Emotional Hijacking

I've spent almost the entire morning in what can be best described as emotional turmoil of the worst kind. I made an error in judgment and I will own it, because the fault is all mine. I shouldn't have posted the picture I took of my niece (waiting for the bus on her first official day of school) without gaining my sister's permission prior to doing so. It was wrong and I apologize for not respecting her privacy.

My Dad was pretty up in arms about it too. And as I could have guessed, my sister called him first thing this morning to tell him what a horrible person that I am. To be thirty years old and have your father call you to basically say what a shit he thinks you are for not thinking is pretty painful. But the worse thing was when he said that as far as he's concerned the whole idea of my blog is pretty stupid to him.
"I've never read it and I don't ever want to," he said. "If it's personal, it shouldn't be on the internet."

And without him reading it, there's no way to prove to him that it's not the SLAM book my sister has described, filled to the brim with evil content concerning my family and my lack of regard for them. But how do you prove this to someone who doesn't want to know the truth?

"I'm no different from Audrey," I tried to explain to my Dad. "Being a writer is like being an artist, except instead of colors I use words. No one has ever yelled at Audrey and told her she was stupid or complained about what she's painted. She's put her feelings on canvas and everyone tells her how proud they are of her."

"She doesn't post them on the internet though," he tossed back.

"No, she just puts them on display in a public gallery for anyone in the world to see. My writing, my blog, it's the same thing except they're words. My life put down on paper for anyone to read. It's who I am."

"I don't like it."

"That's just it. You don't have to. No one is forcing you to look at it, to read it, to even acknowledge that it exists. And SHE can do the same thing. SHE doesn't have to read it, and I've asked her time and time again not to. No one is holding her hostage and forcing her to look. SHE does that all on her own."

"Still Stacey ..." He said, "I don't want you posting anything about anyone on there anymore."

"I can't do that," I answered. "How can I write about my life, if I can't write about the people in it? It wouldn't be about me anymore, it wouldn't be real."

I could not however change my Father's mind, for much like me, once his mind is made up, he's too damn stubborn to change it.

I did however try to go on with my morning, despite feeling like I'd been run over by a Mack truck and a migraine the size of Kentucky. I thought we could all move on from here but as it turns out I was wrong.

Signing back on to my computer, I found two more emails from my sister regarding my infraction and my blog in general. I feel the need to post them here in defense of myself, to prove to all of you out there that I am really not this bad horrible person she says that I am, and because I think I really need to hear someone other than myself and my best friend say that this is really blown out of proportion.

This dear people is my sister as I've known her for the past 30 years ...

don’t call my house or I will get you for harassment, don’t show your face cause I promise you, I will not be forgiving this time. GROW UP! GET REAL!
ps I saved your message to play for DAD! TO hear how you turned something that you did on me! you are pathetic!
YOU SORRY SAKE OF SHIT! FUCK YOU FAT ASS! GEEK LOSER BITCH! 100% DRAMA QUEEN! poor Stacey, poor SKANK! BEFORE I GO< fuck you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
YOU DUMB FUCKING BITCH HIDING BEHIND A FUCKING COMPUTER!
FROM HERE ON OUT YOU ARE DEAD TO ME!!!!!!!!

Is it wrong of me to hope that she really means to leave me alone this time? Do I really need a person who caused nothing but pain and hurt in my life? Can I wash my hands so easily of my flesh and blood? Have I really done anything to deserve this?

I feel like I'm on a sinking raft in the middle of the open sea.