I’m a little upset I’ve permanently deleted a huge chunk of posts. I have my reasons, as I’m sure you can imagine. Privacy is now a myth and hiding behind a pseudonym is an illusion, rather delusion, of anonymity.
I’ve never minded saying the things others were afraid to. I’ve also never minded confessing my shortcomings and misdeeds, to the point people joke I should be Catholic. I always want to purge my emotional baggage, but like a bulimic’s coughed up lunch, once the purge is complete, flushing the evidence away is sometimes the best option.
I’m on an advocate kick and feeling very determined to speak up for misunderstood people from many walks of life, not just strippers and other sex workers. But how much am I willing to risk or sacrifice personally?
An alcoholic with an unspecified mental health disorder at my part time office job keeps nagging me about why I take interest in destigmatizing addiction and mental illness. He won’t just accept I have inclinations to call BS on the status quo, he’s trying to pry my personal story out and see just how close to home the causes are for me. As much as I want him to mind his business, I’m guilty of inviting his nosy behavior. He nonchalantly mentioned he doesn’t drink and I had to be the nosy investigative journalist type and ask why, which opened the floodgates of his over-sharing and interrogating.
This blog had a tragic comedy tone before and now I try and just keep it light. Which is both a good thing and a bad thing.