You have no idea how incredibly fucked up getting dooced can be.
You know what, let me tell you how incredibly fucked up getting dooced can be. Me, I was a happy little blogging camper, merrily blogging along, bloggity blog blog, blogging whatever came to mind without worrying about keeping anyone happy or saying the 'right' thing or tailoring the message for a specific listener...you know, all those things you do in meatspace that keep society running happily..? Those things which are part of to 'face to face conversation with people you know' as opposed to 'writing for an anonymous audience'? And that was lovely. I eventually had lots of readers who seemed to be amused by what I had to say (for the most part anyway.) So time went on, and I got complacent and I got careless.
Here's where it all fell apart: I was idiot enough to link back to myself while commenting on a family members' blog.
Holy fucking shitstorm of stupidity, Batman.
I'd like to say that I learned some pithy-ass lesson from the whole wretched incident, but that ain't what happened. What happened was, during the course of trying to maintain some personal integrity, making myself understood, and wishing I could just grab a baseball bat and simplify the whole ordeal, I came to realize that 'choice' and 'responsibility' are very nebulous concepts for some people. And that one specific member of my extended family is a complete stranger to the meaning of things like 'appropriate boundaries between family members', 'if I want your imput I'll probably ignore it anyway because you're an idiot', 'how on Earth did I manage to say so many things to you specifically when I WOULDN'T MEET YOU FOR TWO MORE YEARS', and 'making me be a passenger in your vehicle while you deliberately run over a live squirrel and then giggle does nothing to endear you to me'.
Which leads me to my point...
'Family' is not a sane construct. It is a primitive construct. It is designed to repel mastadons and housebreak infants, and generally speaking, it only accomplishes half of that on a good day. Get dooced by family, then, and chances are good that you'll put up with a substantially higher volume of BATSHIT INSANE than you do now for the rest of your life.
Welcome to mine.