Judge Me

I laugh when people talk behind my back about me. It really doesn't bother me, it's fear, and it's not mine. Writing and blogging is what I do to let off steam, to vent frustration, or to self-soothe. I am not hurting anyone, ever. However there are those who are no longer in my circle who STILL read this blog. To those people I give recognition here:

Judge me, I don't care. You have no power over me, you won't ever have any power, so run your fool mouth, make assumptions, read into my bluntness and let your paranoia feed your ego into believing that every post is about you. It's not, it's about ME, it's about MY life, MY feelings, MY thoughts, MY recovery. ME. If you don't understand it, you aren't supposed to. If you don't like it, don't read it. If it makes you angry, go punch your wall. If it makes you sad, go have a good cry. If it makes you horny, go fuck yourself. If you are uncomfortable with my blog, you might consider working with someone to overcome your fears, doubts, and insecurities of self.

This is my blog, it is for me. I don't associate my name to it, this way it is somewhat anonymous. I don't feel it's going to make me millions, or gain me notoriety, I do not find my ranting to be of any literary genius, I just write, it's what I do. People are afraid of me because I speak and write about things that are difficult for them to say out loud. I don't do this for anybody but me, and it keeps me from acting out in ways that would get me arrested or hurt, even killed.

I write in a public blog instead of a private journal because I believe it can help people. Sometimes, people feel the same way, people who don't know me, people in another place in the world. Sometimes I identify with people that I have nothing in common with, people whose lives would never cross with mine through any other forum. My blogs are not self help articles, I am not a shrink or a philosopher. I have no credentials that can help fix anyone, but if you have issues, I can tell you what works for me, and how I began my journey.

Who knows, I might catch the attention of someone who truly feels alone in this world, someone who is at the end of their rope, who may be screaming desperately for someone to understand them, and no one is answering. I was that person. I was misunderstood. I was all alone and frightened. I was about to take my own life. I desperately wanted to fit in somewhere, anywhere. Today I do fit in, not always, not every day, but today, I  am sure that I belong in this world and even though I am whacky, I am loved.