La over at Letters from Exile, recently posted “The Tongue-Tied Blogger“. I relate so much to it, I couldn’t contain myself to a couple of paragraphs on La’s blog.
First of all La – you’re fantastic. And if you’re falling apart, I think those who read your blog are more likely to understand than others. Write what you need to.
I blog anonymously for protection and privacy. I write here in-depth the way I’d never dare verbalise to most people. The content and intensity is scary sometimes.
And I write because this blog is lancing a boil, allowing the pus to seep out so it stops infecting my life, my mind, my body.
It has singularly been the best thing I’ve done for myself other than finding a good therapist.
Yet, if I put my name or face to what I’ve written, I don’t think I could be so open. I know I wouldn’t. I’d be embarrassed beyond belief. So my name is Svasti.
Just like La, whilst you’re privy to intimate thoughts and experiences of mine, you don’t know what I look like or what else goes on in my life. What I’m up to day to day, other thoughts and feelings I don’t share here. These writings are just snapshots in time and space.
A handful of friends have the URL. People I trust. Only some have read what I’ve written. A smaller number have given me feedback. I don’t think any of them subscribe to my RSS feed.
Sometimes I wish I hadn’t told anyone. Knowing there’s a chance a friend might be reading causes me to hold back on things I dearly want to write.
Other times, I’m supremely thankful – I could never express half of what I’ve written in person. And it’s very nice to feel like your friends see you, really see where you’re at and what you’re going through.
There’s a part of me that knows some of those friends will judge me, find me wanting. I’m terrified of that. But conversely, some think what I’m doing is fantastic and I know because they tell me so. I have their support.
But unlike La, I’m not ambivalent about my blog. It’s both helped with my healing process and reignited my writing passion. No matter how average it might be! The creative urge drives me to continue and the more I write, the better I feel.
I definitely don’t want my parents to read this blog, ever. They wouldn’t like it at all and they would definitely judge me.
And certainly, I’ve refrained from talking very much about my parents. Partly because I believe no matter what’s happened, how you live your life from there is your choice and responsibility. But also because I love them no matter what.
Sometimes I write about how I feel right now, other times I’m writing of the past. Sometimes its felt like the past is here in the moment thanks to PTSD. But thankfully much of that has subsided thanks to my therapist and a rather large epiphany I had in Thailand.
The challenge here on my anonymous blog, is keeping track of emerging lines of thought: the chronology of the assault; related side issues; other parts of my life; poetry; rants and everything else.
It’s not chapter by chapter neat and orderly. Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by stories that seem to have lives of their own.
But I write because I must and I’m glad to have connected with a number of virtual friends in my bloggy pixelated world. Zeros and ones to you all!