On living your truth (and broadcasting it on the internet)
While this site is still in its fetal stage, I'm still kind of feeling the place out, finding my voice, seeing what direction to go in. It's all trial and error, missed exits and abrupt u-turns. I have a lot of hopes and doubts that all this will ever turn into anything beyond me mumbling about my mood disorders and hatred for exercise to the 10 odd people who happen to click on a hyperlink that led them to this little corner of the internet. We'll just have to wait and see what happens.
The thing is: my parents can read this. My old high school friends can read this. The manager at the craft beer place I patronise way too often as it's just up the street from my building can read this. It's just kind of out there for anyone to stumble upon. And that's terrifying. I debated with myself about what name to use and what degree of anonymity I wanted to remain under. To be honest, I'm still not quite sure.
I've had a couple of exes who shied away from the whole social media thing, and that's fine. But when one of them started telling me what I should and shouldn't put on my own channels, that felt a bit much. He was paranoid, and I speculate, thought a little too highly of himself. When you think about it, the notion that anyone would actually notice or care that much about what you do and what you choose to post on Instagram is ridiculous. Yet, I was reprimanded for it. And yet, here we are. I'm still at it!
It's a fine line. Hey, I'm no Taylor Swift, but I am doing the exact same thing she is doing: writing about my life and the people who are or were in it, and then putting it out there for anyone to see. Of course, the scale is only slightly different, with my dozens of views to her billions. But I am acutely aware that I'm writing about real people. And hey, if anyone comes across anything I've written about them and feels like it's unfair or untruthful and would want me to take something down, I'd be happy to hear them out. If it seems one-sided, well, of course it is; these are all just my views and experiences. Everyone is welcome to tell their side of the story. I'd actually love to hear it. You know what they say, all's fair in love and online think pieces.
When I "came out" about my mental illness to my friends and Facebook acquaintances, it felt like a big step. What would they think? Would they understand? And yeah, it was all rather daunting, but at the same time, it's so liberating to be able to "live my truth", to talk openly about this huge part of my life, to not have to hide or lie or pretend or duck questions. To control my own narrative. It helped me so much on my journey to wellness.
Lorde put out a wonderful album this year, and there's one track on it called Writer in the Dark in which she sings about getting over this guy who hated having to share her with the world, and how she tried to "exist just for him" but that was just him holding her back. She says of her tendency to romanticise and immortalise her partner, as writers are wont to do:
I relate all too well. It's a quality and a curse that will never go away, it is intrinsically ingrained in me. So I'm laying my thoughts out here and I know not everyone's going to agree with me, especially as mental illness can be such a touchy and deeply personal subject. It's kind of absurd to me how easily you can get riled up about something a complete stranger writes on the internet. I find myself getting angry over random Youtube comments and tweets all the time. I mean, I unfollowed a writer whose work I'd been following for years just for tweeting that she listened to my favourite band and hated them. Let's not even get started on hate-reading and hate-lurking. It's not always rational. But hey, it's human. Now, feel free to leave any hateful comments below.
The thing is: my parents can read this. My old high school friends can read this. The manager at the craft beer place I patronise way too often as it's just up the street from my building can read this. It's just kind of out there for anyone to stumble upon. And that's terrifying. I debated with myself about what name to use and what degree of anonymity I wanted to remain under. To be honest, I'm still not quite sure.
I've had a couple of exes who shied away from the whole social media thing, and that's fine. But when one of them started telling me what I should and shouldn't put on my own channels, that felt a bit much. He was paranoid, and I speculate, thought a little too highly of himself. When you think about it, the notion that anyone would actually notice or care that much about what you do and what you choose to post on Instagram is ridiculous. Yet, I was reprimanded for it. And yet, here we are. I'm still at it!
It's a fine line. Hey, I'm no Taylor Swift, but I am doing the exact same thing she is doing: writing about my life and the people who are or were in it, and then putting it out there for anyone to see. Of course, the scale is only slightly different, with my dozens of views to her billions. But I am acutely aware that I'm writing about real people. And hey, if anyone comes across anything I've written about them and feels like it's unfair or untruthful and would want me to take something down, I'd be happy to hear them out. If it seems one-sided, well, of course it is; these are all just my views and experiences. Everyone is welcome to tell their side of the story. I'd actually love to hear it. You know what they say, all's fair in love and online think pieces.
When I "came out" about my mental illness to my friends and Facebook acquaintances, it felt like a big step. What would they think? Would they understand? And yeah, it was all rather daunting, but at the same time, it's so liberating to be able to "live my truth", to talk openly about this huge part of my life, to not have to hide or lie or pretend or duck questions. To control my own narrative. It helped me so much on my journey to wellness.
Lorde put out a wonderful album this year, and there's one track on it called Writer in the Dark in which she sings about getting over this guy who hated having to share her with the world, and how she tried to "exist just for him" but that was just him holding her back. She says of her tendency to romanticise and immortalise her partner, as writers are wont to do:
Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark / Now she's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart
I relate all too well. It's a quality and a curse that will never go away, it is intrinsically ingrained in me. So I'm laying my thoughts out here and I know not everyone's going to agree with me, especially as mental illness can be such a touchy and deeply personal subject. It's kind of absurd to me how easily you can get riled up about something a complete stranger writes on the internet. I find myself getting angry over random Youtube comments and tweets all the time. I mean, I unfollowed a writer whose work I'd been following for years just for tweeting that she listened to my favourite band and hated them. Let's not even get started on hate-reading and hate-lurking. It's not always rational. But hey, it's human. Now, feel free to leave any hateful comments below.
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