… For something as seemingly infinite as the internet, things are starting to feel a bit crowded around here. Stifling to the point of suffocation.
If you’ve ever ended a long distance relationship you understand the small solace found in knowing you’ll never be subjected to those painfully awkward moments of running into each other in public and enduring the strained exchanges that follow.
But there’s no escaping the internet. Facebook is six degrees of Kevin Bacon. Everyone is a friend of a friend and it’s where all the people you’d rather not ever hear from again live. It’s in your face. All day. Being linked to, shared, liked, and followed. Yes, it is very much possible for the internet to be too small for two people to share.
Compound that claustrophobic feeling with having to adopt the pretense of not caring, being mature, and appearing aloof. I’m cool. It’s cool. We can share this corner of the internet amicably. All the while, inside you are dying to pour out your heart, express your hurt, stamp your feet, and hold your breath. Instead you exchange disingenuous pleasantries like, “It’s nice to see you’re doing well. Good to hear from you. Congratulations on your [insert accomplishment]” because it’s not polite or mature to say “Go away. You hurt me”. Never mind that the latter is a healthier response.
I can’t remember the last time anything I posted here gave me joy.
I’ve devoted far too much time to politics. I’ve been on a steady intravenous diet of news. It’s as inescapable and as unwelcome as an ex. Politics is worse; however, in that it always leaves me feeling like I need a shower. Toxic and soiled. I sincerely believe politics is the soul’s poison. Which makes it’s strange why I chose to aggressively push it on my readers and expose myself to it at an almost non-stop pace. Maybe it’s a self destructive form of escapism. Like cutting. If I focus on the world’s problems mine own will seem small and insignificant in comparison.
There was a time when writing gave me infinite joy. It was source of expression and an emotional outlet. I would scour the internet looking for beautiful art, funny pictures of nuns, and music videos to share. I would write about books & travel; all the things I love most. I was sharing beauty- something the world disparately needs more of.
But that didn’t get pageviews. And I was very hungry. Quite literally. Pretty art posts didn’t keep me in the news feeds or generate enough interest. I wrestled with being a sell out. It’s wasn’t really getting paid for writing that I considered “selling out” so much as the fact that I compromised my writing to earn that income. After awhile, if you are honest with yourself, you start to feel like a charlatan peddling snake oil – intentionally writing about controversial topics; contributing nothing more than fanning the fires of discontent and mass hysteria.
Remember; every talking head, blogger or pundit that gets paid is at times going to be very strongly motivated by that income. I am no exception. Shakespeare’s got to get paid, son.
Did you know the only medication my ailing, disabled mother can receive 100% free of charge is artificial birth control? And she doesn’t even have a uterus!
It was from this source of absolute frustration I wrote this piece – Why Free Birth Control. If I thought I was struggling two years ago as a single mother, try throwing an elderly parent into the mix. So yeah… I sold out. I had to. It was either that or starve.
Do you know how soul crushing it is to be a slave? I do. I’ve allowed myself to become a slave to this blog. The last time I felt this miserable and anxious was right before I had a heart attack. I don’t handle feeling trapped well. And trapped I am. Trapped by the internet. Trapped by this blog. Trapped by my poverty. And physically trapped at home. You can only go so far for a retreat with a car that barely runs, $10 in your bank account, and two people that desperately depend on you.
I’m sure it sounds positively melodramatic to you all, but I am at a point where I feel like the stress could very much kill me.
I don’t believe God wants me to be this miserable. Sure, he tests our resolve but I’ve never known Him to deal me something more than I can bear. So I am going to put all my faith in Him and slowly back away from the internet. I’m going to step outside and take a deep breath and try not to worry that my pageviews will plummet and how much money I’ll lose as a result. I’m going to trust He won’t let me and my family starve.
I want to thank you all for loyally reading this insignificant part of the internet, contributing your comments, and offering me your prayers. Thank you for being there for me as I shared and worked through my very painful past. Thank you for your constant support. But now I must bid you adieu.
I’m going to take care of me for awhile. I’m not entirely sure how long that will take and for that I apologize. I hate being so vague. It’s not purposeful to create suspense … I just know I’m a mess, and big messes take awhile to clean up.
Really that is all. Now profound parting words, just a request for prayers and when you see me again I hope to be in better spirits.
PS – Only because some of you have asked… and miraculously have already donated. I know! I was floored. If you feel moved to make a small donation it would be much appreciated. Current areas of needs are; engine work on my car, scout gear for my son, and help with medications for my mom. Donations always welcome, prayers always needed. Again, my humblest thanks.
Alms for the poor.