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November 20, 2004 ~ Exorcising Demons
Saturday.
October 25th marked the five-year anniversary of this journal. I let it pass quietly because I was quite seriously considering closing Awakened down, or at the very least, drastically changing my personal guidelines for what I write here and how I write here.
Yes, seriously.
On our vacation, I did a lot of thinking, while walking the shore, listening to the waves, collecting shells for hours. Morgan and I did a lot of talking, while watching pelicans glide over the vast waters and dive into the sea, while stalking crabs in the black-stained wasteland-like sand between the waves and the dunes. It was a renewal for me, that week away from home. The Honeymoon we'd never had.
Morgan and I discussed our goals, brainstormed quite a lot about our plans. I delved pretty deeply into a lot of the things that had been causing my recent depression. I made a lot of resolutions for myself, and I've been working on them ever since.
But I didn't know what to do about this journal. Granted, right after one has received a few hate mails and flames isn't exactly the best time to objectively think about whether or not to close one's online journal. But it wasn't just that. It has been months since I've written here regularly. And the writing, when I do it, has been hard.
Granted, I've been much busier in those months. I've had less time to write. But I look back at 2001, when I was writing an entry every single day, all while taking full-time classes and working nearly full-time on top of that. I know that, were I motivated enough, I could make the time to write. Yes, some of that time, I've been depressed, but I really don't think that is the main factor in my lack of updates. No, there was a different block to my posting.
Within the last year, two different people have used entries that I have written here in attempts to badly hurt people I care about. They used my writing to try to make serious, life-shattering changes to lives that I hold very dear. Now, they used my entries in ways that I couldn't have foreseen, and I know that the actions of others are not something that I should be held accountable for, but I still felt pretty horrible knowing that I was even remotely responsible for the pain my loved-ones were experiencing as a result.
I know that the guilt from those instances and the fear that something similar will happen again has certainly been one of the main factors playing into my lack of writing.
I write under my full, true legal name. I do not use aliases for any of the people in my life, except those friends who already have an anonymous online identity (like you and you). I have been quite open about who I am, where I live, what I do, what I believe in. Almost everyone I know in person knows about this journal.
From the beginning, I have always honored a few simple personal rules. I tell only my story here, only the things that affect my life, from my perspective. If anything in an entry involves someone else personally, and blurs those rule lines, I get that individual's permission before I post that entry. I do not write anything about anyone that I would not tell them to their faces. I suppose you'd expect that this would leave me very limited as to what I can write about, but, honestly, there's not much that I cannot talk about, because honesty and openness with the people I know is very important to me, and I do not seek to hide my true emotions. I'd much rather have everything out in the open. So what I write here is still very personal and honest and revealing. I live a very open life.
Unfortunately, though, a few readers have decided to take advantage of that honestly and openness with malicious intent. And it was quite a shock to me to realize that some of the people reading this journal are not reading it because they enjoy getting a peak into my life. Instead, they are reading it in hopes that I'll drop some morsel that they can snatch up and use to hurt someone else.
("Whoa, shocking, there are malicious people out there!" Yeah, I know. I've been rather naive.)
It hurt more than I'd like to admit, realizing that words that I had written with honest and good intent had been twisted and used for harm. I felt, literally, nauseous and heartbroken.
I want to write again. I want to write as I used to. I want this journal to be a more full-fleshed representation of my life. Writing here has allowed me the chance to touch a lot of people, has granted me so many new friendships and wonderful connections, has given me much closer and more fulfilling relationships with countless friends and relatives. Last week, for instance, I got an incredible letter from my mother-in-law that would never have been written but for this journal. I met my closest friend and confidant through this journal. I have traveled to places I would never have seen, learned a great deal about myself that I would never have learned, met some incredible people whom I would never have known, had it not been for this journal.
But, as much as it has brought me, I'd give it all up if it would assure me that my friends and family would be kept safe from the malicious schemes of a few resourceful people. Good grief, I refuse to use a little butter on my toast because it would harm a cow, I can hardly stand to know that something of my creation--my writing--has been used in such hurtful attempts.
That's the thing, though. There are malicious people out there. If I quit this journal, they will find other tools to accomplish their aims. My intent, in my words, is to share, to love, to grow, to be honest. I can't live my whole life in a closed off box, for fear that peaking out will let in a little rain.
I don't know what the point of this whole long rambling entry is, except to say:
I'm back, I'm writing, and I'm not going to be scared any more.
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