Anything I say, do, or think is picked apart by the pathetic vultures who patroll my life. Yesterday I was taking about addiction and I had to fall all over my words to make sure it is understood that I believe in compassion for all people, including addicts who have made mistakes. Because I accidentally said I was glad that at least I don’t struggle with addiction. Which could be deliberately misinterpreted and repeated by the exploitation committee intent on destroying me.
Everything I say is perverted by petty people who love to hate and hate to love. What do you do when you can’t even speak in the privacy of your own home.
My parents always believed what other people told them about me, never moving on their own. So we never talked. You’re one step ahead of me because, at least, there is conversation. So you just have to practice saying, “That’s not true.”.
People are reading my thoughts in real time and responding with the most basest of instincts: derision. I’m the Martha Dumptruck of the cackling hyenas. The thirst for gossip and name calling is apparently bottomless.