Perhaps I should only speak in fiction anymore...

 Perhaps I should only speak in fiction anymore…

People seem to like the fiction that I write and the art that I create (particularly fan work)… it’s not perfect and I am glad for people who point out flaws and things that could be better.  (I have, at times, been smacked out of doing stuff that was really stupid when talking fiction-writing with people. It’s a good thing).  Yet, I seem to be increasingly aware of a hard truth in my life:  When I write a story – I get called a good writer.  When I actually express opinions and stray thoughts outside of fiction – on or offline the reaction is “Oh, my God, she’s crazy! Run away!” 

I’m serious.  I mean, I post stuff on this blog and hear crickets.  Okay, so some people do enjoy talking with me – they tend to be as crazy as I am, or even more nuts.  (Oh, the little stories my guy comes up with on drives when we see something interesting on the side of the road!  A recent trip involved “ice-cream disappointment!” and a fictional man who lived in a firehouse and refused to wear pants).  0_o  (It gets even weirder when my guy’s nephew is involved.  I love our car trips). As for more serious topics, hey, I occasionally chat with some longtime AIM-friends and on the shoutbox with folks at a fandom board… but, even there… I’ve learned to hold back.  I have learned to hold back because it seems like whenever I expose my heart to anyone or any group, it gets torn out and I walk away feeling myself devalued. 

I know it’s my own damn fault, too, even when I’m not entirely sure what I did wrong. When did I let a fart? Don’t hint at me. Tell me.

There was a serious spiritual-issues type blog that I went to for a very long time.  (Some of my few watchers were originally met on there).  I commented there, conversed there and felt very well at home – which probably should have been my sign: When I feel comfortable, I get a little too free with my expression and inevitably, well… “fart.”  When I found recently that all my commentary was moderated by default when it never had been before and no one else’s seemed to be moderated (to the point of  not only seeing contention but seeing a known troll getting through on recent threads)… I kind of decided to take the hint.  I know I said a couple of inflammatory things that annoyed the blogger a couple of times (not anything worse than I’ve seen other regulars give him in the ways of criticism or not “getting” something, IMHO), but I was pretty sure I’d long ago apologized and was forgiven…  Otherwise, I do think I know the problem:  It’s not something I do on purpose, it’s just probably my tendency to be verbose, to share a lot of personal stuff I should probably “leave at home” and the like.   

I think that some people, as nice and genuinely caring as they may be – do *not* know how to deal with me.  Things are like that for everybody.  If you were to ask me to watch a severely mentally challenged child or an elderly person with severe dementia for a day, I would be ringing my hands not knowing what to do.  I wouldn’t bear any ill-will, it’s just “I’m not trained for this and it’s outside of my experience.”  I’m like that for a lot of people with my… um… mental “hilarity.”  Something written in a bipolar depression of doomy-dooms or a mania of “I’m typing a mile a minute and cannot stop myself and ooh, there’s the send button!” – my two default states, even medicated – well, I’m sure I just outright *scare* a lot of people. 

Or maybe I really did something really wrong and “should” know what I did but am too damn stupid to. My brain… sucks.

I’m used to this kind of thing – or at least I should be.  My childhood-into-teenhood was filled with friends and cousins “growing away from me,” leaving me wondering why people with whom I used to have slumber parties seemingly-suddenly wanted nothing to do with me, even treating me like I was a stain on their new clothes… I had an online friend whom I haven’t spoken with in almost two years. The last I saw her she was having computer problems, but since she never got back to me and at the time I was being especially neurotic with her, I suspect she just cut me off.  I’d like to know if she’s alive… not to contact her, but just because I’ve been worried…

I am officially Disabled now… can’t keep a normal, job… this plays into it, too.   I’ve experienced job-place discrimination over issues I have with stress even when I’ve informed employers of them ahead of time, and of course, pre-diagnosis, I had a fast food job that I kept for a year where the new management that came after I was hired seemed to be “afraid to fire me” either because of my “seniority” or being afraid of seeing me get emotional, as everyone there knew I was “sensitive.” I, uh, took the hint when my hours were reduced to three hours one day a week that cost me more in gas and time to keep the job than to quit.  I only kept it in that state as long as I did (a couple of months on the low hours) because it was a college-job and I didn’t want to disappoint my parents by quitting instead of sticking it out until things got better.  Once my dad told me what he thought was happening and that he didn’t mind if I quit, I felt free to.

I don’t know. I sometimes feel like maybe I have no business being on this planet, in my species or in existence because it seems like I’m always doing something wrong and no one is willing or able to tell me what it is.  (Or they’re telling me and I’m too dumb and scatterbrained to get it). 

Eh, as for the blog I felt rejection from… I’m sad because the guy who runs it gives so much good advice to people who email him, with a lot of compassion and… now I feel like I will not be able to ask advice from him if I ever run into a situation when I might need it.  I’m pretty sure I’ve been labeled a “troll” or something worse in his mind.   

Everyone bothering to read this:  I don’t have a habit of trolling. I really *am* this crazy.

Posting this because: No one reads this blog – or hardly anyone.  I don’t think I’ve posted anything here that anyone can blackmail or betray me with. I hope not.