Monday, April 30, 2007

How Poisen Pen Letters Can Ruin Your Life

I don't when it started - probably in 1994, when I first started using the Internet - but I am the master of the Poison Pen letter. No, really - I can write the meanest fucking shit you've ever read - and if you're reading one, it's probably directed at you and it's DESIGNED to hurt.

You've never imagined I ever thought any such things about you - but when the bile comes for you, it flows to the page. I have no idea if I can even blame my illness - it's certainly a contributing factor - but when I feel cornered by you, I just might want to DESTROY YOU.

It sucks. It's getting worse - insofar as now, I KNOW I have to stop doing it. A friend called me out about it about a month ago, and I pledged to try my hardest to stop. I just recognized he was right when he said, "Your life would be so much better if you just stopped doing this." Saying mean and hurtful shit only works for about five minutes - then, (generally) I'm hiding from my inbox from whatever blowback might fly in from what I've said.

Ay-yi-yi: I did one last week. A friend and I had an argument that felt like "This is it. I hate you and we're never going to talk again, I hate you so much. I'm going to drop kick you as hard as I can." Vicious terrible things, I said. And of course, because this person was *my friend*, he was terribly terribly hurt.

So not worth it. I thought I could control myself - I have to work harder. When you write one and when you send it - it's better than sex. Or maybe it's just another escapist lie from a very sensitive and wounded person that I most certainly am most of the time.


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