Lucky one

I did not want to be the one who spoke up publicly about Marc Maron's harmful behavior. During the last few weeks before this past April 26, I increased the personalization of my writing, in hopes something might finally convince Mr. Maron to face and stop his re-exploitation of girls from my group, those children harmed by sexual exploitation and objectification.  (The latest girl in crisis, and her access to a gun, ended my attempts to reach Mr. Maron himself.)  I am going to post 3 of these last emails.  I am posting these because I really let myself re-feel how deeply it hurts to be silenced, as a child.  Each sexually exploited child is silenced in different ways, but whatever the method, such silencing works.  The next time anyone reading this might be tempted to view a sexualized child as being the one who is responsible for their sexualized behavior, I hope these emails may give that person a better idea of just how malformed the neural pathways in such a child have been shaped, and not because the child ever wanted to think that way.  

Please be warned, the following is harsh, and will be triggering.  

______________

"Cosplay

Mar 17, 2023, 7:10 AM

So, ready to explore another imagined scenario? Why do I hear your voice saying, "Cunt, shut the fuck up, you raging bitch, and leave me alone!"  Close to the truth? Prolly.

So, what I am gettin ready to do, is not technically cosplay. Oh well, sue me for poor choice in subject lines. I am gonna set up a scene, gently lower 5 yr old you into it, and see where it goes.

All following imaginings have zero connection to any single person in your life or family. Please do not think I am inferring anything regarding any of them. This is just me, trying to explain something in a way you might be able to really feel.

Buckle up? Or not. Makes me no nevermind. (Put a pin in this last sentence. It will come up later.)

I have heard you talk of dogs you experienced as a child. I have not heard you discuss any cats you interacted with early in life. So, please take how you feel about your cats now, spread that deck-of-cards-worth of emotionally ranged feelings cats can evoke in their adult coexistors, and pick out the cards representing how children tend to feel about their pets. Throw the other cards off to the side, and lay out the ones you picked, tarot-reading style. Focus on these feelings children experience for their beloved animals. 

Imagine a day when you were around five. Imagine the house where you lived. See the way your bedroom ceiling looked at night, what shadows you saw before drifting off. Imagine going outside, looking down in the grass or dirt, and seeing a toy you once played with, how it looked whenever you found it laying beside a tree trunk or under a rosebush. A cap-gun or a tonka truck, a magnetic gyro wheel, or maybe a wooden beagle on a leash, legs moving independently as you pulled it along. You back there?

Turn around and see Buster, as a kitten, approaching little you. He responds to little you differently. He comes up and rubs his tickly whiskers and cheek fur against your kneecap, as you look around your yard. You reach down and wrap your arms around his belly, picking him up in that way cats only tolerate from human children. His face and concurrently his hind end dangle degradingly, on either side of his hoisted and squeezed arm-encircled belly, bouncing along as little you heads toward the faucet on the side of the house. You set Buster down, he flops it, while you struggle to turn the awkward handle. A trickle comes out of the spout. You curl your hands into a cup, barely noticing the smeared dirt and kid sweat and cat hair in the creases of your palms. The water is cold. Tastes like pennies. You get more, and offer it to Buster. He sniffs it, then goes back to licking his paw. You stand up, forget to turn off the handle, and walk around the house. Buster gets up in time to dash through the open screen door past your legs, as you head inside. You sit on the couch as the sun goes down. You hear Buster crunching cat chow. Gilligan's Island comes on. Things get fuzzy. You must've slept a little, because you realize someone is standing over you and you didn't see her walk through the door and up to you. A woman you know. She comes over when your father is home and your mom isn't. She looks mad. She has brown eyes that turn black when she is mad. You scramble back and up, until you are sitting as close to the arm of the couch as you can get. The woman sits next to you. She never moves her angry eyes away from your face. You are in trouble. What did you do wrong? Think. If you can think of it fast enough, maybe her eyes will go back brown. What did you do? What did you do?  

Your father walks over. You finally make your eyes stop looking at the woman's angry eyes. You see your father is carrying Buster. Your face and stomach go really cold. What did you let Buster do? Your kitten has scared eyes. The woman is talking. You can't stop looking at Buster's eyes. The woman says you told your mom about this woman coming over. Did you? When did you do that? Why did you do that? You shouldn't have done that.

Your father squats down in front of you. Puts Buster in your lap, holding Buster's paws tightly between his whitening fingers of his hands, that have curled up, almost into fists. Buster starts to make yowly noises. You reach out to try and grab him out of the big hands. The woman flashes her hands over yours, forces your hands down onto Buster's fur. His neck. You feel hard lumps and string-type things under his skin. The string things feel like they are getting tighter. Buster tries to lift his head up. He is reaching. He wants away. His eyes are scared. Your chest is burning. You try to pull your hands out from under the woman's hands. You have to hit her. You have to help Buster. Your hands are gone. You still see them. Under the woman's hands, her knuckles going white, around Buster's neck. You see them, your hands. But they must have fell off. You can't feel them. You can't feel them. Why can't you feel them? Move them. Buster. Move your hands. Hit the woman's arms. Help Buster. Help Buster. His eyes are sticking out, are growing bubbles. They are going to pop. Help him. Buster. Make your hands move. Buster. I'm sorry I told my mom. I'm sorry, Buster. I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Buster.

______________

Mar 17, 2023, 8:32 AM

If you think that last email must've been hard for me, you are right. I will be unable to eat anything today. My face is wet, from tears I do not remember crying. In trying to place you into that moment, I was taken back to that moment. The worst fucking moment of my whole fucking life. I just forced the vestiges of my 5-yr-old mind that still reside in my brain, to re-experience that fucking moment. All to make a point. Saddest part, I am doing this for a man who does not give one single shit about me now, the child I was when my Buster-look-alike kitten Barney was killed, or any girl who has, in her own set of fucked up experiences, been sexualized and objectified and silenced and turned into a girl who will always be re-exploited, over and over, by men who choose to act like you.  

So, fuck you for not caring, maron. You think that bothers me? You think I give a shit if you care or not? I have lived a lifetime of being re-exploited by men just like you. I don't give a duck fuck what you think about me, motherfucker.

Remember the sentence in the last email, where I asked you to put a pin in it? Well, unpin that sentence and insert it here:

"Buckle up? Or not. Makes me no nevermind. (Put a pin in this last sentence. It will come up later.)"

That quote is a lie. As is this paragraph I just wrote: "So, fuck you for not caring, maron. You think that bothers me? You think I give a shit if you care or not? I have lived a lifetime of being re-exploited by men just like you. I don't give a duck fuck what you think about me, motherfucker."

Those are lies. Every single goddam time I have brushed off and walked away from, the pain I have been caused by every man (and woman, to a lesser degree), who has re-exploited me, I am surrounding myself in a wall. A big thick, solid as fuck, wall. Most of the time, that wall lets me believe I have always known how bad men are, lets me believe it never surprises me to hear about 13 yr olds being rescued from a locked shed in NC after being abducted by a predator who met that girl online at places and posts just like your very tiktok and instagram, or little children like Samantha Runnion, who are abducted and used and thrown away like so much trash. This fucking wall keeps me from having to feel what lies buried inside and under that wall. You know what that shit under there is, maron? It is the pain I feel, because I understand intimately what that 13-yr-old went through, because I wish I could stop her abductor in a manner that would keep children safe from him forever, because the story of "Mantha Ray Runnion," wrecked me when it happened, and the worst thing I felt was something I could not admit, because it would be so misunderstood: I knew Samantha Runnion was actually lucky. She died. She was spared the hell of "trauma bonding" with some old man when she was 13, or 16, or 18, or 22, or even fifty-fucking-three, an old man who acted like he cared, who knew exactly how much she had been hurt, who she told herself she did not trust, but who, in the secret places in her heart, truly wanted to finally be the man who was not just using her like her abductor was. This man KNOWS what she has been through. He was drawn to her because he knew her deepest pain. There is no way this man would ever just use her body, and later make jokes about how her pain has messed her up. It was her pain that drew him to her. He wouldn't do that just to get off. He has to know how badly it would hurt me to find out he was just misusing me. If I do everything right for him, he will not leave me. He will care for me so much, we can both learn about love. He knows my pain. He won't hurt me. We will help each other. He won't use me in jokes. He knows my pain. Only a bad man would hurt me again. He is decent. This man will be the time I do not end up being hurt. This man will make all my abduction/rape disappear. He will be a man that will never hurt me. My pain will finally go away.

In every one of my emails, describing how I watched other broken girls suffering because of being re-exploited, I made it sound like I was never one of those gullible girls. Even the mf'ers using me for decades never knew that inside my walls, way in a dark corner, was a tiny belief that maybe this person will care enough not to further destroy me. Every time I was re-exploited, the wall got thicker. It was only at that SAA meeting in my 40's, where that truth-speaking woman slammed me with truth, did I finally begin to understand any of this shit. In my teens and 20's and 30's, I said whatever the fuck I knew men wanted me to say, expected me to say. Did what the fuck they wanted. I said I was mature, grown up, grinned about my sluttiness with them, degraded myself. Why? Why did I do this?

Because since that moment my mind started scrambling desperately to find the right combination of words and promises that would make pam and my father happy, would let my Barney stop struggling and not be killed, let the bad stuff stop because I had finally discovered what it was I was supposed to say and do to keep my father and pam happy, so that they would not hurt my kitten. Not hurt me. Since that very fucking moment, I have still been scrambling to get the right combination of words together, to say the right thing, to try and stop the pain people choose to cause others. I am still, behind that wall inside, a child who believes I am the one that made Barney have to die, and it was my failure to say the right words, that made my father and pam keep choosing to fuck children, take pictures of children, make a child's pet die.

I really want you to be a human who simply didn't understand the damage you were doing. See, and if that is true, then maybe I can find the right combination of words to help you decide to no longer re-exploit exploited girls. Fucked up, huh? So, the facade of me, outside my miles-thick wall, says, "makes me no nevermind," "I don't give a duck fuck," and every other way I try to deny me feeling any pain, I am desperately trying to deny that behind the wall in my mind, a little girl is forever frozen in a moment, desperately trying to say the right words, so her Barney won't die.

If you can smile and keep re-exploiting girls after that, then you fucking deserve whatever comes your way. Me, outside the wall, I will not care. But inside of me, to that little girl, you are yet another human who will not stop causing pain to happen in this world. You would help pam and her father finish Barney off.

And I am done for now. Heading out. If this isn't edited correctly, fuck you.

(Yep, some more of that denial of the fact that it does hurt, somewhere in me, that you do not give a fuck for me, or any other broken girl. Make you feel powerful and badass to be breaking broken children over and over? Make you feel good to have me admit the pain you have caused me? Fuck you.)

________________

Mar 18, 2023, 6:31 AM

Did you look up Samantha Runnion? Do me a huge solid, okay old man? If that story will cause a blood rush and tugs and twitches, do not, do not do that to the memory of that precious child. Let her rest in predatory-free peace. Let her be. She is at the rainbow bridge, with the cat she loved, who can be found next to her in a photo online. The childfucker who destroyed her, used her love of animals to convince her to leave the safety of her yard. He asked for her help to find a lost dog. When parents try to protect their kids from predators, they often used to say things like "Don't take candy from strangers." Candy is something children take notice of. It grabs their attention. But animals, damn... A child who hears of a lost dog or cat, they will immediately feel like they have to help. Their mind will believe that if they don't help, the animal won't be found. They will feel that illogical sense of responsibility that children feel when parents divorce, when siblings die, when something bad happens. They will think they caused the bad thing to happen. Samantha Runnion had to help that man. She had to save that missing dog. It was the only thing her kind heart could do. Such pure intention, such unselfish willingness to help a missing dog. The fury my heart feels for the piece of shit who destroyed her is insanely strong, and is uncontrollable for me. If you were reading about her abduction and assault and murder for the first time, and I was anywhere near you during that first reading, if I saw even one little inseam stretch, even one little wrinkle in the crotch of your pants flatten and lift as you read her story, I would try to kill you with my bare hands, right then, and stopping me would require extreme measures.

Does it piss you off that I mention you be turned on by such an awful story? Are you self-righteously angry that I would dare accuse you of such an awful response? Why? If she had lived, and you interviewed her today, you would "trauma bond" with her and get hard hearing her talk about her abduction and assault. You would see her as someone you were free to "help" "resolve" this awful experience. Your voice would have that charged, subtle tone, as you ever so "gently" guided her from re-entering that most awful place in her memory, straight to your bed. The stories of trauma that turn you on, are real moments. The ONLY reason Samantha Runnion is safe from you re-exploiting her, is because she's dead.  

See now how I could actually think of her as lucky? Do you see?! Do you fucking see? Does this email's combination of words finally help you understand what you do, what you have done for 30+ years?"

Starfish

 "Why aren't you saying anything about other celebrities who act like this?"

For those who've never read things written the way I write, let me explain that I am getting ready to answer this question.  I will start this answer by laying a foundational story, so that my answer might be better understood.  If that feels like I am zigzagging or wandering off topic, all I can say is this is how I write.  If you bear with me, I will get there, I promise.

Back in the '90s, I discovered how living in a rural area outside a small community with no animal control or shelter to speak of, meant I would end up feeding quite a number of dumped or feral cats.  As their numbers grew, and the cost of trying to fix them at a regular vet's office was beyond my reach, I stumbled my way into animal rescue/shelter medicine.  Outside of being a parent, this is the single most rewarding and impactful endeavor I will ever have been part of, and I am grateful for those first strays who started me on this path.  I have learned many things over my years of bottle-feeding and fostering tiny kittens, to transporting countless cats, and quite a few dogs, to spay/neuter clinics, as well as learning to assist in the clinics themselves.   I think the biggest lesson I learned was how to break down a huge problem, into a manageable response.  The number of stray/feral cats in the United States alone, is astronomical.   If that had remained my focus, I never would've bothered trying to do anything.  I learned to focus one cat at a time.  Each cat that got fixed, each person in need of help getting cats around them fixed, made a difference.   Not on a global scale.  But on a scale I could see, because it happened in the communities around me.   Just like that starfish beach story, for every single cat who gets fixed, rescue/shelter workers have made a difference.  Every single altered/vaccinated cat matters.

I have lived a life directly affected by childhood sexual exploitation and re-exploitation.  I have witnessed this type of life being forced on and led by countless others around me.  The blame and re-exploitation that sexually abused children are destined to live is a heartache I have quietly carried alone, because the problem looks too big, too overwhelming to ever do anything about.  I guess I just got to the limit of what I could silently bear to witness.  So, combine that limit with the comedian who made me laugh for the first time in 3 years, and a millennial moment that was more life-changing than the sinner's prayer, and here I am, writing blog posts that make no sense to an awful lot of people, and are making a number of folks pissed.  Long answer, huh?  Quite typical, for me.

There is also one other small piece to this answer, a part of myself I must honor, no matter how stupid or naive or mistaken I may feel this part of me is.  This part of me believes that somewhere in Mr. Maron, there is a piece of him that could be reached, that could decide to stop harming those in my group that he has been choosing to harm.  Why does some part of me believe this?  I have no clue.  

Of course, maybe it's because he is someone who saw the overwhelming problem of stray/feral cats, and he took the time to do right by those cats, one cat at a time.  

AA Old-timers. Self-control.

A slightly redacted email I sent to Mr. Maron last Oct.   This email included me using a young person in Mr. Maron's life whom he has decent familial-type care and concern for, as an example, to try and help Mr. Maron understand what is actually occurring every time he chooses to let himself treat other young girls in a manner he would be furious about, if any 50+ yr-old man chose to treat this young person he actually cares about in that same manner.

"Oct 22, 2022, 7:54 AM

I have no way of knowing how capable you are of true empathy for others.  I am hoping my words might give you a better porchview of the damage being done to the young members of my group. 

Old-timers in AA have the experience and knowledge and grasp of the jargon, and understand deeply the various issues that bring people into the program. They can talk about all of it in a way that will make others think they have wisdom, and keeps others from questioning anything about such old-timers' motives or outside-of-meeting behaviors.

When new/young people join AA/NA/ACOA, etc, it can safely be assumed that their life is not idyllic, otherwise they would not be there. In fact, they may legally have to go to such meetings or they can face jail time. The justice system of this country forces a percentage of AA members to be at such meetings.  No matter what the reason, though, it is rare to find any young/new members of the program who were out looking for fun, and instead of going to a party or an amusement park or a boardwalk with peers, decided to go to a meeting. Some bad shit will be happening in the lives of new/young members that will have forced them to be sitting in a chair, surrounded by other folks holding a bad cup of coffee in a chair, listening to others share and trying to find the courage to share. One thing can almost always be guaranteed about all new/young members: they are broken and they need truly decent help and encouragement, because their life is experiencing some very unhealthy twists and turns. Every new/young member is vulnerable, is messed up, is in need of real/actual/honest help, because they are living a slow-motion train wreck that will only get better if they are not derailed by old-timers misusing them and taking advantage of them. These young/new members do NOT need any relationships with grooming old-timers. Sex is never a part of the healing a new/young member needs.  And any other member who finagles/contrives/manipulates/coerces/swindles younger members into such relationships, by expertly twisting program words to make it look like that old-timer can fuck younger members, is the most dangerous predator in the room. God help every sexually exploited young person whose life is so fucked up they find themselves at AA, or are court-ordered to attend such meetings for any reason, and such a predator enters their circle.

Every sexualized and objectified young person alive is literally surrounded by untold numbers of predators, wherever that broken person may be standing on dry ground on this planet at any given moment. And the worst part of all is that broken people like this are broken specifically because they have no one protecting them, advocating for them, treating them in a completely platonic and honorable way, which is the EXACT example and treatment and protection they most need to be experiencing. Unless they experience such treatment, their lives will be a series of Marons, each one taking them further down the cesspool of hell they have been sentenced to since the first adult objectified or sexualized them as children. Unless they have a parent, or a guardian, or a teacher, or a mentor who will NEVER turn their relationship into something sexual, these broken children are banished to an ever-increasing hell.

You have 30 plus years of showing exactly how you view broken young girls. According to you, according to your own words, you are incapable of controlling yourself around such broken girls, you are incapable of setting boundaries with such broken girls, you are incapable of saying "no" to such broken girls.  You say you are unable to keep yourself from fucking such girls. If this is truly the case, you need to be locked up, because you have a very severe problem controlling your own body.  You have been repeating this pattern for over 30 years. But it isn't actually true when you say you "can't say no" to the girls who respond to your grooming.  You choose to groom them, and re-exploit them.  You can say no at any point, to anyone. You say "no" to many people, every day. You will eventually be saying "no" to that very girl you are currently re-exploiting, after you are tired of her, after you are done putting up with the broken behavior that after 30+ years, you know damn well every one of these broken girls is, by definition, going to exhibit. You will have no problem throwing them aside like some piece of trash, right at the moment that the crisis reaches the pinnacle you have set in motion the moment you befriended such a broken girl in the first place. They will be suicidal, and you will threaten to do whatever it is you threaten, to shut them the hell up because you are done using them, and they no longer matter. All of this, every fucking bit of it, is the quintessential definition of predatory behavior.

You truly need to stay away from young, broken females. That is your only decent option. You are a predator who needs to avoid using broken girls the same way you avoid drinking alcohol. The reasons are the only difference. You need to stay away from alcohol for your own sake, to protect yourself. You need to stay away from broken young girls for their sakes, so they can maybe find healing. You will never be a part of such healing. But that requires unselfishness, doesn't it, Maron? Are you capable of that? The actual life, the living-ness, of another human being, a human being who matters as much as you do, as much as your young family members matter, is what's on the line here. You are choosing whether to stop doing something that can quite literally cause the death of another human.

goddammit, Maron, can't you make the decent choice?"

What's wrong with me?

I was asked, "Why are you posting these?"  "What's wrong with you?."  And told, "It's time for you to shut up."

My reason for writing these is still what it was, on April 26.  

What's wrong with me?  Decades of watching those in my group being blamed and re-exploited over and over.  Knowing exactly what predators like my old adventist principal, predators like Marc Maron, are saying to con those younger members of my damaged group.  Witnessing both of these men claim to be helpful decent people who stand against the mistreatment and abuse of women, while leaving the minds of already horribly broken little girls much more damaged when they are done with those girls, and not caring at all.  Marc Maron has publicly been doing this for over 30 years.  He has spoken of these girls from the stage, laughing about how the symptoms for diagnosing BPD, symptoms first shown to Maron by an actual therapist, are symptoms that make for great sex, but the actual damaged human girl suffering behind those symptoms, is simply a "lunatic" Maron feels nothing for when he is done, and she is suicidal, pledging her love and begging him to recontact her in posts.  Harming herself.  Taking a picture of a gun in her possession.  Of course, on the Blocks podcast, he defended his behavior with the only thing he cares about:  it's all legal.

So, Maron's been publicly speaking of this behavior for 3 decades.  I have been speaking out against this behavior for 3 weeks.  I think I am the wrong one to be sent messages saying, "What's wrong with you?"  "It's time for you to shut up."

Teen suicide rates

Here is a recent article regarding the unprecedented rise in teen suicide:

Recent article

As girls continue to be sexualized and then blamed, while simultaneously being told that men like Marc Maron are safe, and are allies of females, this rate will continue to rise.  Girls will never be safe if we keep allowing predators/flashers free access to them with no consequences.  

Ally?

As I watch what ongoing behavior continues to occur, I may add a new post now and then.  Like this one, today.

Mr. Maron continues to post from his recent special, to his groomed audience on tiktok.  His last couple of posts are about abortion, an issue Mr. Maron uses to portray himself as an ally for women.  If one listens, and observes his behavior and words over time, those words and behavior tell a different story.

In referring to abortion, he has many times said it is a man's issue, because any man with "game" will have had to convince a girl at least once or twice to get one.  My teen children were provided with information and condoms, in order to learn responsibility.  "Game" had nothing to do with any of it.  Behaving as responsible adults was the goal I knew my kids needed.  

Mr. Maron makes it clear, in a number of places online, that he never uses any form of "protection."  Yet he continues to fuck girls with mental and emotional issues who are of child-bearing age.  A 59 yr-old man who does not want children, does not have "game," he has a real problem with being a responsible much older grandpa-aged adult.  His obvious responsible choice would be to have a vasectomy.  Much less invasive than anything females go thru during their child-bearing years.  

Lockerroom stories about "game," focusing on and grooming teens with serious issues from being sexualized as children, refusing to take any personal responsibility, all while portraying himself as an ally.  His victim with the gun has no ally in him, or in his followers who refuse to speak up for her.  

A Question

 I was standing in a Walmart, talking to a friend recently.  We were next to the "Baby girl," "Toddler girl," clothing department.  Something spoken of in the new documentary, "Pretty Baby," hit me.  I turned to my friend, pointed at a shelf full of clothing that once would have only been sold in places like Victoria's Secret, for all us adults to enjoy, and asked, "Why isn't this type of clothing mass marketed to little boys?"  Her response was immediate, and the look of disgust on her face was clear.

"Oh my God, that would make adult men see little boys as sexual."

Quite an answer.  The saddest thing to me?  She still doesn't realize what her answer said, what it means she and society view as an acceptable way to let others view cis girl babies and toddlers.

Waiting

 I was asked if I gave up, if that's why I stopped posting.  No. I said what I could say.  I have done what I could, to try and help current and future victims.  This ongoing problem is not something I have any other control over.  So now, I wait.

What do I think will happen?  That’s a two-parter.  First, I hope future potential victims will be protected, on sets, and in audiences, as well as elsewhere.  I have already been told that some people would not be upset to be subjected to the crime of indecent exposure.  I have actively using friends, who are not upset when someone comes over to them and offers to sell them some "blues."  Doesn't make that crime any less of a crime.  Indecent exposure is a crime, and it is harmful.  Parents I know most certainly don't want that crime being committed by people marketed to their children.  Each person signing on to work on a set, has every right to expect this crime will not happen to them on that set.  I hope such future potential victims are protected.  I hope Mr. Maron's sponsor and/or close friends can help encourage him to use the tools he knows well from AA, to bring an end to his behavior that harms and re-exploits others.  Lots of people, myself included, enjoy Mr. Maron's comedy.  I don't want Maron canceled.  I just want this specific harmful and illegal behavior to stop.  

Do I think this is what is going to happen?  Gotta be honest.  No, I don't.  I think Mr. Maron and a great number of his fans will laugh with him at my expense, and laugh at and encourage his harmful and illegal behavior toward other girls from my group.  And the whole point of these posts since April 26 will have been forgotten.  A hurting girl with serious issues has a gun, and was in crisis recently because Mr. Maron knowingly targets and grooms damaged girls with BPD.  To me, there is nothing about that I find humorous.   There's not a porchview in the world that could make me find that humorous. 

Many of Mr. Maron's fans think congress should be doing something about gun crimes.  But in this very situation, they may laugh about the damage this gun could do, simply because the girl it is most likely to harm is from a group that can be used, laughed at, looked down on, and thrown away.

Poster child

Someone asked me if I'm not doing a disservice to others who have experienced child sexual exploitation, and re-exploitation, by referring to myself as a "dumb slut."  I can clear that up, for those who might be thinking the same thing. Anything I say or do that is legit, like having a story published, or speaking up about a wrong I have witnessed, is often followed by somebody pointing out my past mistakes, which has tended to discredit whatever good thing I may have said or done.  My way of combating that is to be honest from the get go.  My history is full of behavior that others know about.  When my name comes up, those behaviors are often mentioned at some point, and anything decent I was saying or doing somehow gets erased when that happens.  This is what I meant, in earlier blog posts making it clear I am not someone like Colin Kaepernick. I'm not the face people want as a representative for any cause.  I am nobody's idea of a poster child.  My knowledge and education has been limited, and I have had many hook ups, which up until a few years ago, were often with people in committed relationships.  These are the two biggest things I have heard others use to discredit me over the years.  If I don't get those things out there up front, someone's damn sure gonna bring them up later.  So, I choose to make those aspects of my life clear, and I do it in the manner I have chosen.  I would rather be honest early, than have any past mistakes used to discredit something important I am trying to accomplish now.  

I am thankful to have been given a chance to answer this myself, instead of people deciding on their own why I am doing something.   

Some help

I know a lot about being misdefined by others.  I am happy to clear up some recent misdefinitions.  Here is a snip of one recent comment about my words:

"...just a fan who’s parasocial fantasy is going unfulfilled. It’s creepy.Don't go to Instagram. It's a mentally ill person rambling incoherently about child sexual abuse. They occasionally reference Marc, but it's clearly unhinged."

When writing, some things lend themselves to certain points of view.  I have an earlier post from years ago, where an assignment led me to write from 3 different view points.  No matter the point of view, all of the writing is from me.  I cannot know anyone else's point of view, I can only know what is occurring in front of me.  

I wrote my first email, after my millennial moment, entitled "Well, hell," because Mr. Maron has mentioned others contacting him regarding subjects that concerned them.  In that email, I explained why his referring to girls with BPD as lunatics who were fun to have sex with but otherwise crazy, was actually hurtful to girls with "daddy issues."  I know Maron does not tolerate fools well, but with a subject regarding mental illness, I did expect this to rate somewhere near his concern for not harming people by using the R word, or telling homophobic jokes, which was behavior he had decided to change when those harmed by such words reached out to him.

Once I realized this was not a subject he felt warranted any concern, my feelings came out on paper, as my feelings do.  I'm a writer. My style of writing can be defined as anyone wishes, but it simply is what it is.  I once wrote a poem about a heron flying over.  I described it in the manner I write.  If that manner appears to be parasocial or insane or "all over the place" to others, I guess I am not the writer for such people.

Do I know Mr. Maron?  No.  I do know his predatory behavior.  Well.  As do his victims.  Guitar players know his talent on a guitar.  Comedians know the work that goes into his profession. 

How I wrote about Mr. Maron's predatory behavior is my writing style.  If others choose to ascribe their own emotions onto my words, all I can do is remind them of the whole reason I made these public, which I have made clear a number of times here.   One of his current victims has suicidal ideation, and a gun.  That is why all of this, since April 26, has been posted here.  No other reason.

"I know from experience it's better stay away from such a disturbed person. Don't expose your brain to the toxicity."

"Hopefully he will block the person and the texts will go away."

"Agreed to hoping the person gets help. Zig zagging storylines all over the place."

You know what would help?  Stopping the behavior that causes harm, ending the hell that has created the writer I am.