One thing that I have learned since I started blogging is that for every post telling you not to do something, there is just as many posts telling you to go for it. There are posts telling you to lighten up and posts telling you to write with more feeling. There are posts telling you to stop writing for free, and there are posts telling you that accepting payment is the worst thing you can do. Then there is everyone in between who is just trying to make sense of it all. A few weeks ago a post did the rounds which said that all Mommy blogs sucked. This isn’t a new thing. Traditional media hates on digital media, including blogs on a regular basis. This post in particular though stung a little too much. Maybe it stung a little too much because it came from inside the ranks. Or just maybe it stung a little too much because the writer used her own experience to tar an entire blogging community.
I’ve been doing a lot of work in therapy this year on interpersonal relationships. This has gotten me thinking a lot too. I have been thinking about the correlation between what we think about ourselves, deep down and how we conduct ourselves and the flow on effect it has to other parts of life.
Are you an introvert or an extrovert? This question feels like it is the be all and end all of social interaction. Everyone must fit into those two very distinct boxes. There is no room for different. I have proudly proclaimed that I am an introvert. Am I really though? Or is it possible to be an extroverted introvert? My feelings about social interaction are complicated. An increase in anxiety, which has seeped into the way that I interact with the world means that I am very firmly in the introvert camp at the moment. I do feel at times though that maybe it is a forced label, that I am being held in the camp against my will.
Last week I wrote about how a technical stuff up meant that I was without a mobile for most of the week. I spent most of the week hanging out in their store waiting for answers. These answers weren’t always what I wanted. My experience taught me a lot about patience and the importance of effective communication skills.I did worry that maybe my lack of reaction was another symptom of my depression and exhaustion. I was so used to the rage bubbling up and spilling over the top that this reaction was so foreign to me. It didn’t occur to me that maybe this was an OK reaction, that I didn’t always have to fight fire with with a raging inferno.
When I first started this blog I didn’t reveal what mental illness I had been diagnosed with. I left it as a kind of vague depression with self harm tendencies. I was worried about revealing that I had Borderline Personality Disorder. I was buying into the stigma that I was fighting. There was also the worry that I would be boxed in by my diagnosis.For many years I struggled with my sense of self and where my place is in the world. My place in this world is something I still struggle with but I don’t struggle so much anymore with the who I am as person. I struggle with naming positive attributes, but I know who I am. However recently I am finding that the anxiety that has become my newest BFF has plunged me back into a place of doubt.