Some of you may have realised that I haven’t been around for a while, either here or on Twitter. If you’re a regular reader of this blog you may remember that back in the summer DH and I were reported to the NSPCC and Children’s Services by a former friend who hadn’t been in touch for over a year but who read this blog. Although we were swiftly cleared of any wrongdoing, the experience has scarred us both deeply. I no longer feel comfortable blogging and tweeting about my mental health, knowing that my words could once again be turned against me. I’ve tried to continue blogging but I just can’t be open any more – I’ve drafted countless posts, and deleted them all because it doesn’t feel safe to publish my thoughts, my distress or my struggles.
It’s the same with Twitter. Knowing that this former friend is probably still watching my account makes it exceedingly hard to see Twitter as the (generally) safe haven that it once was. I can’t be honest and open any more, and that makes it very hard to interact with people who are fully aware of my problems and who are kind enough to care how I am. I tried having a locked account for a while but it didn’t feel right.
Because I no longer have the twin outlets of Twitter and blogging to help and sustain me, in terms of mental wellbeing I have to focus on self-care and looking after DH. This means that although I care about the friends I’ve made online, I don’t have the strength to support them as well as look after my children, husband and of course myself. To those friends I want to say that I’m sorry. I feel hypocritical, for having to abandon you when I’ve been abandoned by so many so-called friends and know how devastating it can be. But my focus has to be on my family and myself right now, because without being able to open up and interact honestly online, my support network has become severely diminished. I wish you all the very best, and hope that you continue to help and support each other. I cannot thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me.
I hope that this isn’t goodbye. I hope that it’s just au revoir, until we see each other again. But for now, although I’m having to type this through the tears, @SamCandour and this blog will lie silent.