Tuesday, October 19, 2010

The Post-poned post

Isn't it funny how a simple phone call can change things sometimes?

I've struggled with the idea and implementation of anonymity on the internet for years. I'm not sure when it started to matter to me. Probably the first time I was judged for something, and the consequence was astronomically huge. Never mind that the judgment was erroneous. That didn't matter. What mattered then and now, is that I was changed. I learned quickly that being myself wasn't acceptable. So I vacillate between hiding and being completely public. Some days my Twitter time line is public, and other days I get scared and turn everything private. They say that everything that gets put on the internet is there to stay, and that sort of permanency alone is scary.

I'm not good at remaining anonymous. Maybe its the autism. Maybe its my inability to lie about things that are important, or understand why someone would act malicious because of something I wrote. Its probably because I cannot wrap my brain around some things. Why can I look up the most heinous things online that others have written, sometimes depicting death, torture, rape, you name it and its out there... and yet I feel scared posting about my childrens day, or what I had for dinner last night.

It all comes down to shame and the feelings of guilt it conjures up. Inappropriately placed shame. Why is it there? I don't know! I'd like to know. Probably some psycho mumbo-jumbo about being devalued and emotionally abused or neglected. I only know how it makes me feel. I shouldn't get scared and filled with paranoia and anxiety at the smallest thing. I shouldn't be worried that something I say will cause the DEA to knock on my door and destroy my empire built on drug money from the meth labs in my kitchen, or worry that the neighbors dog is secretly a police dog and when I go to check the mail the dog will be able to sniff out the marijuana that's in my pocket. Especially considering I don't smoke marijuana, there isn't any in my pocket, and I'm pretty sure the drug dealers in the neighborhood don't have an ex police dog. To be honest, a dog has never approached me since I've been living here. As you can see, there is no reason for any of those things to be in my head, let alone be something thats causing anxiety.