It’s not about the numbers.
Except, it kind of is.
In 2017 my blog had an even 1100 views, and in 2018 it sat at just over 900. . . This year? I just broke 600 with my last post. It’s declining.
But it really isn’t about the numbers. It’s about the words. It’s about reaching people and letting them know that they aren’t alone in their feelings, that we all go through some really fucked up shit, and you can always find a reason to smile. There’s always a silver lining. It’s about letting people know that despite the odds, you can make it through just about anything if you just keep moving.
When I started the blog I didn’t know what the hell I was gonna do with it, and I really didn’t expect much results. I just knew I had things to say and I wanted other people to hear them. It’s become a therapy for me. I can’t tell you how many posts I’ve written, hit publish, and burst into tears of relief because the words were finally out of my head. It’s probably saved me from paying a therapist and paying for a prescription or three, that I would lay money on.
It’s become a form of inspiration, as well. . . I get praise on my work, and it lets me know that despite all of the crazy in this life, I have a talent and people appreciate my work. Beyond the talent, it lets me know that I’m helping others while helping myself. This drives me to write more. I love that my work serves multiple purposes. And while it’s not widely read I do have a nice little group of regular readers and that does make me happy.
It’s not about the numbers, it’s about the words.
But the higher the numbers the more people that have read my words. . . And maybe its reached someone who needed a laugh, or someone who previously felt alone and doesn’t anymore. Maybe it helped someone realize that it is absolutely okay to have had a less than stellar life, and it’s okay to talk about it. You do not have to hide from your past. You do not have to be someone that you are not. It is okay to be you. Unapologetically.
I’d still kinda like to reach my childhood goal of being a published, well known author. But for now, I’m content with this. I’m content with maybe helping just one person through their shitty day. I’m writing less because I have healed some of the hurt I’ve experienced through writing. So if all this ends up being is a testament to my healing, so be it. I’m content with that, too. It will have done more than I anticipated when I created the account and put my first words out there.
For several months I’ve been experiencing a kind of writer’s block. I tried doing a writing challenge and gave up well before I finished it – it was boring me. I would sit there and just stare at my phone and wish words would come to me. I’ve missed it. It seems my post about dad opened the flood gates again though. Maybe I just needed that part of my story out there so I could move forward. Regardless, it’s a relief to be stringing words together again. That itch is finally being scratched and it’s a wonderful feeling.
Happy Tuesday, folks. Letting go definitely can open up some doors that you didn’t even know were closed.