I'm pretty sure I know exactly what's behind the intense anxiety I get whenever someone drops a hateful review of my writing. So hello, childhood fear of people bad-mouthing me because that would soon be followed by physical violence. It hasn't been long enough.
I keep telling myself that this person somewhere in the wilderness of the interwebs can't actually track me down and beat me up for being weird. All they have is their words.
I also have to note that their words have much to say. In that they got halfway through [where I revealed one of my characters as genderfluid] before they decided to hate it with the vitriol they put in black and white.
[I have made sure I don't leave trace as to where I live, I don't share my face, I have taken every precaution. They can't track me down.]
So this person who spewed some bile was going to hate it anyway. I can't help that. I can't please everyone.
[I use aliases, there's little on the internet at all to tell where I am, I don't even use my home address for deliveries. They shouldn't be able to track me down.]
What I can do until I get any other kind of input is to keep on going. Keep on honing my art and getting better as much as I can.
[Getting to actually see me is an expensive venture and someone would have to be both rich and horrible to firkin do that. They wouldn't track me down.]
So I sigh, I take some time for me, and I do something meditative and calming before working on my Kobold mini. Which is also kind of meditative. Then I do yet another daily story and focus on enjoying myself. Whee.
[Calm down. Calm down. Calm down...]