Being Honest

If I am to be honest, and that is the whole point, now, isn't it, I stopped blogging once I realized that I was never going to be Dooce.  I started blogging thinking that perhaps it was like school--be dilgent, do your homework, and succes follows.  Oh, I TOLD myself that I wrote for me.  But, in reality I wrote to appease the gnawing Praise Junkie that continues to reside in me despite multiple excorcisms.  When I was a guest blogger at Michelle's, when I got my first non-friend/relative comment, when I hit double digits on a post, I felt full as the hollow empty feeling resided a bit.  I checked my stats obscessively. 

The fear of failure, the fear that I already WAS a failure was always with me.  Why weren't more people reading me?  Did I need to start talking about bowel movements and my sex life?  Was I a bad writer? Not funny? Not readable? Too boring? Too bland?  Did I not comment enough on other people's blogs?  WHAT WAS I DOING WRONG?

Eventually, I came to feel that I had just missed the curve with this whole writing thing.  Only a handful of people would get famous from blogs, and I just wasn't it.  Ditto for the whole novel writing thing.  People reading less.  Saturated market.  Impossible to break in.  Just not in the cards for me. 

I didn't talk about this deep seated belief that I was simply born at the wrong time, trying this at the wrong time, or my worst fear that I was simply lacking in talent.  I let my depression drive the ship for a while.  I got hung up on other people's lives, other people's success.  I spent (and spend) hours and hours reading other's blogs.  Writing blogs became so painful I avoided them altogether, instead getting sucked into infertilty blogs, knitting blogs, mommy blogs.  Each comment, each success felt like a knife.   Each well written book by a successful author felt like a slap, a personal affront.  Each good small-house book felt like an insult. 

So, I lost myself in my knitting.  In knitting, there is certainty: an item will emerge and you will be praised for its creation.  If you slog through, you will be satisfied at the end.  If you follow the pattern, check your gauge, 95% of the time, the item will fit.   In writing, there were no such certainties. 

Could I bear to keep writing knowing I would most likely not be published? Not be able to support myself even if I was? Could I bear writing knowing that I was not Dooce or Yarn Harlot, or Meg Cabot, Jennifer Cruise or Lori Foster?  Could I bear to keep going feeling this deep seated certainty that it was all for nothing? My "back to school" plan seemed like a joke to me or rather on me.  I wanted something so much that I believed would never happen. Over the last six months, writing and dieting became these untouchable things that I wanted so badly and yet could not do. 

I'm not sure what the answer is.  I want to find my way back to self-confidence, to tenacity.  I want to be able to say, "screw this, I am going to do this anyway."  I want to not be a Praise Junkie to not have such an ugly need keeping me from what I want more than anything.   

Comments

[Frances]

I have had all those feelings about blogging too. I think the thing is to be yourself. Your audience - even if in the single digits and relatively small - will love you for it. I do believe that authenticity is what makes for a great writer and a rewarding reading experience. You are capable of such honesty (and that's a gift) - so go for it.
If you write it, they will come.

[eve]

Hi! Good to see you back - in whatever way feels best for you.

In reading your "return" posts, I've identified so many feelings I had myself with the blogging phenomenon. I think that we who keep personal blogs (as opposed to current events or whatever) can sometimes reach that point where a hiatus seems best. The good thing about blogging is that it's such a personal, evolving art form, so you can do with it exactly what you want, and there's no one to tell you it's right or wrong.

Well, take care, and hope to read more in the future! :)

[tanya]

I have really, really missed your blogs these past months. I understand, as well, the frustrations that come with blogging. i hope you continue with blogging. As long as you do, I'll continue reading!

[Kathy]

I know, I know, just what is the point? I started a knitting blog because it seemed that there was a difference, there were physical projects to be documented, there were techniques to be learned, lessons shared...wait, isn't that true with life?

To get the comments or the visitors, all you have to do is comment, comment, comment on other blogs I guess, and when I began I did the whole blog explosion thing. Then I sat back and said, why? I'm not dooce. I'm not the yarn harlot, though I find her so real and funny I sometimes wish I was!

I'm sorry I don't comment as much as I should, but I enjoy stopping by and reading your posts. I know I dislike it when I see on my stats that someone's been by and not commmented. So, here I am!