To what imaginary third party would I be speaking?; and, why did I ever start blogging in the first place?

I could loudly blab about every detail that Rick has ever confessed to me, every vulnerable and personal thing he has ever said. I could go in front of the whole forum and tell it all to everybody. I'd be so proud to tell the whole world that I finally 'got' Rick somehow, and I'd want to brag about it to increase my social status, because 'getting' Rick is a great thing to do.

Or, I could run away and hide in shame, and say, oh my god, please don't let anyone find out that that Rick guy was talking to me. I don't want anyone to see us together.

So, yeah, telling me any vulnerable details is a really bad idea.

Why did I start blogging in the first place? That's kind of a long story. I can never say anything in fifteen words or less.

I don't remember when I started using MySpace - it was when Eric's daughter pretty much ordered me to get on MySpace, when I hadn't been using it. So I got on, just to please her. I started blogging there years ago, and it was a polite, respectable tone that I took, knowing that my real world friends and family were reading everything I said. I don't recall what year that was. I don't recall everything I talked about in the beginning. Maybe just little things going on in my life, and sometimes, social phenomena or things having to do with money and economics, later on, but that might not have been on MySpace. But I was aware of my audience, and the content of the blogs was respectable in front of mixed audiences.

Sometime during those years, I was frantically writing hundreds of emails to a guy who actually didn't live too far away - he was somewhere around Philadelphia or New Jersey, and I could have easily gone to see him, and in fact, I tried to find him. He was a substitute teacher in the college. He was an English teacher. I don't know his socionic type, but it was very obviously an irrational type instead of a rational type, and it was some kind of ethics, and some kind of intuition. He would have been an IEE or an IEI, but I don't know which. He was gloomy, pessimistic, bitter, and cynical. Why I would pass up all the happy-go-lucky, look-there's-a-butterfly type of IEEs, and instead always go after these gloomy, cynical ones, I don't know (assuming he was an IEE, though he might possibly have been an IEI - I have a hard time telling which type of intuition and which type of ethics they're using, but I know for sure it was intuition and ethics). I'm going to just assume he was another IEE because there was a strong attraction and he reciprocated.

I found him in a chatroom during the darkest months of the winter of 2000-2001, I think? I was miserable and lonely, I was living with my then-boyfriend and I felt that 'something was wrong' with the relationship in many ways, but I don't have to go into all the details.

So I went looking. I wanted to find something sort of like in Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: I wanted to find the answers to life, the universe, and everything. (And strangely, talking to this guy, I really did feel as though he had some kind of 'answers.' He had a spiritual deepness that I desperately wanted.) I found a guy in the chatroom who called himself 'Nerdman' and who was sometimes reciting esoteric, bizarre poetry, quotes from books that nobody had ever read, which had special meaning to him, and movie references, and who used really big words that I had to look up in the dictionary. I flattered him by informing him every time I was looking up one of his words in the dictionary. Now that I think about it, I remember he told me that he was teaching people English as a second language, ESL. I got the impression he knew more than one language, but I don't know which ones. He had visited Japan and Hong Kong (if I recall correctly), so he knew some of the Asian languages.

We had quite a few conversations. I did something that hurt him. I tried to email him and he stopped answering my emails. Forever. He told me that once, in the past, he had ignored another woman who had done something to hurt him. I know a couple of the things that I was doing that hurt him, but actually, his extreme reaction seemed like overkill to me, and it seemed like he ought to at least be able to have a discussion - but no, he totally and completely ignored me forever.

So, I kept writing hundreds and hundreds of emails. Meanwhile, I was also starting to use St. John's Wort for the first time, because of my chronic fatigue which had begun in the past, and because I couldn't accomplish the goals I wanted to accomplish. So that altered my moods and behavior and made me even more desperate to email him, and I did all kinds of crazy things to get his attention in email, like sending him my naked photos, sending a dozen emails in one day, and that kind of thing, all with no response at all.

I don't really want to talk about how I eventually stopped emailing him, but I have mentioned it before in this blog, somewhere, or maybe the other blog, I forget. I've written it online, it's just that there are so many hundreds of pages of blogs and no keywords and no tags and no categories and no index, a total mess. It actually was horrible and it was not something I *wanted* to do. (No, don't bother to try googling it right now - I actually ended up writing more about this a few paragraphs down.)

I was also having a problem with computer hackers doing things at the time. They would do things in response to emails that I wrote to Nerdman. I thought for a while that HE was doing those things, but I decided it could be anybody. Also, I was being attacked, and I didn't realize it at the time, but I would feel a 'psychic connection' where somebody at the other end of the computer would 'feel sad' because I hadn't written any emails that day, and they would be eagerly waiting to receive my dozen emails. The 'psychic connection' feeling was, unfortunately, a psychotronic attack from an unknown source, and I don't know who was doing that to me or why. I was also on drugs for some of this time, which made me more suggestible to the ideas and urges and delusional beliefs that they were putting in my head about this guy. So I kept on writing even though I sincerely tried very hard to stop.

One time, I destroyed my computer modem. I decided once and for all that I would never write any more emails to this guy. At the time, I wasn't using, and didn't know how to use, the computers at the library to get online, so when I disconnected from the net, I was really completely disconnected and didn't use it anywhere - except I HAD to use it at the offices where I worked, because of my job. I still got harassed over the computers at work, with hacking incidents and prank phone calls. So, at home, I took out the modem from the computer, and I actually bashed it with a rock, to destroy it, and it was symbolically meant to be permanently disconnecting me from this unhealthy activity and from this person, by making it physically impossible for me to get online again. So I went a while without a modem. Eventually I just bought another modem and installed it and got back online.

So yeah, when I finally stopped emailing this guy, it was like this. I sent some emails to places where he worked. Please don't tell me that this was an inappropriate thing to do, because I am well aware that it was an inappropriate thing to do, and I didn't 'choose' to do this because I 'wanted' to, but because I was desperate and felt like I had no control in the situation at all. So I sent some emails to his workplace, to his co-workers, claiming to be from him, and it was a badly done, pathetically poor imitation of him, but yes, I pretended to be him, and I pretended he was suicidal and was writing to a bunch of people asking for help. I am *not proud* to have done this, nor did I feel as though I had any free will or that I chose to do it - again, I was being attacked and didn't know it at the time.

So, the result was that the police nearly broke down his door to get in, thinking he was suicidal, found out that he was perfectly fine, and then made him print out all the hundreds of emails that I had sent him, for the police record, including the naked photos, which are now on file somewhere in some police office. That was how I discovered that yes, he had received my letters. The police called me and talked to me about having written the false suicide notes. I was lucky that nothing worse happened to me, and the incident was set aside and it did not happen again, and I did not continue writing any more emails after that.

It wasn't long after that that I met Peter at McDonald's and started seeing him, and I also stopped seeing my previous boyfriend, who I had been often visiting anyway even though we weren't dating anymore. So I was pretty much seeing Peter over the past few years, and that was all.

Some other things happened after that, but by then, I knew that I was being attacked and forced to get urges to write letters to people. I was forced to start trying to write letters to Martin, who I met at Weis, and I was also forced to try writing to and connecting with Curtis, who I also met at Weis. But I knew I was being forced and it didn't get out of control in quite the way it did with Nerdman, especially when I figured out how my moods were so influenced by the drugs. Neither of them really responded to my emails. If someone isn't able to communicate in writing, then I pretty much have no connection with them at all. There were no major disasters that ended my emails to either of them. There were a few conflicts with their friends and family who expressed annoyance with me and basically told me to leave them alone. It was nowhere near as bad as the original Nerdman incident which went on for years and years and had literally almost a thousand emails.

So after I've quit trying to contact Curtis, the 'next big thing' was Rick, after 'they' told me to google the word 'socionics,' and I've told that story several times already. I'm pretty sure that nobody has been a socionic dual since Nerdman. Peter is something, and he *might possibly* be a dual, but I'm not really sure, and anyway, there are so many problems with that relationship that it's not good for me. Maybe one of these days I'll put a lot of effort into figuring out Peter's socionic type, but I don't really want to do that now.

That is the reason why I panic, and why I become desperate and frantic, when I notice that I've attached to somebody, especially if they are online and faraway and I can't see them in person. Nerdman I could have visited, if he had answered any emails and told me where to go and when. He wasn't far away. Martin and Curtis were both co-workers and I could see them in the real world.

I was very upset about attaching to someone over in Europe who I can't see in the real world, can't verify whether or not they're actually getting my emails or whether I'm being ignored, and can't do *anything at all* with that person. I am trying to prevent another disaster, trying to prevent a five-year flood of hundreds of emails, trying to prevent some weird and bizarre disaster like making fake suicide notes to his co-workers like what happened with Nerdman, because again, I don't know how much control I have over the forced urges that they give me.

Trying to make it harder for them to control me and give me fake urges is one of the reasons why I pay such careful, thorough, detailed, close attention to every little mood and every little physical sensation that I have. I pay extremely close attention to the slightest drug-induced moods, as I am aware that they make me more suggestible and more likely to do strange and inappropriate things.

So I have been writing to Rick out of fear, as in 'Please help me stop before it's too late!' kind of thing. I don't want to write him hundreds of ignored emails for five years or however long it was.

Oh, about blogging. That was another thing. I started blogging a lot as an outlet so that I would feel less of a need to write emails to these people. Every time I wanted to send an email to someone, I would just write a blog instead. So blogging was meant to be a substitute for sending people hundreds of emails, and that is the reason why there are several blogs a day, every day, going back years and years and years. If I hadn't been blogging, those would have been emails to somebody. I blog so that if anybody *WANTS* to read what I am writing, then they can voluntarily choose to go look at my blog - or not, if they're not in the mood that day, as the blog is often not a happy place to go. Instead of forcing someone to deal with my hundreds and hundreds of emails, whether they want them or not, I blog so as to direct the energy someplace where it won't be such a bother and a burden and a nuisance to them.

That is why I think about things like, how would somebody be able to filter out the unwanted emails from a stalker, so that they wouldn't have to look at them all the time, and so that they could just not even think about it at all, and not even be tempted to look at them, because it would always be just another miserable and unhealthy letter complaining about how badly life sucks, which is a depressing thing to always think about.

So who is the imaginary third party I'm speaking to when I blog? Their identity became vague over time. But originally, it was: whoever I was trying not to email. I would wish that they would see my blog, of their own free will, instead of having the emails in their inbox whether they wanted them or not. So look at how many blogs I've written, how there might be six or seven blogs in one day, sometimes more than that if I write small ones - and then imagine that instead of blogs, those were letters in your inbox - and then you get the idea what I am doing and why I am doing it.

This also explains why I was suddenly 'inspired' by Rick's lifestyle of not having an internet connection in the house. That seemed appropriate for me to do again, considering the circumstances, as it would slow down the flood of letters being written to him. So I would disconnect as I had done in the past largely to stop myself from writing hundreds of emails to somebody.