Lucky 13 March 30, 2011

It’s a funny thing- to open your mailbox and expect to get a greeting from a friend or a shipping invoice from yet another late night online shopping binge and instead find yourself  reading an email from someone, a stranger- who is so clearly disappointed in you and angry with you that it almost takes your breath away. Of course, the first instinct is to assume it’s a joke. CLEARLY no one can be that invested in the life of someone they haven’t bothered to ever talk to or email before to send out such an angry note. And so you wait for a follow up- someone explaining it’s a weird prank.

And it doesn’t happen.

So you are left to assume that it’s a legitimate complaint. Which of course, forces you to read the letter again. This time with your stomach wound tightly in knots, your eyes picking out particularly hurtful phrases as your mind races through your blog trying to figure out how exactly something as innocent as writing a post has turned someone so vicious. You read it again. And again. Trying to decipher a hate that you don’t recognize from someone who doesn’t seem to understand you at all. You think about deleting it- and the excruciating negativity that comes with it, but you realize that until you address it, the knot in your stomach is going to be there. Of course, she won’t read this. But I will know I have wrote it. And for me? That’s what matters.

(This was copied and pasted right from the email I received the other day)

Brandy,
You think you are amazing, I get it. You got everyone worked up over your “HAD” and had everyone fawning over you. I checked your blog daily, I cried when you were sad. And then nothing. Now months go by and suddenly your life is perfect again? Gimme a break. I’ve been a long time reader but I’m done with this shit. You aren’t the only blogger who does this, btw. Another one of your friends in the ‘cool group’, made sure the internet knew how sad she was and then all of a sudden, everyone is shitting rainbows and the readers are supposed to cheer and clap. Well guess what? People turn to your blog for support. Not to feel shitty because you managed to solve all your poroblems without ever giving any one an idea on how you managed that. Also? Everyone knows someone who has cancer so I’m not quiet sure why you act like you are the only person who has ever been affected by it. You don’t get to have it both ways, you don’t get a fawning readership who is there to lift you up and expect people to be there when you suddenly are great and don’t explain the rest of the story. Not everyone gets a happy ending, goes to Vegas, has a popular blog and there dream job. Some of us turn to blogs for support, not to be left wondering and be forced to fill in the blanks. I’m disappointed that you would treat long time readers this way. You actually used to be funny or at least interesting. Now you are neither. The only hope you have for a readership is to continue feeling sorry for yourself and milk it for comments. I see your last post only got 11 comments. Welcome to the real world. I guess I’m not the only one who is disappointed in you and your ‘miraculous’ recovery.
Aimee

Dear Aimee,

13 therapy sessions. 2 prescriptions. Countless boxes of kleenex. Numerous 3 am phone calls. Endless panic attacks. Constant apologizes. Weekly iron injections. Is that what you wanted? My road map to recovery? A daily account of how I struggle and fail or struggle and overcome on a daily basis? I am sorry you feel cheated out of my story, it would be hard to follow along and care so much about someone and then not feel updated on how they are doing. As a reader, you become involved in a bloggers life and wish them the best and are invested in them when they expose their struggles, that you can forget that the goal is for people to succeed. To aspire. To not have to write the sad stories because they are living happy lives. But until I sign a book deal to write my autobiography, my life will always be mine- and whether I share or not AND what I decide to share, will always be left up to me.

I feel like there’s a point with everything that has happened where it isn’t just my story anymore- it’s HAD’s and they at times, are so intertwined that one cannot be delicately lifted to share with you without telling the other and his story is not mine to share. It’s much harder than people realize- blogging, especially writing about a source of sadness in your life. I will never, ever regret writing what I did, or how I did it.  I will forever be thankful for those who read my blog and reached out- and continue to do so, to show support. Three months ago, your email would have resulted in a severe panic attack accompanied with hives or a hospital trip. Now? I read it and hope that you get the help you need and that you come to terms with the fact that no one has a perfect life. Your misplaced rage needs a new home. My inbox is full. That’s what 13 therapy sessions has taught me. There’s my road map to recovery.

Brandy