Finding Melissa is no longer a secret. With my identity revealed on the About page, it was never a very good one; but the level of ownership that I’ve taken has gradually increased. I have, in the main, been okay with this, after all, it’s been my decision; but, recently, I’ve been wondering if I’m really as okay with it as I think. I have caught myself, on several occasions, catastrophising that if my site is “found” or my “real-life” identity connected, the consequences will automatically be bad.
Really bad.
No one will want to share a flat with me. I’ll spoil my professional reputation. I’ll become a source of gossip. There will be whispering and pointing and people will give me a wide berth on the street.
That kind of thing.
I nearly associated my response with stigma, then I realised that it is more akin to shame. I don’t necessarily need anyone else to point their finger or assign me with a name; I am already doing that myself.
I am already doing that myself – and yet the things that I am most ashamed of have also informed my greatest achievement: they come together hand in hand. The same experiences that nearly destroyed me have also made me who I am –
And in the act of exposing the illness, I have also exposed myself.
It is this bit that I am struggling with at the moment. It has got me in a bit of a stranglehold. I do not regret what I have written, nor feel the need to resurrect the wall between Melissa and Finding Melissa – I’m just a little afraid of what people might think.
I am also a little confused: “They don’t need to find out” makes everything a secret again; “Just don’t tell anyone” reaffirms the shame. And round we go again.
There is probably not an easy answer, nor one that applies to every situation I find myself in, or every person that I meet. I don’t know whether googling potential flatmates is common practice and my fears are grounded; or whether, actually, the judgments mostly belong to me. I have no idea whether careers fall on personal revelations, or whether there is a sign hovering over my head that will alert people to my messy past. I suspect not, and I have no evidence to support the former –
Just a little voice, echoing a few prickly memories from when I first became ill, that is proving hard to evict.
Tags: mental health blogging, perception, Stigma
Hi Melissa, shame is very difficult to deal with. It really does involve, usually, finding that people don’t judge us as harshly as ourselves. If you can gradually talk about things with those you are pretty sure you can trust then you can do it a little at a time.
In my experience, and the experience of others I’ve talked to about this, others are far less ashamed of our behaviour than we are ouselves.
Argh, the cyberspace face, online personality, image projection conundrum type of thing. This has been on my mind lately as well (http://anorexiaoni.blogspot.com/2010/08/why-do-i-blog-about-this-crap-setting.html)
I can’t imagine the kind of difficulty in working things out between a more anonymous identity and ‘real’ identity and I’ve always blogged and just done stuff on the internet under my own name. I think when I’m permanently embarrassed I figure I’ve got nothing to lose!
Anyway, in seriousness Evan is so right about the way our behaviour and image is more of a big deal to ourselves than others. People are judgmental and there is stigma to illness but if we live in fear of what other people think we’re never going to do anything and will just end up hiding away until our self-esteem is zero and until panic and angst about things that might not be have totally ravaged us.
The internet is a minefield of identity confusion and mystery, but it’s also a great space where (just like the ‘real world’) you can give out tremendous positivity and it’s sad to think that we might stigmatise ourselves and shut ourselves down out of fear.
Just like everyday doubts of worrying what people think, the internet is the exactly the same. It is prickly, but ultimately it doesn’t matter what people think – it’s what you think and how you feel that is the most important thing.
James – I read your post before and you’re spot on. My eating disorder was all about secrecy feeling like multiple people, and I have now developed a complete adversion to this. I also suffer a little from the feeling bad for demanding attention thing…
I guess that it’s good to re-visit this issue every now and then to check out why I keep writing, but I think you’re right: I need to focus on not stigmatising myself and remaining true to what I believe. I don’t want to have to hide or skip over my past, but nor do I need to let it define me – I guess I’m still looking for that middle ground.
xx