a year on bearblog
As of today, it's been a year since I started this blog.
when i started
When I started this blog, I felt really disconnected from the world. A year ago, I had cut off my relationship with my mom, whose values still provided a foundation for my life. I was in the depths of finishing my last year of graduate school, writing up my final projects and planning my graduation without a clear job lined up. I was moon dust floating in space, untethered from any gravitational pull and without a clear direction.
When I started this blog, I was just stepping into the online world. I had just started posting small bits of myself on mastodon. Somehow, the writings of people on bearblog and on the greater blogosphere really resonated with me. Out of anything I read online, they were the most like the intimate conversations I shared with friends and the raw queer memoirs I had been reading. They were real. Somehow it felt like, if I could write anywhere, I could write here.
writing
Across all my posts, I wrote about 36k words total, with another 4k words in draft posts. That's about the length of my thesis! I find the writing process oddly soothing. For a few hours, I sit and write. Sometimes I follow a structure, sometimes I follow my thoughts. Whichever way, I feel very satisfied with having a concrete post to summarize something that's been occupying my thoughts. I'm honestly surprised that I have continued writing posts for so long, especially since I didn't have much expectations going in. I tried to blog before, but the blog would collapse after 2-3 posts. What's the secret?
trauma
The secret is trauma. About half of my posts are about processing some deep personal issues, those issues which I used to only share with my closest friends. I think breaking this barrier here and challenging myself to write about more and more intimate parts about my life has helped me keep this blog going. In a strange way, I feel like I have a bonded with the blog.
Whenever I write up my trauma, I am inspired by Obelis, who processes her trauma with her homophobic mother by making comics. In a podcast interview, she noted that she would have recurrent nightmares about traumatic events. Yet, as soon soon as she makes a comic about an event, she stops having nightmares about it.
I have noticed this pattern of clearing as well. Detailing my struggles here has made them concrete. In writing I fill out the missing pieces between each traumatic event and the present moment. How did I end up there? Why is it still affecting me today? I often don't even think about these questions before I start writing and realize... this story I've been telling myself doesn't add up! With the pieces filled in, I start to see a more complete picture and it helps me move on.
community
As I continued writing and reading on bearblog, I started talking to other writers through email. I continue to be surprised and touched whenever I receive an email about any post that I write, especially considering how personal my posts can be. Considering that feeling, I also started writing more to the authors of blogs that have touched me. Exchanging words with a writer you admire is a wonderful feeling. Shout out especially to Kayla, Veronique, Mei, Eve, Elisa, Marlene, theprivacydad, Nicky, George, and tiramisu. I don't know how the list got so long. Some I've exchanged a couple of words with and others multiple emails and blog posts. Still, their writing continues to surprise and inspire me.
I've also started to share this blog with more friends. It's interesting to see what they identify with, and we can often have a deeper conversation about our feelings. After some hesitation, I ended up sharing it with my dad. He read my post on my survivor's guilt on living a much more luxurious life compared to my grandmothers and reassured me that they are all proud of how far I've made it. Just this one moment has made all my writing worth it.