Under Attack

I’m not naive. I know writing in an online diary opens me up. People can read this and learn things I might not otherwise prefer them to know. Which is why I rarely use real names or places. There are some things I’m vague about. But I’m not naive. I know someone could find this diary and figure out its mine. Is it a risk I take? Yes. But I know that it is a possibility. If someone were to find it, I might be unhappy, but I know I would have no one to blame but myself. They didn’t go searching through my panty drawer or reaching under my mattress. They came in perfectly honestly and legally.

I have a few real friends who read this diary and one OD friend who has crossed the line. Thankfully, he respects my decisions and my need for the line. When confronted with the real people I often talk about, he did not repeat what he has read here. The few real friends who read this diary also know better than to repeat what they read. They wouldn’t betray my trust like that. They wouldn’t betray me.

Except now there is someone who wants to repeat what it written here. I understand that she is doing it from a place of love and caring, but it doesn’t change the fact that she’s ignoring my requests and my decisions. I don’t like secrets. I don’t like having secrets. But I have them and I keep them. I just don’t like it. One of the things this diary has helped me do is get those secrets out there. Like PostSecret, it gives me a place to be honest and open. Well, within reason. I like hearing what people think about the craziness of my mind. I like getting feedback and advice, even if I don’t always follow it. But back to secrets – I wish I could be open and honest with everyone all the time. But I’ve learned through hard experience that I can’t be. There are people in the world who would use things against me or to hurt me. Which is why this is so much harder. She doesn’t want to hurt me. She wants to help me and protect me. I don’t need someone to protect me. I don’t want someone to protect me. I can do that myself. Or rather, I’d like to believe that I can do that myself.

I feel like someone crawled up inside my world and is trying to destroy it, but not from a place from hate. They are trying to help but they are going to destroy. I feel vulnerable and scared and helpless. I never wanted to write in a favorites only or private diary. I never wanted to feel like I couldn’t be that open and honest. But I think thats going to have to change. At least for a little while. Until I feel like the danger is over. Until I feel like I can be open again.