Some Cathartic Creativity – A Guest Post

By on January 12, 2012.

12th January 2012

She sent me a private message in Twitter asking if I would publish an anonymous guest post that she wanted to write. I asked her to send it and I would take a look. I read it through a few times, my heart racing and the urge to wrap her up in a warm blanket and try to make things better overwhelming me, then I messaged her back with a yes. She is a another blogger and I suspect many of you probably visit her blog regularly but for now these words of hers will live here. She needed to write them to set them free and now she needs them to be read. Maybe one day she will come here and claim them as hers and maybe not, either way it doesn’t matter. She knows and I know and the rest we shall just leave you to wonder……



Where do I begin? I suppose the following could be construed as a cry for help, except I don’t really do cries for help. I just deal with things and move on. As fast as possible. But this particular situation is hanging over me, because I don’t know how to deal with it. And, most likely, without being in my shoes, you won’t either. But there’s always a chance that a few words of wisdom might set me on the right track. Maybe, just maybe, someone reading this will have the edge of an answer, or a piece of advice on how to cope with life’s imperfections. And if not, I need to write this anyway, because the difficulty is too much for me to contain all by myself.
Last night I was followed. And I had a minor panic attack. Though not in that order.
Returning to university was nerve-racking. Last term I got involved with someone. An extremely charming someone. We tip-toed around definitions which makes it harder to write about him. To friends and family, I used the word “friend”. To some others, “lover”. We slept together, we worked together, we talked together, we watched films. It was a relationship of sorts – although endowing it with that name makes my blood run cold.
In any case, it soured. When I met him my heart had just been broken and although I quickly saw how poisonous he was, I held on because… well, the same reason anyone holds on: I didn’t want to be alone. I kept him in my life, but was kept completely out of his.
And yes, it soured. He became irrational, perhaps even dangerous. He was a complete mindfuck. It got to a point where his lies poured forth so fluidly that my entire perception of reality seemed off. I would be talking to good friends, and they would tell me stories, and I couldn’t believe them because I was so used to listening to his lies. I began to doubt everything he had ever told me about himself. I began to doubt his name, his age, his occupation, his family… I even, in the middle of the night, restless, wondered if he actually existed. Was I just overtired? Was I homesick? Was all of the drama just a figment of my imagination?
And still I was concerned for him before I was concerned for me. His messages and calls were so full of depression and sadness that I couldn’t sleep for worrying about him.
Then one night, he was staying in my flat with me, I looked at him, and just couldn’t help any more. My life was falling to pieces. I had insomnia. I had coursework stacking up. No matter how troubled he was, I realised I needed to sort my life out first.
We stood either side of the bed. He wanted to fuck. And I said no. And we climbed into bed and went to sleep.
I woke up two hours later and he was inside me. I felt sadness, deep in the pit of my stomach, but only half awake I didn’t fight him. I remember thinking that I had to be quiet, had to make sure I didn’t wake up my roommate.
It was shortlived. He rolled over and went to sleep, and at some point I gave into exhaustion as well.
Two days later term ended and I went home to my family for Christmas. I didn’t think about that night at all. It seemed so beside the point. One night of awkward sex seemed like small fry when compared with the distractions he had caused to my life elsewhere. I spent Christmas sorting out my sleep deprivation and getting back on top of my school work. The idea that I had been assaulted didn’t even cross my mind until a friend at home asked about my sex life and somehow I ended up describing the situation to her. Her anger and worry and outrage shocked me and I began to think of that night differently. There are a lot of different types of rape, and I realised that I was a victim of one.
But still, even with this realisation, it seemed beside the point. Thinking about it seemed like a step backwards: my sleep was better, my pile of work was getting smaller. I felt fine.
He contacted me several times during the holidays, always with a pile of psychotic bullshit, all of which I ignored. Even in his most depressed, desperate states, I simply didn’t reply. Being at home gave me perspective. I wanted my relatives to know how much I was enjoying studying; I wanted to be a hardworking student and someone for them to be proud of. I did not want to be the naïve daughter who fell prey to a predatory headcase. Of course I talked enough to deal with my emotions, but mostly pretending all was well made me well. It was a ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ kind of thing.
I was fine. I was on track. I was ready to come back to university and do better, work harder, achieve more. Yesterday I had my first lecture. Walking to the campus I could feel my heart rate increasing and by the time I was in the building I had to duck into the bathroom and take a few moments to breathe. My mind was racing, my pulse pounding in my ears, my body shaking. I put my head between my legs and waited until the dizziness subsided and my breathing was normal. Until I couldn’t feel my heart in my throat any more. Still I was determined; he wouldn’t defeat me. How bad could it be, really, seeing him? I walked into the hall where my lecture was being held and immediately spotted him.
I spent the lecture sitting with a group of my friends, and made a point of letting him leave first, so that I could slip away and take a slightly longer route home with my friends, to avoid him. We walked and I spotted him heading off in the direction he and I used to walk together – a pathway that led to my doorway and further to his. I was glad to see him disappear, and my friends and I went off in the other direction. About four hundred yards from my building I parted ways with my friends, confident that I didn’t have anything to worry about.
Two minutes later, he walked right past me. To my knowledge – and I know his comings and goings quite well – he had never walked this way, never suggested there was anything in this direction that was of interest to him. This was the first time I’d walked this way, and the first time I’d ever known him to either. I knew he had followed me. He walked past me fast, and then ahead of me, and I kept my eyes down and crossed the road. As I reached my building, I spotted him across the road, watching me as I ducked into my building.
And here I sit, a day later, the prospect of university looming in a matter of hours, and I can’t help but feel nervous. Scared. He’s done nothing I can take to any authorities – or at least I have no evidence for them to take into account. And, strange as it may sound, my main concern now is that he is a negative and distracting presence in my life. I am at a point in my life where the ability to focus and be productive are extremely important. At the very least I want to be able to shut out thoughts of him, for a while at a time, and be able to take the most I can from my studies.
Alongside this I have another concern. Elsewhere on the internet I have a blog. A sex blog. One I write under a pseudonym and under the cover of night. He knows about it. In fact he knows a lot about my life and could make things very difficult for me. Furthermore his awareness of my dual lives mean that I am unable to write about my emotions and the myriad ideas and thoughts this experience has given me, in my own space. And that is really, on a day to day basis, the hardest thing. I cannot even express what is going on inside my head to my most loyal readers and some of my good friends, because all the time, I can feel the possibility of his presence. That is where I feel violated.
I have had to censor myself in the past for the good of people I love and care for, and was happy to do it. Having to censor myself because I could be in danger is completely different. And utterly horrifying. Anyone who writes, or composes music, or paints, or does anything creative at all, I’m sure, will be able to imagine how difficult it is to stifle your own therapeutic creativity and put on a bright face on every day, just to hide from something that is making you sleepless with fear.
So I’m writing this, in the hope that someone will publish it for me, anonymously. Then, at the very least, knowing this is out there, on the internet, being read, might allow me to move on somewhat, to be able to breathe and take rational steps to deal with this awkward and exhausting situation.


Molly Moore - Author, Blogger, Photographer, Speaker
Find me in my corner of the internet at Molly's Daily Kiss
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  1. Oddly I can understand where you’re coming from to a point. I have a bit of a stalker, a crazy ex, and it truly is rather scary knowing how much of my life she knows and not knowing what she could do with such knowledge. I’m a blogger as well and also have a sex blog. Both of which she is aware of. It’s frustrating, irritating and a cause for concern. So I do have an idea of what you’re going through.

    There are two sides to every story though and I’m cautious to give out advice that could ruin someone else’s life without actually hearing them out.

    That being said if you were in fact raped you should file a police report. The best thing to do if an actual crime was committed is to put something down on paper for the police to refer to if things start to escalate.

    You also need to look back on this and realize that after breakups you’re in an emotionally weakened state especially if it is someone you cared for. Rebounds are sometimes fun but in this case they’re dangerous. I’d also advise keeping things like personal blogs and kinky blogs that can end careers and things like that to yourself until you really get to know the person or get your head on straight. With a guy like the one you described all you’re doing is giving him more fuel for his fire.

    Also if he’s ever commented on your blog, sex blog or anywhere else he would have left behind an IP address. I know for a fact that on WordPress you can view the IP address and then download a myriad of widgets/plugins to block/ban an IP from viewing the site. It is something for you to research so hopefully you can voice your opinions freely without the crazy guy becoming more infatuated with you.

    Again though you need to take a deep look at the situation, I’m not coming down on you, but rape is a serious charge and here in the States it is a life ender for those falsely accused. I will state again that if you were actually raped you need to go to the police station and make your case. You said no and he did it anyway. The police might not be able to make an arrest but having things on paper helps you out in the long run.

    I wish you luck,


  2. Ouch :(. I wish I had some good advice for the writer, but I don’t. Just sending some warmth and hugs her way. Hopefully he will gradually fade away into the dark place he comes from. After all, if he tried to cause trouble for you he must know that it would bounce back on him. Please keep your friends close and take care until he fades – form you mind and your life

  3. Dearest girl, I am so very sorry you are going through this situation, I want to gather you up in my arms and protect you. You are the victim of abuse and need support in whatever form you find you can accept it. I hope you find that here. I would like to give advice but it is such a delicate situation and I dot want things made any worse for you. First of all though, you are not to go anywhere on your own. Even a short distance. Your friends, I’m sure, will help you with this. Do not give this man the opportunity to interact with you, that’s what he wants, he wants to be inside your head. Please protect yourself as best you can and know there are people out here like me, who are thinking of you and supporting you. Xxx

  4. I’m with John and Miss Anonymous. Never go anywhere alone and, whether you decide to involve the police or not, make sure somebody knows *all* the details. Keep a journal of incidents, privately online or otherwise. And do not, under any circumstances, have any more contact with him, electronically or otherwise, if you can possibly avoid it. Protect yourself, sweetheart, but don’t become a hermit.
    My love and support to you, and I wish you safety and peace.

  5. I would recommend that you make your blog private – by invitation only – and that would shut him out. Another option is to shut down your blog and set up a new blog address and privately email your followers where to find your new blog.

  6. I basically agree with the others who’ve commented but with these simple effective refinements:

    Yes, you can’t contact the authorities to lay charges – it would be his word vs yours. You can however still report him and what he did to university security and/or university student services. Describe him in great detail and provide them with a pic of him if you have one. They then can at least be on the lookout for him. Just consider: you may not be the only one that he has been stalking in the past, currently or maybe in the future. Please be brave and do that much.

    Yes, by all means, do NOT travel alone without at least having one (and preferably more) friend(s) with you – at all times, if possible. Better to be safe than sorry when dealing with this villiage idiot.

    Finally, as to your sex blog – I say that it’s far better to close it down and start a new private by- invite-only blog where only those whom you know well may join it. Since he knows the url address of your current blog, you knowing his IP email address isn’t sufficient enough to block him out since at some later date he may try to join posing under another (woman’s) email identity, using a different computer and/or a different net isp provider (and thus have a new IP email address unknown to you). Follow all that techie stuff? 🙂

    Good luck to you and stay aware and alert – but not afraid! Otherwise he has still won over you, Capiche?

  7. It might make sense to switch to another school, for your own peace of mind and a chance for a fresh start, if that’s possible. Rob had some very good suggestions if you must stay where you are. I would also make sure that your cell phone is always charged and by your side for emergencies.

    ~Kazi xxx

  8. This happened to me at one time. I felt oddly embarrassed by the whole thing, and it kept me from telling much to my friends or family at the time.

    I varied my routes and stayed alert. I didn’t go out much, as I recall — the route I was varying was from the transit stop to my home (and for awhile, to a friend’s place at which I was staying). After awhile, he just stopped.

    A friend of mine said, “You can probably blog about everything…but you probably can’t blog about everything right now.” You will be able to write about this, under your own imprimatur, at some time. I wrote about my experience many, many years later, starting with: “When I found myself thinking, “I’m going to get shot to death by a Jewish vegan peace activist from Kentucky for not sleeping with a gay guy,” I knew things had gone too far.”

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