01 February 2025

Calling Out My Anonymous Commenter

I am fairly certain that I know who my rude, hateful commenter must be. I know exactly what it was that struck a nerve with them and made them comment what they said. All it takes is one bad day and your comment could make that person end their life.

Yes, ‘Google Analytics’ does not give as much information as it used to, but I still know that they have a Motorola E20 and that they are based in Harborne and Birmingham. I only know three people that have connections to Harborne – one has moved to a remote location in Wales, one is the head of the ‘Risk’ department at a solicitors and the other is a very vain person, who is paranoid and thinks that everything that I do is about them. Luckily they have left me alone since the 14th January.

If I have you wrong, I am not sorry, because whoever you are, you should know better than to be a keyboard warrior and say hurtful things to people. Stop acting like a dumb Gen Z early twenty-something year old. You are such a coward that you could not even use your name, instead you hide behind being anonymous. Where I work, if you call in anonymously, no one will answer your call. Why? Because you have something to hide. You are most likely a scammer or a hacker (and if that is the case you will really dislike my upcoming post) or you are just going to behave manipulatory and/or be mentally abusive. I hate negativity. My brain cannot process horrible people. It is not that I refuse to, it is that my brain is wired differently to the average person’s. It cannot be taught or trained in certain mechanical ways, like “How to cope with this,” training videos. I know exactly what I am supposed to do, but Asperger’s cannot be reprogrammed in every aspect and this is one of the aspects that mine cannot control. I try really hard to be as nice and polite to everyone that I interact with, but I will not tolerate people who say or do things that can harm other’s mental health.

I have put up with a lot of mental abuse my entire life. Since turning 33 years old, I have made it my mission to remove all of the toxic, mentally abusive, manipulative people from my life. I have built up my own safe space. I now have the keys to my own maisonette. Yes, I have a lot of work to do to it, before I can move in, because the previous owner decided to destroy the place after I viewed the property, but I own my own place. I own my own place and I did this by myself. I do not have money from a partner. I do not have inheritance money. I do not have money from a family member. I have worked really hard to get where I am. I have scrimped and saved every single penny to earn a better life for myself. And to my nasty commenter, I say, “Ha!” If you think that saving money and not spending it on stupid celebrations, like Christmas, and not doing anything special is being mental, well I own my own maisonette. Although I did not really want to have to, I have enough money to get the kitchen refit, after the previous owner covered everything in poo and smashed all of the cupboards to pieces. I can get the place plastered and paint the rooms myself. I have already ordered most of my furniture, because unlike most people, I do not have any family to give me their hand-me-down settees or coffee tables. I have worked hard for my money. I have saved my money and I am buying my own furniture, and not university flat-pack tat that makes your home look like it is from a tacky 1980s sitcom, which also devalues your home.

Dear anonymous commenter, try to put yourself on the receiving end of this. Imagine your daughter received a message, like the one that you sent to me. Would you want to track them down and rip their head off? I am sure that it would make you angry. Are you smart of what you did? You should be ashamed. So ashamed that I demand an apology. You may have left me alone, for now, but I know you will be back. You always come back. As of the date that this blog is posted, I will still be residing at the address that you knew me to live at. I will be there for at least the next six to weight weeks, while my maisonette it undergoing repairs. I want an apology. I want you to turn up at my front door and say that you are sorry. Not just for the keyboard warrior comment that you left on my blog, but for the mental abuse too. Up until this point, I have been very cryptic with revealing your identity, but I know you are paranoid enough to know that it is you. Just like when I was on a date, during lockdown at the only park I could meet the person I was dating at, because we lived in neighbouring towns and the park near where you lived was the only location we knew where both towns were allowed to meet up at. You sent me a vicious message then. I was never there because of you. You were paranoid then, and you are paranoid now, or you would never have posted the malicious comment. If you would not be happy if your daughter received a message like the one that you left, if you would not want your daughter to feel the way that you made me feel, while I knew you… ashamed to exist, an embarrassment, not good enough, ignored and you gave me such low self-esteem that when a colleague said to me, “Good morning, Josette. How are you today?” I collapsed and hyperventilated and they had to call an ambulance. If you would not want your daughter to be treated like that, apologise. And using the phrase, “I apologise,” is not an apology. Man up. You made me the upset, needy, clingy, scared person, who was obsessed with needing to hear from you to make sure that everything was okay and I was constantly terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing, and sometimes, in your presence, I was even scared to breathe. I know that, at the time, I did not react to how I was being treated very well. I know that I said things in a way that I should not have said them, but I was hurting so much from all of the mental abuse… I was fighting to survive a conversation with you every single day, just to be noticed and acknowledge… you made me that desperate, clingy person. You created that. I was merely Dr Frankenstein’s monster. I know that I behaved in a negative way to you, and I know that I was not in control of myself or my thoughts for a long time either. I am sorry for everything that I caused you. I am sorry that struggled with being pushed aside. I am sorry that I struggled with being ignored for long periods of time. I'm sorry that I struggled when you would show strangers and people that you do not know online attention and not me I am sorry for being obsessive and clingy, because I desperately needed to hear from you, because my entire life was falling apart and you were my only way to feel okay.You were my lifeline. Without you, I did not have the strength to keep fighting the negative things that keep happening, even to this day, with my family and my neighbours. If you give me the chance, I will apologise to you too, because I am truly sorry and never in my entire life did I ever intend to cause you difficulty or upset or anything negative, ever. It hurts me to know that you have no much anger and hate towards me, when all I ever did was try to make you happy and do what seemed best for you, even when what was best for you, was not good for me. I am sorry that I wasn't good enough at putting your needs before mine. I am sorry that you felt the need to have to keep parts of your life a secret from me or lie, because you thought you had to protect me. I am sorry if you could never be your true authentic self around me. I never intended to ruin over four years of your life, while you helped me survive four years of mine.

Look, Anonymous… I am not asking for an apology, years later, for the years of mental abuse. All I am asking for, is an apology for the comment that you left on my blog on the 28th December, where you could have made me end my life. You could have made me think, “What’s the point in trying anymore?”

I know who you are, and I am not afraid of you anymore.

- Josie -

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