Why I blog and the conundrum of computers

When I first heard the term "blogging," I thought to myself how wrong that seemed.

Don't people have enough going on in their own lives that they would want to read what would be going on in someone else's? They must be pretty hard up for things to do, I thought.

I felt like that for a long time until my therapist began suggesting to me that blogging would be a good way to express myself. "You're such a natural writer," she said.

I fought her about it for a while, and then began to let the idea enter my head. After a while, I began to see that even if I'm the only person doing anything with it (if Helen Keller falls in a forest, does she make a sound?), then that's fine, because I'm really the only person it needs to benefit. If it does wind up benefitting someone else, well, then, that's icing on pound cake, as the old saying goes. It just seems strange keeping what basically amounts to an online diary.

I went out and read Blogging for Dummies by Brad Hill, which was enjoyable, but out-of-date, considering how Blogger has changed. I also bought a laptop. I don't watch very much TV at all--haven't had the TV on since the Golden Globes--so I'm still not connected at home, but wi-fi is a happy, happy thing. Although the "customer service" at Hewlett Packard can be maddening (Don't even try their chat sessions, as it's really hard to get them to figure out what you're asking, and their "customer service" department is in India. If you get someone with a decent command of the English language, you're OK, but if you have a hard time understanding them, forget it.)

There's a lot I need to say, that I want to say in this blog, but some days I'm not in the mood, and other days, I'm just too damn tired to write anything that will actually take time and emotions. It's helpful for me to write, always has been, always will be. Socrates was right when he said, "The unexamined life is not worth living." It's too easy to spend your life running away from the hard things in life, the things that make you regret your past, for whatever reason. Sometimes, I'd like to write about a particular topic, but I'm just not up to putting myself through the hurt that day. I'm working on that, too. Since May, when I went back into therapy, I've learned more about myself than I thought I could. I've learned a lot about why I've done what I've done throughout my life, and this is much more related to what I've done on my own than what I've learned sitting on the couch in my therapist's office.

And that is the good part. In the end, we've all got to be our own therapists. No one can make us see something that we want to see about ourselves if we don't want to see it. It's easy to block out someone's comments, true as they may be, when they're said to us by a friend, a stranger, or ourselves. It's easy to find a reason to drop the therapist if the wounds start to open and it's hurting, but the wound has to open and drain before it can heal properly. Sometimes I wonder if the wound will ever stop draining, or if it's just too big. I don't know. In the meantime, the work goes on through my sessions with her, and my own work, including this blog.

Now, one thing I really don't get is Twitter. I read in the Baltimore Sun last Sunday how it works, and to me it's like a post-it note of one's day. Do I really want to log on and see that you've eaten a chicken sandwich for lunch? No, I do not. Do I really give a shit? No, I don't. Hell, even my close friends and I wouldn't check in saying what we ate for lunch every day.

It's scary to think how computers have taken us away from face-to-face interaction. Computers are wonderful, and there's nothing like email for keeping in touch, but I've dealt with men who only want an email penpal--face-to-face relationships were too scary. That's why I gave up on
online dating. Lots of guys out there who act like they're ready, but when it comes down to it, they're not.

And, there's the assholes who are little pipsqueaks in real life, but incredible know-it-alls online. The Wizard of Oz effect, I like to call it. They wouldn't say shit to you if they had a mouthful of it if they were in a room with you, but get 'em behind the safety of a computer screen and don't they become All Mighty and Powerful. And complete utter pricks.

I don't get the whole addiction to Facebook and Myspace. For god's sake, go meet at a bar! "It's been great spending time with you, but now I have to run home to my computer and spend two hours talking about what we did for 30 minutes in person before I got too anxious being away from my computer screen." Sheesh.

I have a good group of friends now, and I'm really looking forward to seeing many of them next Saturday. We spend time online when we're not together physically, but there's no substitute for human interaction. They can't hug me online. I'm so looking forward to seeing everyone and being and getting hugged, and catching up with people since I saw them last November.

I've got a friend Jane whom I've not seen for months--her schedule, my schedule. Our emails are back and forth when we can, but our lives keep us in the way of getting together sometimes. I'm glad to hear from her, and her "how are you"s are always heartfelt, which matters much. But I miss her. Just as I miss my friend Maria and the other friends who I don't get to see because of physical distance.

I can deal with physical distance, it's the emotional distance in people I'm done with. Forever.