I am not sad. I am serious.
I’ve been getting mixed reviews from my blog lately. Strangers seem to enjoy what I write, while people I know personally have texted or called me several times to ask if I’m okay (with exceptions, of course; I have some really supportive friends who have told me they love what I write and they are absolutely amazing for it). “Yes, I’m fine” I’ll say, and then I’ll get that look or the tone of voice in return that tells me, “I don’t believe you.” Cool, but the only thing making me unhappy is this conversation.
There are some days where I wish I could take my blog as it is currently (and my Instagram, and my YouTube) and put it somewhere else where only people I don’t know in my personal life can see it. This is a job to me, not a hobby or something to fill my free time.
Simply put, they don’t get it. Not to sound like an angsty teenager (ugh, you just don’t get me), but there is no better way to put it. I cannot for the life of me write about sunshine and rainbows everyday. I would have nothing to say. I have spent entire nights staring at a blank computer screen wondering how the hell I’m supposed to write something “happy.”
Then, I thought, screw that.
I want to shout “I DON’T CARE ANYMORE” from my roof, put it on a tee shirt, and tell everyone I meet just so people get the point. I’m going to write what I’m good at, what I enjoy writing about, what I know. Otherwise there’s no point in this blog or being a writer whatsoever.
I write from emotion. Sometimes that comes out super happy, but that’s one emotion on a spectrum of hundreds. Maybe more, I don’t know. I write about a mix of fictitious and realistic events, about all of my emotions, about everything that inspires me. I mainly write poetry. I don’t write about food or fashion or some other topic where any emotion beyond happiness doesn’t usually belong. Those types of blogs have their place and I absolutely respect them for what they do (I couldn’t do it, I’ve tried), but we live in entirely different writing worlds. Poetry is, sometimes, very sad. Not always, but it is generally very serious.
How many great poets wrote about how happy they were all the time? Shakespeare? Absolutely not. Poe? He practically invented “emo.” I’m not comparing myself to the big guys whatsoever, but they are who I derive a lot of inspiration from.
My goal is not to make people sad, though I’ve had a few people tell me that’s all my blog does. That’s fine. There are some people who get what I’m trying to do here though, and they keep me sane. With every “your blog is depressing” text I get, I get another “this inspired me” or “this made me think” comment.
My goal is to, not whine about my problems, but to get people thinking. To get people to either take a closer look at who they are/the situation they are in, or to read something that they can relate to and feel less alone in their thinking. I love when something I write sparks a conversation, because that’s exactly what I want. Take me out of the equation; it’s not about me, but the subject. I want to start conversations about mental health, people, God, heartbreak, everything.
I feel like I sound so pretentious, but I’m not going to apologize for my blog. I’m not going to try to change the way I write simply to please people, because I truly believe in what I am doing. Sure, there is always room for improvement and I am so excited to get better with every post, but I just don’t see my writing as depressing. If someone else does, they have every right to and I respect that. I, however, see it as serious. That’s just how I write. And there is a place for that among everything else.