Hello! If you want to read the article, it’s here:
It’s quite an interesting article about the roots and rise of confessional blogging. Why do we share so much, and what are the pitfalls of using the internet like a box in a church? In the print version, I was slightly amused that the strapline accompanying my piece was, “Bipolar writer blogs about her sad but darkly funny life”. It was the, “sad” bit that made me grin. I might get, “Sad” tattooed on one knuckle, and, “Darkly funny” on another. I don’t have a sad life- I don’t think I’ve had a sad life, either. Apart from the usual things of a troubled family and dead parent- and, of course, periods of being a bit mental- I think my life has been quite a good one. Right now, it is a lovely one. In general I’m not particularly sad in my demeanor. I’m wondering if people who read it now think I blog in a darkened room, adorned in a veil, capturing my tears in a well. (I actually catch my tears in a saucepan, then add them to ink).
That aside, it’s an excellent article. Part arch cautionary tale, part wink-wink celebration. I know why I started: I’ve always kept a journal and I was worried about boring the knobs of the people around me with my tiresome bibbling about treatment. I know why I wound down, too- I started out as a barely-left-teenagehood mentalist and have ended up a 25 year old woman who was tied to the identity of a young mentalist. I’ve been quite lucky in terms of blogging. I write about something that is intensely personal. In the before-subbing version of my bit, I mentioned that this topic leaves you open and vulnerable to some very damaging criticism, or just plain malice. I haven’t had much of that. Apart from a few unpleasant commenters, the worst thing that’s happened to me as a result of this blog is somebody finding my address and harassing me via email and other means, threatening to come to my door. If they had, they would have had their balls knocked into their throat by me. That was ages ago, though.
Having said that, I am still keeping the majority of this blog offline for now. It isn’t trying to hide my past, it’s that my past is in a searchable archive that people keep quoting back at me. And also some of it makes me bite my fist in its melodramatic silliness. I’m not ashamed of my past, though, and not ashamed of this blog. I do feel less of a compulsion to write here these days, and I’m sometimes irritated at myself for finding it difficult to write about topics that aren’t confined to the few square inches of my own skull. It’s not good. But I am weirdly attached to it!
Anyway, go, have a read! And if you blog- why?
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