A long time ago blogging was my life. My day started with sleepily reaching for my phone to check my notifcations and reply to those Eastern Time zoners who were still up. I’d spend the rest of the day fidling around with a new post, getting the words just right, and coming up with the right cartoon. Most nights, I’d fall asleep on my laptop with the worpress homepage still up on the screen.
Life wasn’t too great. And the only way I coped was by making every horrible thing sound like a big joke. It was my way of trying to convince myself that my life was hilariously fun.
At one point I even nearly had a relationship with a fellow blogger. Sure he was about 32 years older than me, but it didn’t matter. We understood each other. We had the same sense of humor. It was perfect.
The relationship didn’t last of course. Real life got in the way, and our emails and comments to each other became fewer and farther between. Must’ve been one of the simplest breakups of all time.
I got freshly pressed one day. For being batshit crazy of all things. I told the world things I wouldn’t even tell my best friends, and WordPress put it up on their homepage for the world to see. In all honesty, I felt a little naked, everyone could see parts of me I didn’t want to see myself. Within three days I got about 2000 followers.
And through all of that I realized that the reason I blogged was because I was lonely. The reason I had any mental health issues was because I was so lonely that if I screamed out in my room nobody would be there to listen. And I was so grateful that there were people out there who read my blog that actually wanted to listen. Every comment, every like, gave me a mini-high. It was a rush of excitement until I could reply back. My anxiety disorder became less and less severe, and I could finally function like a normal person. It didn’t matter that 90% of the people I knew I’d only met online, they were MY people, my friends.
And then, I met someone. A real person. Someone I could touch and feel. He said he loved me. And I wasn’t sure. He said I could take as long as I needed. So I did. He took me out into the real world, on top of mountains and under waterfalls; places I’d only be able to see on Google maps if it wasn’t for him. I loved every minute of it. It was the kind of high that getting a thousand follows in a day couldn’t top. My face nearly hurt from smiling after I spent a day with him.
That’s when blogging started becoming more and more difficult. I didn’t need to turn my problems into humor because I rarely had any. Life was good; I was happy. The real world was finally almost as good as my virtual reality. Every minute I spent online was a minute I could’ve spent in the real world doing real things. I was torn between all the online friends I held so close and the few people that I knew outside the internet. I wasn’t lonely anymore. The internet was my escape, and I didn’t need to escape anymore.
My blog posts became less and less frequent, until I nearly gave up. But I can’t you see, I can’t give up. I can’t let all of this go. Sure, the real world is pretty great, but I miss you. I’ll be having a conversation with someone about Star Wars and I’ll be wondering what Twindaddy is up to. Walking the streets of Sydney meant wondering if I might bump into Steph somewhere. Any mention of dark magic makes me think of Sandie. High fives, Amy, and short stories, David. I miss you, all of you. And you guys have clearly made a HUGE impact on my life. I can’t let this go.
I might not be here every single day. And I might not be able to come around as often as I did, but know that I’m here. If I’ve read your blog, you’re probably popping up in my mind while I sip my morning coffee, and I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for being here. Life wouldn’t be the same without you guys.