So, I’m doing a personal blog again.
I’ve been gone for a while. Over a year, I think. I was broke, couldn’t keep up with the whopping sweet-calamity.net bill of $6 a month, and I let it die. I’d wanted to move to a free blog but didn’t have the chance, and restoring everything just to move it would’ve been at least $15.
I lost a lot–a LOT–of posts, and that bums me out. I had a lot of good stuff that would be so useful when trying to write longer pieces to publish, but alas, all I have are my memories. At the same time, I’m glad I lost it. This way, this blog is a true fresh start. Besides, there was a lot of pain in those pages, especially near the end. There was a lot of happiness, fun, and growth, too, but I probably needed a break, which I’ve had for long enough.
Coming back is risky. Because I didn’t really actively hide Sweet Calamity, my friends found it. 99% of the time, that was okay. But obviously, near the end, Stephanie in particular was unhappy. I don’t blame her. I am bothered by how things transpired, mainly because I was obviously going through something that to this day I can’t really explain, and rather than her–or anyone else I knew to be reading–being a source of support, she focused on what I was saying about her. Somewhat understandable, but I really, really needed some help then. Ironically, I probably need my friends but most of them were really pissing me off. Lots of catch-22s here, and there are only more to come.
But first, let me talk about that summer.
Like I said, I was going through something and I still don’t know what it is. I spent practically the entire summer angry, upset, depressed, and nearly in tears over things that were either trivial or in my power to resolve. I have angsty journal entries in which I’m obviously deeply hurt, but I wrote them to be so vague as to not allow myself to relive it later that I now have no idea what had me so shaken up. The good thing about that is I succeeded!
At some point, something got thrown off in my brain. I don’t know how or when, or even how or when I came out of it. I can’t recall a time in my life when I was ever that fucked up, before or since. Looking back, I probably just made things worse. By being pissed off most of the time, I managed to stir up some drama. So if I’d been in a better mental state, the spat with Stephanie might never have happened, simply because the things she was doing that set me off might not have set me off in the first place.
I run the risk of repeating all of that again, hopefully sans unexplained depression. I can say that I am happier than I’ve ever been, but we’ll get to that. Sweet Calamity showed me and all of my readers that I had a lot to say about the things going on around me and the people involved, and that certainly hasn’t changed. I’m just a little more open with those people now, sometimes, I think. And I’m a fan of full disclosure. I’m a writer. I do memoir and journalism. That means my writing is full of truth that doesn’t skimp on details. Leaving things out is dishonest. There are exceptions, though. I have and will continue to refuse to publicly out any homosexuals, reveal any illegal activities of others, post anything that could damage careers, or spill the secrets of others.
So I’m a little torn about how to proceed. Most likely with pretty much full disclosure. It also helps that now I won’t be saying a whole hell of a lot that I wouldn’t say in person. Or maybe on Facebook. I dislike confrontation and I do better when I can write everything out. Shocker.
I know my friends will eventually find this. I’m not going to really publicly display the link, but they’re smart, and it’s fair game. I’d like to know when they do. It won’t really change anything I say, and I know that for many of them, reading secretly was probably the whole point so they could see what I was really thinking. The problem with that is it makes me feel like they’re just spying on me, in a sense. Sure, I offer up the information and I’d be just as curious, but like I said, knowing your friends are reading about how much pain you’re in and yet they do nothing but continue reading hurts quite a bit, really. Maybe I should’ve told someone that.
So why allow all those things to potentially happen again? Because I need to write. I’m no longer in writing classes or writing regularly since I graduated in April. A blog keeps me disciplined, motivated, helps generate material for other projects, and helps me grow as a writer. Plus, like I said and like you can read, I have a lot to say about a lot of things, and when I don’t have an outlet as great as a blog, my head’s full. This way, they get out. And I have the potential to reach people, which is one of my favorite things about writing in general. You never know how someone else’s words might impact you. I’ve also been inspired thanks to Amanda Palmer’s wedding blog. Shit, is that beautiful. It’ll get its own post.
Plus I’ve thought about it multiple times over the past few weeks, maybe even months, and I’m ready. It’s time.
So let’s do this, internet.