Family Ties

Originally posted by Aunt Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka.

It started back in January. While I’m not one to dwell on trolls, mean comments, or other such internet tomfoolery, because really, why waste the energy I could spend photoshopping my fake dead cat Mr. Sprinkles into inappropriate pictures?

But this comment came from an IP address in the area local enough that a family member could had written it. It said, in a comment dripping with patronizing condescension (forgive me for paraphrasing), “You’re an addict hiding in plain sight.”

I’ve been accused of many things on my blog (my favorite being “you’re not funny,” because I’ve only ever claimed to be funny LOOKING), but to be called an addict, after being accused of being a drug-seeker by the clinic doctor, that was, well, disheartening. Why?

There’s not a day that goes by that I do not worry I will become an addict. We adult children of alcoholics; we are four times as likely to become addicts, and well, both of my parents are recovering alcoholics, which I’d imagine would increase my own likelihood infinitesimally. I’ve written about it ad nauseum because it’s part of who I am. I’m not shy about hiding my past because I know we’re only as sick as our secrets and I do not wish to live my life shrouded in secrecy, pretending my past was a Norman Rockwell painting.

I cannot be the Secret Keeper. It is not in my nature and it is not something I intend to start doing now. Which is, in part, why I am putting back up the only post I’ve ever removed.

I do not know who made such a patronizing, disdainful comment way back in January (although I have my suspicions) but it was that comment that caused me to pull back inward, sharing with you, My Pranksters; my family, only things that could no longer hurt me. Certainly you could call me an assjacket when I put up a picture of my fake dead cat or ramble on about Mark Zuckerberg and his stupid hair, but none, not a single one would hurt. Not really.

But I played it safe for months, living a [redacted] life, only sharing the things that I thought would keep me safe. And I was right, they did. They also made me miserable.

There’s nothing I love more than coming here, spilling my guts to you, my family, and having a single person pipe in and say, “you know what? I feel that way too.” That’s why I do what I do. There’s little more powerful than knowing someone out there feels just like you do. That I am no longer alone in the universe.

And I’m sorry that a single thoughtless comment led to a mostly [redacted] life. Whomever left the comment doesn’t “know me, the real me;” YOU do. My Pranksters. My family.

You deserve better and so do I. It’s time to speak our truth. In the end, that’s all we have.

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