"Suffering is permanent, obscure and dark.
And has the nature of infinity"
And has the nature of infinity"
As Wilde wrote in De Profundis "suffering is one very long moment. We cannot divide it by seasons.. There is only one season, the season of sorrow". I would never compare my own “letter to my lover” to that of his. But I can understand how in De Profundis, Wilde's love had turned into bitterness, while still having an extraordinary attachment to that lover. Wilde spent two years inside his ‘prison’, I have yet to spend more than a few months in mine. I have not made my mind up ‘to live or have a desire for life’. Sorrow is my world. I haven’t found my way from it.
I want to touch on this because I keep getting asked “why does the blog mean so much to you”, and why is it important for you to keep battling Christian Kinnersley for it? I started this blog in 2013. About a month or so before I moved to Paris. I think in total I had 160 posts. Then one day I received an email from Blogger very simply stating “your blog has been deleted”. Christian had succeeded in deleting a blog I had for over 6 years with no opportunity for me to dispute the decision.
Since then I’ve been trying to rebuild it. After that happened I wasn't allowed to have my old name. I had a hard time deciding on a new one, and why I had a few (I deleted most of them). I was also generally paranoid about it happening again. I ended up purchasing two domains; one a .co.uk that had something closer to the name I wanted, and a .com because I was afraid American visitors would not consider .co.uk a legit domain. I figured with two, if one went down, I’d have a backup. Although these days Adventures is my main site, and How To is only the blog about Paris.
The blog was like a journal. I could look back at past posts and see how much I’ve learned, how much I’ve grown, and how much I’ve changed. I think anyone who writes would be upset to lose their work. Whether it’s good or bad. It’s about a huge chunk of my life. I wrote it from the very beginning of my journey so it contains my original thoughts.
I am also an ardent defender of freedom of speech. I think everyone has a right to express their views, whether I agree or not. Christian is entitled to write about his life experiences, just as I am entitled to write about mine. Deleting my work, without letting me defend it, was a crushing blow. It felt like suppression.
Christian, his twin brother Henry, and his girlfriend Rebecca, are still trying to have my blog deleted. Every few days I wake up to my post mysteriously disappearing. Every time I try to contact Blogger about it, they have no way of getting in touch with them.
But those are my thoughts and opinions on something that has changed me forever. I really thought that all of my dreams had come true when I met him. Until you’re in that position you can’t know what it feels like to have your dreams within your grasp, and then to suddenly have them taken away from you. You really begin to question what you could have done to make life be so cruel to you.
I have never been a suicidal person, but when that happened I wanted to end my life. Every day since then I have felt like Sisyphus, rolling that boulder up the hill. Each day is an uphill battle. Most of the time I wish I could just give up and let that boulder come smashing down. Like Fiona Apple on I Want You to Love Me frustrated and shouting “I want what I want, and I want!”, what I want from the universe is what I will never get from the universe.
I can pinpoint that that’s where everything changed for me. I am not the same person I was. That was a huge climacteric point in my life. I don’t know how to move on from it. I don’t know how to be now that’s he’s not there. I don’t know how to live without him, or how to a plan a future without him in it. He never allowed me to. I don’t know where to go from here. I believe I am entitled to tell that story.
The blog is important to me. That story is important to me. I am tired of being called a liar by Christian and his family. I am tired of being gaslit and manipulated. I am tired of being told, by them, how my relationship was, and what occurred during it, as if my memories are false because they can't admit to themselves that they do not know the same person I do. He keeps trying to force me to believe that I’m crazy, and that I made it all up. But I know I didn’t. I’m not good at making stuff up, that’s why I fail so miserably at writing anything other than what I know. And that is why I fight for it so ardently. I don’t like being called a liar.
When Christian and I broke up I had asked him on "a date" to watch Boyle’s rendition of Frankenstein. Thinking not much of it, I later found parallels in Shelley’s creation. Frankenstein creates the Creature and shuns him, never taking accountability for being ‘the Creator’. Much as the Creature tells Walton after Victor dies, hurting Christian does not bring me peace (despite his assertion to the contrary).
As Wilde says "to deny one's own experiences is to put a lie into the lips of one's own life. It is no less a denial of the soul". To try to forget what happened, as I have tried to do, ultimately leads Christian to deny and forget the pain and misfortune he has brought to me. I am not want to do that. Unlike Wilde, I do not forgive.
The current incarnation of the blog is not the same blog, but it’s close. For the time being I will never lose those memories, good or bad, because they will always be written here.