In the land of Blog-life, everything is always wonderful. There are always sparkly rainbows and butterflies. The birds are always singing. And even when the weather is cold and damp, we still manage to have a smile on our face and a spring in our step. This is one of the reasons that I blog. To share all the pretty, happy things that I come across. And to soak up all the pretty, happy things that you come across. Blogging is a great escape, but it isn't always real.
Sometimes I find myself jealous of other bloggers. (Yes, shallow, I know.) But it sometimes feels like a lot of the ladies out there are so put together. They have wonderful, adoring, helpful boyfriends/fiances/husbands. They find time to be creative. They cook and take long walks, have lunch with friends, decorate their houses. They wear great clothes. They smile a lot. They take pictures of pretty things and post them regularly. They seem so effortless.
When I shut down the computer and leave the job that fills my lungs with millions of chemicals and my heart with bitterness, I shut down the magical world of Blog-life. I drive home in the rain, wearing jeans smudged with grease and dirt, an old hoodie and a pair of worn out sneakers. I scrounge to get together a decent meal and hope I have enough daylight to still let the dog out to run around. My head hurts. I am tired. The floor is dirty. There are four piles of laundry to do. The bathroom needs cleaned. I don't feel like working out.
I will undoubtedly end up in a fight with the husband. He isn't very supportive. I have to ask him for money to help pay the bills. He is terribly messy and dirty and doesn't give a crap what the house looks like. Isn't worried about ever having a place to call our own. Spends way too much time and money and energy on cars and motorcycles and four wheelers. Is utterly clueless most of the time. I will go to bed exhausted and still not be able to go to sleep.
For years (about 12 to be specific) I have been in an ever reoccurring fist fight with depression. I have highs. I have deep lows. I like to throw things when I get mad. I have worked really hard at identifying my triggers and understanding how my head works. And, honestly, I do pretty good the majority of the time. It's during that time that I take notes and write outlines for a book. I want so badly to write a book that helps others as much as some books have helped me. Sometimes I believe that I can. And then sometimes, like this week, I feel like I may as well scrap the idea entirely. I can't write a book that helps others. I can't even keep myself together. What was I thinking? Life is such a bitch.
I think it's important to be reminded that we are all human. Kind of like a little skit I saw on a popular kids tv channel that teaches "Everyone farts. Even famous people." Crude, but true. None of us are perfect. Some lives are definitely more gilded than others. But we are all mortal. We all hurt. We all get sick. We all get disappointed. And this is the tie that truly binds us. Think of how you feel when a fellow blogger mentions that she is sick, or that she has a birthday coming up, or someone has hurt her feelings. You naturally want to celebrate her achievements, mourn her losses, heal her sickness. We all impact one another more than we realize. So maybe we shouldn't underestimate the things that we do and say and what they mean to others. Even when we feel small and insignificant. We are all in this together. And maybe, just maybe, I will write a book and it will help someone in some small way. Just like all of you out there in Blog-land help me every single day.