Bloody sod you then!

I’ve been having a bit of a crisis of faith over this blog recently. There was a period where I was unsure of whether to continue. It’s been a learning curve, and I’m not ashamed to say that I haven’t always got it right. It’s very easy to get caught up in the therapeutic process and forget about the repercussions. In fact, the only reason that I can write this blog is that I chose, wholeheartedly, to leave my shame and guilt at the door. Part of the process of therapy and recovery is coming to terms with what you’ve done in the past, owning up to it, learning why you did it and then moving forward without making the same mistakes. I have owned up to what I’ve done, I have come to terms with all my failings and my glaring errors, and I’ve made my peace with them. Most of them anyway.

I knew when I started to write this blog, that there were people I wouldn’t want to see it, but that they probably would, this being the internet after all. I had to be prepared for them to see everything I had to say, for them to judge and to criticise, and for me to be ok with that. There was no point in going ahead otherwise. I considered this, I accepted it and I went into this with my eyes open. I was fully prepared for this to happen, there is nothing in these posts that I’m ashamed to have written, and I can hand-on-heart say that I truly do not mind who reads it, or for that matter what they have to say about it.

I recently discovered that this is happening, that there are a couple of readers who come here simply to rubberneck. They show up sceptical, ready to judge, and they leave morally outraged at the weakness of a person who has the audacity to be writing about mental health, weight problems, addiction and other such unspeakable subjects. I expected to be hurt, to be offended, to at least be a little annoyed, but I wasn’t. To be honest I was surprised at how little I cared. I was also amazed that anyone would spend valuable time reading the blog of a person they dislike. I imagine them aghast in front of the screen, angry and affronted, but unable to look away, stuffing popcorn into their open mouth whilst muttering “terrible!” under their breath. Then, laughably, demanding that I stop posting, as if they have any bearing on my life at all.

I have made mistakes though. In my little personal journey towards recovery I have caused upset to others. And for this I am sorry. The point of therapy is not to improve your own situation at the cost of someone else’s, and I will be mindful in future of what I write regarding other people. I will not, however, limit or edit anything I write about myself. There is one person in the world with the right to dictate what I write here, how I write it and whether I write it at all, and that person is me.

I cordially invite those who do not agree to stop reading, or forever hold their thoroughly irrelevant peace.