Smoke Signals
I think sometimes people wonder why I show so much, or post so much, or write so much. Or maybe they don’t wonder at all. I don’t know. I’m pretty sure some people think I’m a chaotic psychopath, and honestly, they aren’t entirely wrong :)
When I was going through some especially difficult times a while back, I felt incredibly alone. I had family. I had friends. But I’ve never been very good at letting people see me when I’m struggling, I would rather disappear and not be around anyone until I feel okay. I don’t want to put people in that awkward position of consoling me, or not knowing what to do, and I’m uncomfortable with it. People have their own things to deal with. So I would retreat, convince myself I could handle it alone, and do my best to act like everything was fine. I probably would overcompensate a bit and act a little too fine, or post a little too much. Posting made me feel connection, and it was easier for me to do that then have a conversation with someone. A quick hit of dopamine I guess, but it worked at the time.
I honestly didn’t need anyone to solve anything, I didn’t want to talk about anything. Most of the time, it would have been enough to have someone sit beside me in the silence. Someone who didn’t need to say the perfect thing. Someone who was simply there.
Thankfully, I made it through that season of my life, but I remember the loneliness being the hardest part. Even when I was around people, I felt as though nobody understood. The world kept moving. People with their spouses, boyfriends/girlfriends, family…and I didn’t have that. I didn’t have someone to tell me it would be okay. I think that when people are going through things, they do feel alone, even if they are surrounded by people. It’s easy to feel like you are playing a role while internally you are fighting a battle that nobody can see. What helped more than anything was when I could find tv shows, podcasts or anything online of people who shared their stories and who talked honestly about what they had went through, or what they were going through. Seeing them reminded me that difficult things end, that pain changes, and that other people have felt the same things I was feeling.
That’s a big part of why I share so much now. Sometimes it’s a book update. Sometimes it’s a cat update. Sometimes it’s a ridiculous story that probably didn’t need to be documented. Sometimes it’s something deeper. I’m not sharing because I think my life is especially important. I share because I remember what it felt like to think I was alone, and I know I wasn’t.
My social media accounts are really just little updates for my friends. Tiny snapshots of my day. Occasionally they’re thoughtful. Frequently they’re ridiculous. Sometimes I get embarrassed. Most of the time I’m convinced I’ve posted too much. But I still do it, I still want to make people smile or roll their eyes, or feel something.
Once in awhile I post something more profound, or I write a blog. Or a book. Or say something I probably don’t need to share. I guess it’s my way of saying, “I’ve been there too.” It’s my way of reminding people that they can survive hard things, that feeling scared or lonely is part of being human, and that someone else understands.
In a way, every post is just me coming over and sitting beside you. Trying to make you smile by bringing a little chaos. But mostly, just so you know you’re not alone.