he would have never mentioned it to me.  I would do anything to spare my husband any pain and that is what prompted me to stop writing on my "open" blog, Hashbrown and Tater Tots.

Have you ever lived in a fishbowl or under a microscope?  That's kind of what this has felt like for several months.  Certain people have leached onto my words and they've tried to hang their hats on things I have written.  The most contemptible part of the personal attacks against me is that my attackers have twisted my words to suit their own selfish agenda.  This is why I have been censoring myself for the last several months. 

In my grief over my brother's loss, I let my anger and frustration fly.  I want to be perfectly clear:  I don't regret a single word that I wrote.  My only regret is that certain people have hurt my husband by suggesting that I shouldn't be free to write what I feel.  It's my blog and I don't know why they feel compelled to read what I write if it bothers them so f*cking much!

Just by making the suggestion that I censor myself, they have totally invalidated my feelings.  I hate to admit it, but that actually does hurt me.  I expected better from that particular person.

A friend pointed out that blogging has been very therapeutic for me.  And it really has.  I can attest that sometimes ugly things come up from deep down when you are in therapy.  Yes, some ugliness was purged through my former blog.  But I also like to think that some posts were uplifting, helpful, and fun. 

No one is under any obligation to read my blogs - I actually have three now!  You might have an invitation to read this particular blog, but you are welcome to not read it.  You are free to stop reading posts if you don't like what I have to say.  And I am finally free to write what I want without fear of repercussions.

I don't hate anyone, even those who might have earned such an emotion.  Ultimately, I know that I won't hate my attackers.  I'll just consider them with severe detachment.  After all, in order to hate you must care on some level and I just don't care.

Haters gonna hate. . .