Why does anyone blog? I've reached a discouraged point in my bloggery, not because I have nothing to say, but because I've become afraid to say it. Fear has taken my voice. We live in a world in which every byte is recordable, able to be taken out of context and wielded against us. Why does anyone say anything at all in such a world?
Because of my blog, I have been threatened to be kicked out of nursing school, harassed online, and personally and professionally attacked. Some people really don't have enough to do.
Apparently I don't either, because I miss writing, and writing for people to read. Obviously nothing is stopping me from journaling and whatnot, but at some point creativity is meant to be shared. Writers write because they have something to say and humans don't typically talk to themselves only. Bloggers blog because they have experienced the "me, too" feeling that you get when you read something that really resonates with you and want to return the favor.
I'm sick of thinking, "oh, I'd like to blog about that," and then thinking of half a dozen reasons I shouldn't do it. About the only thing I feel safe writing about is my pets, and sometimes not even then. You really have to be psychotically anonymous or totally transparent these days, and I don't have the energy to go underground. I've learned that people really will go to the trouble to unearth things that I had no clue anyone would care about ever. So I have learned helplessness about being anonymous.
Some whacko even reported this blog to my professional agency, who promptly dismissed the complaint as "obviously vindictive," but that kind of thing is neeeeeearly enough to make me want to bury myself and fly completely under the radar forever.
I was raised to believe that people should do the right thing, and that thing usually involved speaking up and consequences be damned. I don't think freedom of expression is served by allowing fear to stop me from keeping a two-bit blog, because that is where things start. Surely important people who actually have important things to say are lurking on the silent sides of their keyboards as well, roped by similar ghosts of dread and what-if.
When it comes down to it, all the people who have objected to things I've written have been offended by them. And you can't be offended by things that don't hit home. It's the old thing about the giraffe: if someone calls you a giraffe, you're not offended, because you know you're obviously not a giraffe.
The thing I don't understand is, if I hated giraffes, I wouldn't read giraffe blogs. When past coworkers complained about my blog, I suggested they read any of the millions of other available blogs instead. Why do people insist on gravitating toward things that upset them? I NEVER watch Fox News.
I feel like I should be able to point to some really gnarly offensive truth-seeking posts I've written that I could hold up and say, "I've gotten in all kinds of trouble for THIS REALLY IMPORTANT THING." But I've never said anything particularly important, at least not compared to things I've wanted to write and would have written if I could have. Again I point to all the no-doubt silenced voices that we could be reading, if it weren't for bullying and fear.
I think I need to have a voice for my own mental and spiritual health. I just don't know how to speak anymore.