At a certain point, continued silence stops being restraint and starts being negligence. We passed that point a long time ago. I do not say this impulsively; I say it as someone who has watched this same dynamic repeat with such mechanical predictability that its contours are now impossible to ignore. And the conclusion, inconvenient though it may be for some, is simple: the most damaging presence here is not the haters or the trolls, but the supporters who mistake unconditional affirmation for care. What makes this situation uniquely exasperating is the degree to which this has already been spelled out—sometimes by the very person they claim to defend—only to be met with an almost theological refusal to engage. Any observation that threatens the preferred narrative is dismissed as cruelty or bad faith. This is not a misunderstanding. It is a choice: emotional comfort over intellectual honesty, validation over reality. A prime example is the grotesque abuse of the word “boundaries.” In any meaningful psychological context, boundaries involve proportion, consistency, and responsibility. Here, the term has been hollowed out until it simply means “whatever I do while upset.” Escalation becomes empowerment. Volatility becomes self-respect. The fact that this definition collapses under even minimal scrutiny seems irrelevant, because scrutiny itself has been rebranded as harm. This rhetorical sleight of hand pairs nicely with the community’s near-mythical relationship to medication. Medication is invoked as explanation, justification, and absolution, often simultaneously. Everything is either caused by medication, solved by medication, or tragically worsened by its absence. The inconvenient reality—that medication is not designed to replace therapy, reflection, or behavioral change—is quietly ignored, as though mentioning it were an act of aggression. None of this is new. The villains rotate—Korea, the internet, anonymous forums, family—but the structure remains unchanged. Responsibility is always displaced outward. Control is preserved as an illusion. Agency is discussed endlessly and exercised sparingly. What makes this especially absurd is that many of her reactions are not ambiguous. They are openly acknowledged, sometimes by her own admission, as unhelpful. The pattern is familiar: an outburst, an apology, the deletion of that apology, followed by a declaration that she is not in the right headspace to hear feedback. This is then paired with a renewed search for an external cause that requires no sustained self-examination. The stated goal is stability. The result is instability reinforced. Rather than interrupting this cycle, her supporters fortify it. Every escalation is reframed as understandable. Every critique is reframed as abuse. This is not protection; it is enablement. Shielding someone from accountability does not make them safer—it makes them more fragile. There is an uncomfortable truth many would prefer to avoid: sometimes the people cheering you on are more harmful than the people pushing back. What she needed was a small number of grounded, trustworthy individuals. What she got instead was an audience—emotionally invested, conditional, and increasingly possessive. That said, it would be dishonest to deny her agency entirely. Oscillating between passivity and total refusal to listen is not boundary-setting; it is a defensive swing between extremes. Each extreme is then enthusiastically validated, ensuring the cycle continues. She is not stupid. She is aware of her missteps. What we are witnessing is instability—shame colliding with overcorrection. When every mistake is immediately attributed to external forces, trust erodes, including self-trust. This is not about antis. It is not just about family or geography. It is about avoidance. Problems are approached in ways that feel empowering in the moment and make everything worse over time, while a chorus insists this is growth. If this sounds arrogant, so be it. Silence would be worse. Unconditional affirmation is not kindness; it is abdication.
Precision matters. Patterns matter.
Anything less than responsibility is not support.
It is complicity.