In Which I Confront My Would Be Stalker

Dear Readers,

You're awesome.

Seriously.

I cannot even begin to express how wonderful all of you are and how much you mean to me.

I know I have been rather removed as of late (partly due to me letting work take over my life), but another part of it is because I have reached a point of compulsive self-editing that has brought my writing process to a completely pathetic halt.

Originally, I thought it was because I was just being picky with myself and the quality of my writing. I expect excellence, and I will not publish something of which I am not proud to share with all of you lovely people.

Sure, I've posted a few times about various random news items that have come across my radar, but I'm sure you have noticed the lack of consistency and frequency of my posts, especially when I used to post every single day. I've promised more times than I can count over the last 6 months that "I'm coming back!!" and to "Prepare for my awesome return to the blogosphere!!" But here I am, still nowhere, still suffering from a gigantic case of writer's block.

What got me here?

I'd love to say that my quest for literary excellence has been the main cause of my lack of creative process, but it isn't. It's definitely a part, but it's only a small part. The compulsive self-editing has reared its ugly head for another, completely different reason.

I've vaguely hinted at it, but over the last year I have received some unwanted attention from a person who used my blog posts in a feeble attempt to pry into my personal life life (that's what I get for posting in a public forum, so I can't really be mad about it) and gather intel in regards to a relationship I have with a close friend of mine.

I believe that my lack of posting (I also disappeared from Twitter and made my Facebook profile hidden along with blocking this particular person) has left this person bored with my inactivity and hope that she has decided that I'm not worth her time. All of that being said, I'm through with crazy stalkers and from this moment forward refuse to let them control when and what I write. 

You hear me? I don't even care if you're reading this post right now. Only I control my writing, and I am ashamed that I gave you so much power over my life, you silly, bat-shit crazy woman. You know who you are, and you are powerless to control me. Powerless.

Whew! You know, I hadn't realized that I was so upset over it, but I am. It really upsets me that I allowed her to play a such a critical part in my creative process, especially when her poisonous vitriol and self-deluded insanity has absolutely nothing to do with me.

Like I said above, I'm pretty sure that my lack of activity has led this woman to believe that I no longer exist on the world wide web, so I am somewhat comforted by the fact that she no longer haunts my blog or keeps tabs on my internet presence. It wouldn't matter, though, because I'm tired of censoring myself. I want my writing life back, and I will write with no holds barred.

Voila. That's that.

Peace.
Stef.

Comments

Jeff Evans said…
That's sad, that somebody would interfere with your creative life like that. I'm glad to see that you're dealing with it!
Lisa Marie said…
You go Stef! I have the same problem - censoring or changing or rewording my blog because I know who reads what I write. It's hard to do, but it's very liberating to get to that place in your head where you can forget everybody else and just do you. You rock - keep it up!

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