One And A Half Million Words
In four years I have written nearly a million and a half words on
Dustpan Alley. In that time I have gone from being a fairly hopeful
person to becoming excessively caustic and bitter. I started with a
business in a new state, (or rather a new town in a state I loved living
in as a kid), thinking I was building a fresh start for myself and my
family. It felt like an adventure and I knew in my bones that
everything would work out, that the previous year of bad luck we'd had
would change, that we'd build ourselves a shiny new life.
The blog became my chronicle and often my lifeline as I developed friendships here that I wasn't developing in my new town. It was my happy place. When I look at the early posts I can feel the optimism informing even the anxious and the depressed posts. My pictures were terrible and my narrative was sketchy. The progression of change and growth is very clear in the chronological archives.
I was wrong, of course. Very little has worked out. My life is still mid train-wreck. Our closest friends, with whom we shared much of this strange Oregon adventure, are going home to California and it feels like a chapter closing. It's becoming more and more probable that we'll have to leave the house we're living in to rent something much cheaper. Which means giving up my garden, my roses, my fruit trees, and my chickens. It's looking like we may never own a home again. It's unclear what our next move is or how our life will unfold from here on out.
I have, for four years, and with one and a half million words, put myself out there with all my mess, my imperfections, and my contradictions for others to see. For others to scrutinize if they wish. For others to share in. Some of that has been empowering. But so many times I've cut myself open and pushed raw muscle onto the page and the silences that echo back are louder than the support and happy noise of friends. It's the silence that has begun to eat away at me.
The silences have become a fresh form of self destruction. I find myself wondering if any of my friends and family would notice, would bother to call me if they opened up my blog and saw that I was thinking of cutting my head off to spite a sandwich. It has become the same kind of self torture I engaged in when I was completely invisibly falling apart after my parents' divorce, experiencing a dangerous bout of disassociation, and I felt so alone and I was in such desperate need of help but my parents were so self absorbed that they actually didn't even notice I was depressed. The slash marks across my arms practically bled out on my dinner plate in front of them and they couldn't see anything but themselves.
I 'm a really angry person. I've been angry since I was a kid but this is the first time in my life I've become openly and hostilely angry. Kung Fu has brought to the surface what no amount of writing alone could do. It has forced me to feel the anger in my own body and admit the deep disappointments I feel in others. It's always been a cinch to feel disappointment in myself, but until recently you could have pulled all my teeth out and I would have worked really hard not to admit to feeling it for others. Working out my anger, frustration, and disappointments on my blog is not only unhealthy for me, it's dangerous.
Writing this blog has made a lot of good things happen as well and I would like, in closing this chapter of my life, to acknowledge that through writing here I have met so many caring impossibly supportive people that filled some of the hurtful silences, I got one of my designs published in a book, and without Dustpan Alley I would never have gotten my job. It was through writing this blog that I eventually unlocked the door to the most pure form of telling the truth:
I've made it easy for people to get just enough of me, to snatch whatever it is they want from me, without having to commit themselves to any kind of real entanglement or inconvenience. Such is the toxic nature of Facebook and all social media for me. To have 130 people get to casually call themselves your "friends" and invite them to take whatever little snippets from you that are convenient without having to give anything in return is a queer form of prostitution of the spirit.
It's time for a complete retreat from the world. It's time to stop giving myself away to everyone. I've known I needed to do this for a long time but I didn't have the guts. Facebook is like heroine to me. When I turn it off I get itchy to read the chatter and hear the social noise and so I say "Just a little more. Just this once!" I use it to fill the empty spaces in my life. It hurts me but I find it irresistible. I have been open, available, present, and loud for four years on this blog and now I need to take it back. I need to shut the access off.
I don't own, nor will I ever own, a cell phone because I don't wish to be available to people all the time. Having an online social life turned into the same thing as having a cell phone. I see everyone out there in the world twitching constantly with their cellphones, checking their messages obsessively, and texting people who aren't with them at the cost of those who are. This is not a world I want to be part of. Yet here I am in my own house with the people I love the most and I can't stop checking for messages from people on Facebook and my blog who aren't here which is robbing my kid and my husband of my full and genuine attention.
I am withdrawing myself from online life. I've made real friendships here and I can't promise to keep up with emails or letters and god knows I won't call anyone, but for those wonderful real friendships I've made: let's find each other in real life. Let's have actual tea together and let me cook for you. When I come your way I just might reach out and demand some good old fashioned hang out time with cell phones off and no computers. There's a little train trip I've been meaning to make to Eugene and I think I might find a way to squeeze that in this summer. Just know that I don't forget the people who have been good to me. I never forget kindness and I am adamantly loyal.
In the meantime I plan to work hard at not getting fired from my paying job, putting all of my best writing energy into writing Cricket and Grey which I hope will get published and someday find it's way into your hands, and to spend quality time with my astonishing kid.
Lastly, and I think most importantly, I intend to master my punches and my 360 kicks. I intend to find what I need in myself which is as it should be and I know that part of what I need is to train hard to bring my body back to a recognizable shape and dependability, and I believe that Kung Fu is a major part of that road back to myself. I want, and I intend to develop, the fluid grace of the black belts in my Kung Fu school. When they perform the most violent actions their energy is calm, focused, and strangely beautiful.
I hope that the next time we meet I'll have so much more to give you than I have today.
The blog became my chronicle and often my lifeline as I developed friendships here that I wasn't developing in my new town. It was my happy place. When I look at the early posts I can feel the optimism informing even the anxious and the depressed posts. My pictures were terrible and my narrative was sketchy. The progression of change and growth is very clear in the chronological archives.
I was wrong, of course. Very little has worked out. My life is still mid train-wreck. Our closest friends, with whom we shared much of this strange Oregon adventure, are going home to California and it feels like a chapter closing. It's becoming more and more probable that we'll have to leave the house we're living in to rent something much cheaper. Which means giving up my garden, my roses, my fruit trees, and my chickens. It's looking like we may never own a home again. It's unclear what our next move is or how our life will unfold from here on out.
What IS clear that we have
not hit the bottom of hell yet.
I have, for four years, and with one and a half million words, put myself out there with all my mess, my imperfections, and my contradictions for others to see. For others to scrutinize if they wish. For others to share in. Some of that has been empowering. But so many times I've cut myself open and pushed raw muscle onto the page and the silences that echo back are louder than the support and happy noise of friends. It's the silence that has begun to eat away at me.
The silences have become a fresh form of self destruction. I find myself wondering if any of my friends and family would notice, would bother to call me if they opened up my blog and saw that I was thinking of cutting my head off to spite a sandwich. It has become the same kind of self torture I engaged in when I was completely invisibly falling apart after my parents' divorce, experiencing a dangerous bout of disassociation, and I felt so alone and I was in such desperate need of help but my parents were so self absorbed that they actually didn't even notice I was depressed. The slash marks across my arms practically bled out on my dinner plate in front of them and they couldn't see anything but themselves.
My
blog has become my razor blade.
I 'm a really angry person. I've been angry since I was a kid but this is the first time in my life I've become openly and hostilely angry. Kung Fu has brought to the surface what no amount of writing alone could do. It has forced me to feel the anger in my own body and admit the deep disappointments I feel in others. It's always been a cinch to feel disappointment in myself, but until recently you could have pulled all my teeth out and I would have worked really hard not to admit to feeling it for others. Working out my anger, frustration, and disappointments on my blog is not only unhealthy for me, it's dangerous.
Writing this blog has made a lot of good things happen as well and I would like, in closing this chapter of my life, to acknowledge that through writing here I have met so many caring impossibly supportive people that filled some of the hurtful silences, I got one of my designs published in a book, and without Dustpan Alley I would never have gotten my job. It was through writing this blog that I eventually unlocked the door to the most pure form of telling the truth:
Truth through fiction.
I've made it easy for people to get just enough of me, to snatch whatever it is they want from me, without having to commit themselves to any kind of real entanglement or inconvenience. Such is the toxic nature of Facebook and all social media for me. To have 130 people get to casually call themselves your "friends" and invite them to take whatever little snippets from you that are convenient without having to give anything in return is a queer form of prostitution of the spirit.
It's time for a complete retreat from the world. It's time to stop giving myself away to everyone. I've known I needed to do this for a long time but I didn't have the guts. Facebook is like heroine to me. When I turn it off I get itchy to read the chatter and hear the social noise and so I say "Just a little more. Just this once!" I use it to fill the empty spaces in my life. It hurts me but I find it irresistible. I have been open, available, present, and loud for four years on this blog and now I need to take it back. I need to shut the access off.
I don't own, nor will I ever own, a cell phone because I don't wish to be available to people all the time. Having an online social life turned into the same thing as having a cell phone. I see everyone out there in the world twitching constantly with their cellphones, checking their messages obsessively, and texting people who aren't with them at the cost of those who are. This is not a world I want to be part of. Yet here I am in my own house with the people I love the most and I can't stop checking for messages from people on Facebook and my blog who aren't here which is robbing my kid and my husband of my full and genuine attention.
I am withdrawing myself from online life. I've made real friendships here and I can't promise to keep up with emails or letters and god knows I won't call anyone, but for those wonderful real friendships I've made: let's find each other in real life. Let's have actual tea together and let me cook for you. When I come your way I just might reach out and demand some good old fashioned hang out time with cell phones off and no computers. There's a little train trip I've been meaning to make to Eugene and I think I might find a way to squeeze that in this summer. Just know that I don't forget the people who have been good to me. I never forget kindness and I am adamantly loyal.
In the meantime I plan to work hard at not getting fired from my paying job, putting all of my best writing energy into writing Cricket and Grey which I hope will get published and someday find it's way into your hands, and to spend quality time with my astonishing kid.
Lastly, and I think most importantly, I intend to master my punches and my 360 kicks. I intend to find what I need in myself which is as it should be and I know that part of what I need is to train hard to bring my body back to a recognizable shape and dependability, and I believe that Kung Fu is a major part of that road back to myself. I want, and I intend to develop, the fluid grace of the black belts in my Kung Fu school. When they perform the most violent actions their energy is calm, focused, and strangely beautiful.
I hope that the next time we meet I'll have so much more to give you than I have today.
One and a half
million words and no regrets.
Comments (19)
So sorry but I understand. I hope that you can find what you need to center yourself in this world we live in. Keep in touch if you want.
Robin
Posted by Robin | June 12, 2010 2:12 PM
Posted on June 12, 2010 14:12
I wish I was close enough to have tea and let you cook for me sometime. I will miss you and your fantastic words and turn of phrase, your acidity.
I hope that things work out better for you. Sending all my good thoughts to you and your cool man and kid.
Ann
Posted by Ann | June 12, 2010 2:40 PM
Posted on June 12, 2010 14:40
I understand your need to withdraw from social media (I've gone through this myself in the last year) and even to stop writing here for awhile. But please, please don't delete Dustpan Alley and all your archives. I come visit your words daily...you've written so many things that inform my life and get me thinking. We've had, (what have been to me anyway) many interesting conversations. You get me thinking about deep things the way no one else I correspond with does. I would hate to lose that part of my life. I'm sorry if it is entangled in your life and you want to cut yourself free of it...but couldn't you just walk away for awhile and let it rest without destroying it all?
Here is something related which explains the addictive and somewhat mentally destructive nature of social media. I've been feeling this way for awhile myself and have cut off most of my online interactions. (Never could bear to begin Facebook, thankfully.)
[Wouldn't let me put the link in my post so I put it in my name link.]
I love your insights and I will miss reading new ones. But I will miss almost as much losing the ability to reread old ones.
Posted by mss @ Words Into Bytes | June 12, 2010 3:22 PM
Posted on June 12, 2010 15:22
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I mean, I understand but NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! I realize you weren't blogging for my sake, and it is incredibly selfish of me to want you to continue when you need to retreat and take care of yourself and your family. I will miss your wit and way with words and the connection that I feel with you. I really hope you come to Eugene. I really hope I have my shit together soon, so perhaps I could get my lame ass up there and let you cook for me. Dang it, I feel a bit weepy.
Posted by Tonia | June 12, 2010 3:31 PM
Posted on June 12, 2010 15:31
Good luck with everything, Angelina. I'll miss you and your words, but I also understand your need to create a different kind of space for yourself. I'll be thinking of you.
Posted by EmmaC | June 12, 2010 6:13 PM
Posted on June 12, 2010 18:13
Oh, Angelina. I'll miss reading!
Selfishly, I want you to stick around. That's for me, though, and if it's not the best for you, it's not. I totally understand. You know yourself, and you know what's toxic for yourself.
Here are some BIG hugs, 'cuz I'm the hugging type.
Posted by Aimee | June 12, 2010 8:51 PM
Posted on June 12, 2010 20:51
Thanks everyone! I'd love it if any of you could pay me a visit and let me cook for you!
MSS- I love debating with you too over ideas and culture and that's certainly been one of my favorite parts of having this blog. If I had any self control and could walk away and never post here again, or at least for months at a time, then leaving the archives up would be a reasonable option. However, I don't have that control. My need to write, to post, to tell absolutely everything on my mind, feels a lot like turrets. Maybe I don't shout out the word "vagina!" in restaurants, but I have a compulsion to share and to share all day long and the more inappropriate a subject might be the more I feel an irresistible pull to put it out there. Not in a devilish "I'm going to stir some shit up!" kind of way but in a more insidious uncomfortable way that reminds me that even those of us who have mild OCD (though it has increased in severity over the years) can experience compulsion in the most unforseen ways once we're given the proper stimulus and lab conditions to prime ourselves up.
I would like to take the whole blog down because I am feeling very raw about it. To be honest I didn't think anyone cared about the archives themselves anyway. I know when I find a new blog I sometimes get really excited and read through large sections of archives, but once I've come to know a blog well I don't tend to go backwards.
It is possible that if I could render this blog a read only, and make it somehow impossible for me to post anything new on it, I might be able to leave them up. But I'm uncomfortable right now with the whole thing. It feels like I've compiled the most amazing weapon that may easily be turned against me by anyone who cares to.
I would never destroy the whole thing without making good thorough hard copies and I've heard blurb produces great quality. I really like the idea of being able to take the blog down, out of the main stream of the universe and put it, instead, on my bookshelves where I might look over them when I'm feeling safe and want to reread those posts that sparked lively and fun conversations and brought to me friends like you.
So, I'll ask my friend Angela if it's possible to make it so that I can't actually post on it, even if I wanted to. And I'd have to turn the comments off so I could turn away and not have to manage spam or have anything to do with it for a while.
The other possibility is to send anyone, like yourself, a read only copy of it on a disc that you could upload and look at whenever you liked, but remove the copy from online.
I am just feeling like this chapter needs to close and eventually I will resurface, but hopefully with a little less anger and hopelessness. I want the ability to reinvent myself. It's hard to do that when there is a giant body of work that anyone may access at any time which chronicles the four worst years of my adult life.
Posted by Angelina | June 12, 2010 8:53 PM
Posted on June 12, 2010 20:53
I will most certainly miss reading your voice. Over the year or so that I have been reading your space has been the one that has challenged and inspired me the most.
May your future give you the food you need to feed your soul.
Kind Regards
Belinda
Posted by simply.belinda | June 12, 2010 10:46 PM
Posted on June 12, 2010 22:46
I just sent you an email before I read this post. Hope you read it.
....when can I come to McMinnville?
Posted by Kathy | June 13, 2010 12:02 AM
Posted on June 13, 2010 00:02
I'm sorry it has come to this, but I understand.
If you are ever in the Atlanta, Ga area please pay me a visit - I'd be honored to offer you tea. And I mean that in a non-creepy stalker way that I know you understand.
H
Posted by Helen | June 13, 2010 5:08 AM
Posted on June 13, 2010 05:08
I appreciate you responding to me although, of course, you do not need to justify your decisions to anyone.
I admit to extreme selfishness on my part, a feeling of betrayal and loss because this is the only venue our relationship exists and because I have invested a lot of myself in your life--in the troubles with the store, your move, the bankruptcy, and most importantly your health and Max. Which makes it sound all negative...but there are equally your wonderful posts on chickens, walking with dogs, gardening, preserving food, design, and experiencing the world so vividly it hurts.
I give into the temptation of saying that this seems a bit like cutting--a mental excising. I hate it that I'm part of the tumor that needs to be excised.
And yet, I know that I'm the one in the wrong and that you must do what you must do to protect yourself emotionally. You have cut yourself to the bone and bled intense words over these pages for years. As I've often said, I could never be so brave.
Posted by mss @ Words Into Bytes | June 13, 2010 5:40 AM
Posted on June 13, 2010 05:40
I will miss it very much and I will think of you and wonder and hope that things are turning around for you. I hope you will reconsider but all I can really wish for is what's best for you. If you do stop writing here...just know that you have made an impact and will be missed. Take care of yourself and your family.
Posted by Cynthia | June 13, 2010 8:04 AM
Posted on June 13, 2010 08:04
Bugger.
I will miss your thought provoking posts, be kind to yourself and remember all the good bits of DPA too.
Posted by French Knots | June 14, 2010 6:07 AM
Posted on June 14, 2010 06:07
xo
Posted by pam | June 14, 2010 6:31 AM
Posted on June 14, 2010 06:31
I'll miss reading your blog. Good luck, Angelina.
Posted by Maja | June 14, 2010 8:56 AM
Posted on June 14, 2010 08:56
I have been reading your blog for many months, but never commented. I have admired and envied your honesty and self-awareness, and marvelled at your ability to express yourself with words. I will miss your words and thought provoking observations. I wish you and your beautiful family contentment and joy in wherever your journey takes you.
Posted by Stacy | June 14, 2010 10:06 AM
Posted on June 14, 2010 10:06
Thanks everyone!
Posted by angelina | June 14, 2010 6:40 PM
Posted on June 14, 2010 18:40
Totally understand, yet will definitely miss you. Take care of yourself and your family.
Posted by Chez Loulou | June 14, 2010 11:50 PM
Posted on June 14, 2010 23:50
Oh to be close enough to take you up on that offer of tea! Fortunately, I do have your address and an abundance of stationery, so taking pen to paper will be a delight, especially since I know you are on the other end. Xoxo
Posted by Mary | June 15, 2010 10:40 AM
Posted on June 15, 2010 10:40