When I was a senior in high school, a friend introduced me to DeadJournal. It was my first and only outlet at the time. I knew my mother would never allow it, so I created it in secret. I wrote very obscure posts about my pain. I never wrote anything specific, for fear of my mother finding out.
And sure enough, my mother walked into my bedroom one night and searched my computer. DeadJournal popped up. She interrogated me, asking what it was. I told her it was an online journal I was looking at. She flipped. She told me I was not allowed to write about feelings. I was punished, thankfully less severe as I would have been had she seen what I actually wrote. But I never wrote in it again.
That journal was supposed to be for me. It was my opportunity to write how I felt, and that was taken away from me. Just like everything else was taken away from me.
I started writing after I ran away, because I knew my mother wouldn’t be able to take that away from me again. I could write what I felt, without anyone telling me what I should or shouldn’t write.
I didn’t go into this blog expecting anyone to read it. I did it for me, as a way of getting things out that I held in for so long. That was the purpose.
Along the way, a lot more people started reading my blog. Mostly strangers, and people who started out as strangers that I now have come to care about. And then people from my real life started reading. Then I wasn’t so anonymous. I couldn’t hide in my writing anymore. I was exposed. I learned to be okay with that, because people were supportive. In some ways, it reconnected me with people from my old life who were forced away from me by my mother.
Even with all of that, my writing never changed its purpose. I wrote for me. I write for me. If you don’t like it, don’t read what I write. If you feel the need to decide what I should or shouldn’t be writing about, don’t read it. This is my writing. This is my life.I write about my struggles. I write about my PTSD and DID. I write about the things that affect me.
I don’t write about my morning coffee. I don’t write about mundane shit. That doesn’t affect me. My writing isn’t sunshine and rainbows, because I’m not sunshine and rainbows. I’m not here to make anyone look good. I don’t even make myself look good.
I don’t want to hear anyone telling me what I should write. I will not be controlled again. This is MY space. If my mother ever came to me and told me to stop writing so negatively about her, I would tell her to fuck off. Perhaps she should have not done the things she did in the first place that led me to write in such a way.
This sentiment applies to anyone who thinks the same. If you want to read my writing and be supportive, rock on. If you want to read my writing and criticize, you can go away. I have enough to deal with already.
Now, since I got that all out, I have a dilemma.
My therapist asked me last session if I thought it would be beneficial for her to read my blog before our sessions. On an intellectual level, I understood her reasons for suggesting that. I wrote about my issues with communication before. It’s still a problem. I can write much easier than I can speak out loud, even with my therapist.
My therapist knows about this blog; she has since the beginning. But she told me in the beginning that she would not read it, and I was okay with that. I didn’t really think my writing was all that substantive back then anyway.
For some reason, when my therapist brought it up this time, I had a strong negative reaction. Perhaps it was the timing. I have recently been dealing with some people who feel the need to dictate what I should and shouldn’t write in my blog (hence my mini-rant just before). I think I may have transferred my anger about that onto my therapist.
I know my therapist is not out to criticize or judge my writing, or even my life. But I feel like I am losing my safe space a bit. I started out being able to write whatever I wanted, and now I have people in my life trying to change that. What if I wanted to hide here? What if I wanted to write something really horrible? Can I do that without receiving backlash?
I trust my therapist more than any human being, past, present, and probably future. I have told her things I would never tell another person, things I would never even write about here. But what if something came up that I didn’t want to tell her? I wouldn’t have a place to put those thoughts anymore. I’d have to keep them inside, like I did for most of my life. I don’t want to do that anymore.
On a realistic level, I see the benefits. On an emotional level, I feel invaded.
I just want to be able to hide. But do I really need to?
Life Without Hurt 
To whoever is trying to dictate what you write or what you share – I say mind your own business – what KJ chooses to write about is for her and is her own choice and butt out of it.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, drives me crazier than when someone tries to dictate my feelings or emotions or outlets.
I don’t know what I would do about the T and blog situation. I set out to never give A this URL and as far as I’m concerned I will stick to that, and share it only if I re-write it or copy/paste it to a word document – but that’s me. I say follow your instinct. Xx
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Thank you.
I’m debating all the pros and cons. Maybe T and I can meet somewhere in the middle. I’ll work it out somehow.
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Concerning your therapist reading your blogs….I wonder if there is more options. What if you continue to keep your blog private from your therapist but email her copies of posts that you want to share with her? I understand you writing only for you. Thats how I write mine. As if I am the only one reading it. For me it has been so very healing. I dont think your counselor would be upset by you keeping it private. I suspect she would be very proud if you bravely told her your concerns. P.S. about negative comments: I am appalled that others would seek to hurt you by trying to control what you write on your blog. My counselor is a little concerned about the allowed comments at the end of posts but for right now its okay. If its ever not okay I guess I have to reassess. I am so sorry that you continue to have problems with mean people that insist on inserting themselves into your life. I hope you know that they have a problem….and it has nothing to do with you.
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I know she wouldn’t be upset. I think she wants to understand the reasoning behind why I wouldn’t want her to read (is it about trusting her, or hiding, etc) and that’s also what I can’t quite figure out.
And thank you. I know it’s not my problem. Thankfully I’ve never had a problem with people commenting. It’s the people “in real life” that are a problem, and I can’t block them
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The number one rule about public blogging for me is “Protect yourself.” How you do that is up to you, but if the negative comments about what you’re writing is too much or impeding on your need to write freely, I suggest you password protect the blog posts you feel are super personal, or password protect all of it if it makes you feel better. You can always give the password out to the people you know and trust. As for your therapist, I have a separate private blog space that only she and I can access and I put the things I want her to know on there. Maybe that’s an option? I think your blog here is a very important part of your healing and I don’t want you to compromise that outlet because of others opinions.
It’s really nice your therapist is interested enough to want to read your blog 🙂
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I would never password protect everything. It prevents people from finding out potentially helpful things, which is how many found this blog. People think that I should write more about them, or not write so negatively, etc. I just need them to know that my blog isn’t about them. I shouldn’t have to change to make them feel better.
A separate blog is something I didn’t think about. I may consider that.
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What a good idea Sirena – the separate blog where it’s meant just for them.
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My therapist knows I have a blog but only reads things that I copy into a separate document and send to her as a PDF. I like that better because it gives me the freedom to write about how much she has hurt me at times (never intentionally, of course), and I haven’t had to soften it to avoid hurting her.
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I ended up agreeing that she could read my blog (not past posts, only current for now). It has helped tremendously because she knows what I am struggling with so I don’t have to make the first move in starting a conversation, and she knows when I’m consciously avoiding something that’s bothering me.
I try to be honest and tell her when something she says or does hurts or bothers me, and she can usually tell right away, too. But I do wonder if at some point I would want to hide something like that from her. I guess I’ll take a chance and hope that never happens.
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