…& quit blogging
It started off with a whole string of events that can occur in any ones life, which just meant that I was too busy to be posting regularly. At some point between the ups and downs, I just didn’t want to post..
As consumers of social media, I think concept that begins to blur the most, is picking out reality from a still shot. Its easy for us to forget that a picture is not an exact representation of a persons whole 24 hours, but a reflection of a single moment. Being a writer, I believe my emotions play the most significant role in the way I construct the images around my pieces. I always thought I had a pretty fair grip on the writing I shared and the writing I kept to myself, until I got to a point where I didn’t want to share any of it.
I just thought, if my captions wouldn’t hold much – posting pictures for me would be pointless too. Naturally, when I started to feel like I didn’t want to post, blogging was the first thing that stopped. I couldn’t bring myself to share a caption, a long-form blog post was a long shot.
I find it funny to refer to myself as an artist but I think that there is an element of artistry to everything a person creates, and just like an artist – I can go through weeks at a time where I do not like anything I write, make or do in general.
I personally do not feel like I have been exposed to a perfectionist culture. I’m not denying that it exists. It does exist and it’s here, but I didn’t have to be on social media to begin to feel like a part of it. It’s something I’d always held in me.
As if not feeling the part wasn’t enough to stop me posting, I eventually thought that my page didn’t look the part too. I guess you would probably see this as a direct effect of all the meticulous feeds you can come across on a daily basis on the explore page. But I really don’t believe that to be the case. I mean, as far back as I can remember – I’ve always wanted my own personal page to look exactly as I envision it to be in my mind – or a close/better alternative. In school I would tear out countless sheets from my work book after writing a single line if I did not like how my handwriting would look. At times I would complete the better part of a project and start from scratch again.
And I simply see my Instagram page as an extension of my workbook. It got to a point where one morning I wanted to delete most (all) the pictures from my account. But doing that would be the equivalent of setting three years worth of notebooks on fire,
and I’m not prepared to do that just yet.
If you were to see me right now, I would look to you like the living contradiction of everything you’ve just read about me. Because. Well. I’m not a perfectionist, not in the dictionary sense, not in any sense. I mean, I just spilled some tea on my white t-shirt as I’m writing this and I wholly believe it’s alright to continue to wear a tea stained top around for the rest of the day, and believe me, I will.
It isn’t perfection that I’m looking for, its more a connection. I didn’t like the feeling of detachment from what I myself had put out there.
Like most creators on the internet, I have an emotional investment with each image and piece I publish to the world. I didn’t wanna have to feel obligated to post. I mean at first posting every few weeks felt a little forced, so I stopped. Not posting at all – well, that felt even better. Natural. And more than that, it was the right thing to do at the time.
I know that saying I just didn’t want to be on here is too weak a case, but it was hard for me to approach a topic that I had not fully come to terms with myself. I think its because we’re taught how to react to more open and direct emotions like anger, but don’t really know what to do with the silent underlying ones.
Being a generally positive person, I didn’t feel like any thing I was posting was positive anymore. So I took sometime away from posting to focus on being in tune with myself, and understanding the vision I had within me. I wouldn’t hold myself as an advocate for the importance of mental health if I really didn’t point out that I DID NEED time, and had to just trust myself in taking the time off and learning more about my state of mind.
I know that the time away has done me a lot of good. The blank posts are there to act like as an indent on my feed. This time, it’s important for me to see the physical break in my page and restart at a place I want to be.
I’m back with my (somewhat) unedited self. I’m not promising better content, nor do I think what I post will be any different from before, but it feels good to be back – and that’s all that counts.
oh wait, this entire essay would make a lot more sense if you followed me on Instagram wouldn’t it?
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