“This post is an exhibit of my feelings, something kept privately tucked away inside the blogosphere..For that, I am glad.”

Two years ago, my cousin made me a blog and he told me I would like it because I “chat so much crap”. I didn’t use it, except for logging in and out every few months. Then, things started to go wrong in my life. All colours didn’t seem colourful anymore; one of my best friends wouldn’t talk to me properly for months because of reasons I won’t explain in this post. All my nights seemed a monotony of sniffles and uncontrollable crying I was trying to stifle. I tried to deal with it- by blogging.

My first post, in the depressive phase that followed, detailed my angers and frustrations. All expressed in nothing but: words of despair, no paragraphing, and following the post: not a single like, reply, or reblog. But I slept that night. Because I blogged about it- I shared my sadness and looked at similar posts of similar stories, from surprisingly similar people. It didn’t make me feel over-the-moon happy but it allowed me to express the grief within me. Something that I otherwise wouldn’t have done with other people around me.

Blogging has allowed me to:

  1.  Meet other people in a similar boat of depression, despite being in a far away place.
  2. Rant my overwhelming emotions and feelings- whilst in the process, damaging my keyboard keys.
  3. Organise my thoughts regarding stuff going on in my life.

Overall, it has helped me plough through the times when I felt like hurting myself and shouting at other people I care about. It can be compared to: writing many letters of hatred to the person causing you so much pain; sealing them in envelopes; but not sending them off. It dissolves the anger but doesn’t bury it.

Blogging means I don’t have to be afraid of what other people think of me; they don’t really matter. It means I can get a neutral outlook of my situation from people I’ve never met before. Imagine that eh- sound advice from someone that hardly knows you but knows everything you’re going through. That’s proper advice; sometimes it’s much easier to trust a stranger than your own.

Blogging means I can express myself infinitely and I won’t have to worry about getting stared at for saying what I’m thinking, or my relationships breaking because they see the ‘true’ me. The truth is, all my fellow bloggers and blog readers see the true me. In every post, every tag, every photo or media link, they see what truly is occupying my thoughts. And that is something most of my dearest friends (save a few) perhaps will never get to see or understand, which is why most of them can’t help me like my blog, and blogging, can.

The last thing I will say is, that blogging isn’t a breakthrough drug that when one adheres to a medical regimen of ‘a post a day keeps the blues away!’, they will be cured. Blogging gets people through things, whom without it may be sinking inside. Kind of like an e-punchbag?

This very post is an exhibit of my feelings, something kept privately tucked away inside the blogosphere, which won’t be read by my friends and close relatives. For that, I am glad.

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