It’s funny how when you’re not on Facebook people think
you’re dead or worse. But in this case that was not the case. No funeral. No hearse.
Sorry to disappoint since many of you expressed your desire for my
demise, drowning in drama and bullshit and lies. Instead of continuing to repeat
myself, deplete myself, I chose instead to retire, stop looking, closed my
eyes.
No I didn’t die. Lots of things around me and inside me died for sure. So I guess you could say I was in mourning. I also had the doctor ordering me to avoid stressful situations and just Not. Sign. On. It was that simple. The world wouldn’t end. People had already made up their minds. . Every choice I had in front of me was bad so I chose what was best for me, for my sanity. I had already said everything I had to say, everything that needed to be said. No matter what action I took or what words I said people were gonna see it tinted through the lens they had already chosen.
No I didn’t die. Lots of things around me and inside me died for sure. So I guess you could say I was in mourning. I also had the doctor ordering me to avoid stressful situations and just Not. Sign. On. It was that simple. The world wouldn’t end. People had already made up their minds. . Every choice I had in front of me was bad so I chose what was best for me, for my sanity. I had already said everything I had to say, everything that needed to be said. No matter what action I took or what words I said people were gonna see it tinted through the lens they had already chosen.
Those who knew me
knew better. Those who didn’t, didn’t matter. No one lost their life savings, at the worst a
week worth of coffee, for most a couple packs of cigarettes. What they lost
paled in comparison to what I did. No amount of money could compare to the
death of my faith in people, the death of friendships I thought were forever,
the death of an idea, of a dream, of the project I worked so hard on and the
temporary death of my sanity. I put a lot of work into that project only to
have it sabotaged at the last minute by the people who did the least amount of
work and who were “involved” in the project for the least amount of time. I
went into the whole thing trying to show that our principles worked, that we
could successfully use them to complete a project. Of course I should’ve known
better. Being a self proclaimed anarchist/voluntaryist/libertarian does not
make people any different than the rest of the population. I held the false
notion that our community didn’t have the mean girls, the asshole popular kids,
the bullies, and the vindictive childish behavior that the rest of the general
population had in abundance. I was terribly wrong. I thought people that
claimed to hold certain beliefs wouldn’t behave in certain ways that are
diametrically opposed to them. Wrong again. It seems that sometimes the people
with the biggest mouths that spout this philosophy also have the hardest time
living by it.
When the whole thing started to go south I promised myself I wasn’t going to handle it the way I did back in high school. The way I handled bullies and mean girls then was to psychologically, mentally and emotionally destroy them with the truth about themselves. I would call them out and destroy their reputations to the point that they wanted to kill themselves. Humiliate them publically. Then finish the more violent ones off with a little violence of my own and beat them within an inch of their lives. But I was determined to not respond in like to the assassinations on my character. Which was extremely difficult considering the people out front leading the charge against me were the most vocal in their fabrications, exaggerations, misdirection and smears, because the skeletons in their closets were piled to the ceiling. I’ve never kept my skeletons in the closet. All of mine have always been out in the open.
The most infuriating one came from the town drunk. You see there is a difference between a junkie and an addict just as there is a difference between a drunk and an alcoholic. Only one of us deserved to be properly be labeled with the pejorative version of the term and it wasn’t me. And beyond being infuriating it was painful because the reason said drunk asshole knew of my addiction wasn’t because I have made it an open fact, because I have, but because when said drunk asshole attempted to try recovery I personally went to him and offered my support and told him how hard I knew it was and how proud I was of him and I told him my story and that I was also in recovery. So he used a moment of me being supportive of him, even though I have always thought he was a prick, to try to destroy my character and paint me in a negative light. I don’t think it gets much lower than that. But I don’t think anyone expects anything but low from him so I didn’t feel the need to retaliate with my own character assassination at the time. He does a good enough job of character suicide himself.
As for his welfare comment about me I think I’ve made it quite clear many times that I see taking money from the government as restitution for theft. There is nothing anti libertarian about taking money from a government that takes money from you. My receiving food stamps in just a drop in the bucket in the grand scheme of things compared to the grand theft they’ve perpetrated on me in the form of taxes. If I could take more money from the government I would.
The other main culprit has such disgusting skeletons in her closet I didn’t come out with them because her children are involved in hers and I didn’t feel the need to put their horrid lives out there for the whole world to see. It’s not their fault they have a tragically unfit mother. And that’s still as far as I’m willing to go when it comes to that. I’m not naming names in this instance for the above stated reasons but the old me wanted to so badly while she was assassinating my character considering she herself has no character.
This person was also responsible for the fact that I was then attacked by cyber bullies who made it damn near impossible for me to do anything related with the project, or anything else for that matter, online since I’m a dumbass and had the same password for pretty much everything and I had made all that information “public” in the private group for the project that certain people then made public public along with all my personal information. Which by the way was quite scary and frankly dangerous since anyone including a creepy real life stalker I had at the time now had everything they needed to call my personal phone, show up on my doorstep and do god knows what to me. This community is well known for its computer savvy geeks who live in their parents basements with nothing better to do with their time, so when they were instructed by a “mildly attractive once you add make-up and photoshop” female to attack me that’s what they did with all their loser might. She couldn’t bear to be proven wrong. God forbid I actually get done what I had to get done when it came to the now defunct project. She’d be exposed for the drama queen she was. So she used her only power, the power of sexuality over under sexed males, to make sure her prophecy was fulfilled. That was pretty much the nail in my coffin. With no access or hindered access to damn near any account associated with the project I was screwed.
Despite everything that happened I tried and if I don’t say so myself I succeeded in staying above all the grimy, slimy drama and poo slinging personal attacks that were being flung my way at a staggering rate on a near constant basis. But it got to the point where I was gonna have blood on my hands if I didn’t step away from the situation quickly. So that’s what I chose to do.
In the year since I’ve spent some time in an institution recovering from what is commonly referred to as a nervous breakdown although there is no such thing medically. As all of you well know I am crazy. Some of you know the extent of it more than others. I have six mental health diagnoses. So in laymen’s terms I am bat shit nuts. So quite predictably this whole situation sent me into a tail spin I needed medical attention to claw my way back out of. I debated going public with this fact because I feel like it makes it look like they kind of won in that they literally actually drove me crazy which I’m sure was their intent. But really I already was crazy so it didn’t take much gas to get there, maybe just an exit or two on the loony tunes highway. But I got off and pulled into the first rest stop so I didn’t hurt myself or someone else. I decided making that fact public was ok because I see that as a commendable action and nothing to be ashamed of. There’s nothing wrong with getting help when you need it. That’s a fact that I’ve struggled with my whole life since I’m supposed to be the strong one, but its true. Everyone needs help sometimes and asking for it is a sign of strength, not weakness.
During my hiatus from facebook and the activist community I have been working on myself and my coping skills to deal with these types of things if they should happen again, which they almost inevitably will if I choose to continue to put myself and my work out there for the world to see and judge as a public figure. “Just ignore the haters” and such things I was told by other supportive people I know who work in the public spotlight are nice ideas and fine and dandy to just say, but in reality it is much, much harder than you think . It’s easy to say you don’t care what other people think, but extremely difficult to actually apply to your life. As a certain someone who has always been there for me said “If you don’t have haters you’re doing something wrong.” And “haters gonna hate girl, brush your shoulders off.” “They’re just jealous because nobody cares about what they have to say and they ain’t doin shit with their lives.” I’m getting better at actually internalizing all that.
So in light of everything I’ve just said I will be returning to facebook in small steps as to not overwhelm myself. I am under no illusions that this will be easy or that all the drama from last year will just disappear but I am better prepared and equipped to deal with it…. I hope. Let it be known that anyone who attempts to start any shit or interrupt my peace will summarily be ejected from my page so mind you’re p’s and q’s. I refuse to be dragged back into any more life sucking bullshit. I’m too old, frail and mentally unstable to deal with any poopoo caca from anyone. I just don’t have the energy or the will to deal with it. Facebook is supposed to be a place to post silly kitty pictures, an escape and a place to organize and a place to stay informed, not a high school locker room. So in summation… the bitch is back and she’s not takin any shit from anyone.
When the whole thing started to go south I promised myself I wasn’t going to handle it the way I did back in high school. The way I handled bullies and mean girls then was to psychologically, mentally and emotionally destroy them with the truth about themselves. I would call them out and destroy their reputations to the point that they wanted to kill themselves. Humiliate them publically. Then finish the more violent ones off with a little violence of my own and beat them within an inch of their lives. But I was determined to not respond in like to the assassinations on my character. Which was extremely difficult considering the people out front leading the charge against me were the most vocal in their fabrications, exaggerations, misdirection and smears, because the skeletons in their closets were piled to the ceiling. I’ve never kept my skeletons in the closet. All of mine have always been out in the open.
The most infuriating one came from the town drunk. You see there is a difference between a junkie and an addict just as there is a difference between a drunk and an alcoholic. Only one of us deserved to be properly be labeled with the pejorative version of the term and it wasn’t me. And beyond being infuriating it was painful because the reason said drunk asshole knew of my addiction wasn’t because I have made it an open fact, because I have, but because when said drunk asshole attempted to try recovery I personally went to him and offered my support and told him how hard I knew it was and how proud I was of him and I told him my story and that I was also in recovery. So he used a moment of me being supportive of him, even though I have always thought he was a prick, to try to destroy my character and paint me in a negative light. I don’t think it gets much lower than that. But I don’t think anyone expects anything but low from him so I didn’t feel the need to retaliate with my own character assassination at the time. He does a good enough job of character suicide himself.
As for his welfare comment about me I think I’ve made it quite clear many times that I see taking money from the government as restitution for theft. There is nothing anti libertarian about taking money from a government that takes money from you. My receiving food stamps in just a drop in the bucket in the grand scheme of things compared to the grand theft they’ve perpetrated on me in the form of taxes. If I could take more money from the government I would.
The other main culprit has such disgusting skeletons in her closet I didn’t come out with them because her children are involved in hers and I didn’t feel the need to put their horrid lives out there for the whole world to see. It’s not their fault they have a tragically unfit mother. And that’s still as far as I’m willing to go when it comes to that. I’m not naming names in this instance for the above stated reasons but the old me wanted to so badly while she was assassinating my character considering she herself has no character.
This person was also responsible for the fact that I was then attacked by cyber bullies who made it damn near impossible for me to do anything related with the project, or anything else for that matter, online since I’m a dumbass and had the same password for pretty much everything and I had made all that information “public” in the private group for the project that certain people then made public public along with all my personal information. Which by the way was quite scary and frankly dangerous since anyone including a creepy real life stalker I had at the time now had everything they needed to call my personal phone, show up on my doorstep and do god knows what to me. This community is well known for its computer savvy geeks who live in their parents basements with nothing better to do with their time, so when they were instructed by a “mildly attractive once you add make-up and photoshop” female to attack me that’s what they did with all their loser might. She couldn’t bear to be proven wrong. God forbid I actually get done what I had to get done when it came to the now defunct project. She’d be exposed for the drama queen she was. So she used her only power, the power of sexuality over under sexed males, to make sure her prophecy was fulfilled. That was pretty much the nail in my coffin. With no access or hindered access to damn near any account associated with the project I was screwed.
Despite everything that happened I tried and if I don’t say so myself I succeeded in staying above all the grimy, slimy drama and poo slinging personal attacks that were being flung my way at a staggering rate on a near constant basis. But it got to the point where I was gonna have blood on my hands if I didn’t step away from the situation quickly. So that’s what I chose to do.
In the year since I’ve spent some time in an institution recovering from what is commonly referred to as a nervous breakdown although there is no such thing medically. As all of you well know I am crazy. Some of you know the extent of it more than others. I have six mental health diagnoses. So in laymen’s terms I am bat shit nuts. So quite predictably this whole situation sent me into a tail spin I needed medical attention to claw my way back out of. I debated going public with this fact because I feel like it makes it look like they kind of won in that they literally actually drove me crazy which I’m sure was their intent. But really I already was crazy so it didn’t take much gas to get there, maybe just an exit or two on the loony tunes highway. But I got off and pulled into the first rest stop so I didn’t hurt myself or someone else. I decided making that fact public was ok because I see that as a commendable action and nothing to be ashamed of. There’s nothing wrong with getting help when you need it. That’s a fact that I’ve struggled with my whole life since I’m supposed to be the strong one, but its true. Everyone needs help sometimes and asking for it is a sign of strength, not weakness.
During my hiatus from facebook and the activist community I have been working on myself and my coping skills to deal with these types of things if they should happen again, which they almost inevitably will if I choose to continue to put myself and my work out there for the world to see and judge as a public figure. “Just ignore the haters” and such things I was told by other supportive people I know who work in the public spotlight are nice ideas and fine and dandy to just say, but in reality it is much, much harder than you think . It’s easy to say you don’t care what other people think, but extremely difficult to actually apply to your life. As a certain someone who has always been there for me said “If you don’t have haters you’re doing something wrong.” And “haters gonna hate girl, brush your shoulders off.” “They’re just jealous because nobody cares about what they have to say and they ain’t doin shit with their lives.” I’m getting better at actually internalizing all that.
So in light of everything I’ve just said I will be returning to facebook in small steps as to not overwhelm myself. I am under no illusions that this will be easy or that all the drama from last year will just disappear but I am better prepared and equipped to deal with it…. I hope. Let it be known that anyone who attempts to start any shit or interrupt my peace will summarily be ejected from my page so mind you’re p’s and q’s. I refuse to be dragged back into any more life sucking bullshit. I’m too old, frail and mentally unstable to deal with any poopoo caca from anyone. I just don’t have the energy or the will to deal with it. Facebook is supposed to be a place to post silly kitty pictures, an escape and a place to organize and a place to stay informed, not a high school locker room. So in summation… the bitch is back and she’s not takin any shit from anyone.
