Writing does several things at once: Firstly, it allows me to get all of my spiralling thoughts out of my mind and onto the page. Secondly, this forces me to get them into order and process them properly. Thirdly, it helps me understand myself better and makes self-reflection much easier. And last but not least, it makes me feel less alone because once I hit “publish”, people will know.
The weird thing about this is that I don’t have a problem with people I know reading the things I write. On the contrary: This is basically the easy way around having to tell people what’s going on.
Somehow, having the screen in front of me rather than people’s faces makes it easier for me to let them know. Because most of the times, the issue isn’t that I don’t want people to know, I just don’t want to tell them.
In fact, I’ve made some wonderful experiences with this in the past. Talking about these things publicly online triggers replies from people you know (if they see it at all), but also from strangers. Both of which can be quite magical:
A few of my friends have reached out to me after having read my blog posts, which was much less awkward for me because I felt they were talking to me about my problems because they wanted to and because they cared, not because I forced them into the situation.
On the other hand, I have become friends with a few people who have read my stuff online without really knowing me and somehow connected with it because they were going through a similar experience or knew someone who was.
Considering all this, I realise that writing directionless, rambly blog posts about my life is a necessity in order to keep myself sane. But this time, I will look at it with different eyes: This space has nothing to do with my aspired career in writing, it is not something I want to be successful with or make money out of.
I need this space to be personal. I need it to be random, rambly, and emotional. I need it to be real. I hope you don’t mind.