Stalked Blog died last week and I thought nobody would notice. But people did notice and asked where it went. This post is to let you know that Stalked Blog is now here.
“Stalked Blog” being the website I started roughly six months after my stalker’s arrest, telling the story about being stalked by my next-door neighbor. After two years, and a few opportunities to talk about the Dark Years, I shrugged my shoulders and about a year and a half ago, stopped writing. There is something to be said about letting something run its course, and dying a graceful death. Going any further felt like trying too hard. Images of 1990s film stars doing infomercials or Olympians on reality shows started running laps in my head. Didn’t want that.
Plus, there was the stress. Much of it was self-induced, which I admitted in this post. Other instances came from more erratic readers. People who believed the world conspired against them—which they called stalking—and then detailed how they’d take revenge.
Immediately after I stopped writing the blog (but the site remained up), a reader in Germany detailed his hatred of the world in a long rambling email, ending with detailing how he’d murder people. He wasn’t the first oddball who contacted me off Stalked Blog. But he was the first one who I solidly believed would act on his threats and go on a shooting rampage.
You’d think that with all my experience, I’d bust out my super sleuth kung fu and thwart evil with ease. My web tracker said he was in Germany. I imagined myself calling every Deutsch Polizei station around the city his IP logged at. Hoping the operator spoke decent Anglish. Knowing the Germans would have no problems hanging up without apology as I explained (much like the first times I called the police on my stalker) that I didn’t have much information, but just knew evil was afoot. At that, after comparing the emailer’s sentence structures to the way my German friends wrote emails, realized he wasn’t German. If he bounced his Internet signal using a VPN, the web stats were giving me a false lead. He could’ve been anywhere.
So, on the contrary, after all this experience, and talking with other survivors of evil, all I’ve learned is how little I know about anything. How hard it is to give blanket answers. How hard it is to get help, and to be the warning bell. Knowing that, I realized quickly there wasn’t one damn thing I could do to stop that reader’s soon-to-come rampage.
I couldn't sleep for a couple of days after that.
Walking away from those readers wasn’t hard.
What was hard, though, was ignore other readers' kindness. Letting me know they read the blog. Taking the time to communicate what they got out of this post or that thing. I started foot-shuffling. Maybe Stalked Blog really wasn’t over.
Then another opportunity came to talk about stalking (which will be aired at some point). When I walked out of the studio realized: I need to continue talking about the tough stuff.
Which brings us around to me writing on a new domain (this one). When I started Stalked Blog, I was jumpy about my stalker and her supporters finding out about it. I refused to give my name or location, and romanticized about being the Banksy of crime survivors. Operating in shadow and stealth, distributing wisdom and good writing and truth-telling.
That changed after the first public opportunity to talk came. I had the option of masking my face and voice. When confronted with hiding in full sight, it stopped feeling like Banksy and more like Cowardly Lion. Especially after learning that a lot of crime survivors go into permanent Banksy mode, and never resurface. I decided to be different. Dusted off the shadows and came forward. The old domain was more descriptive of what I wrote, but writing in a domain under my name is a silent acknowledgement: I’m not hiding. It’s me talking. Right here.
In the hopes that another crime survivor will also have the courage to come forward and discuss their own experience, helping another crime survivor be brave and also talk openly, which will also lead to …