So, I’ve been writing this blog for a while now, and I thought that I would give you all a little summary of what I do here. A lot of you readers haven’t been here since the beginning, and this blog must seem like a mish mash of sorts – just something you read (or don’t) because it comes up on your WordPress feed. For my Instagram followers, you might just click on it because I tell you on my stories that I’ve put a new post up, and might not have a real grasp of why I write what I write.
So take this as a second welcoming to my little word baby that I try to feed and nurture at least once a week depending on what I’ve been doing… does that analogy make sense? Who even knows at this point.
So. First things first. I know I have made my blog public on my personal Instagram page, but I choose to remain semi-anonymous on here.
I am Miss OneBigStressball, and I started this blog three years ago as an outlet for the thoughts and fears that plague my brain on a daily basis. Though I have written about a number of things on my page, I began writing it as a sort of online journal, trying to make sense of living with an eating disorder, as well as depression and anxiety, which at the time of starting my page, were taking over my life.
In the time I’ve been writing online, I have successfully overcome the worst of my ED, and have found ways to keep my anxiety under control most days, and, apart from a blip last year which I still don’t really like talking about, my depression has taken a back seat and I’ve to managed secure the seatbelt on it for now.
Away from all that though, I’m your average woman, in her mid-twenties, still trying to figure out what she wants to do and whether or not she’s good enough to do it. I am an avid reader who gets through around three books a week, a keen runner who is still trying to get her mojo back after a traumatizing first (and last) marathon in May, and I am slightly obsessed with serial killers. As in, I listen to 3 separate murder themed podcasts on Spotify. That’s healthy. Right? I like sunsets, climbing hills and tea, and I dislike beetroot, being cold, and almond flavoured food. I especially do not like people who don’t think about how their actions affect others.
Seriously though, my mum used to think I loved almond croissants until I threw one up one time in a car park and she never fed me one ever again.
Up until now, I’ve kind of come onto here and written what’s come to my mind – I’ve gone through random phases of writing, then not writing for a long period of time, and back to writing again. I think I’m on my longest streak now, and I’m loving it. As I am currently in the midst of trying to write my very own book(!), my brain sometimes either gets waaayyy too maxed out on words and sentences all jumbled together incoherently, or it likes to go in the other direction, where there is nothing but the proverbial tumbleweed and dust. Either way, writing on here helps me make sense of it all and really helps me put things into perspective. Mostly though, I stick to the main topic of mental health. Chuck in some poetry and some life events I see as learning curves and challenges, and voila, you have a blog by yours truly.
Mr OneBigStressball has featured quite a lot throughout my years of writing. He is a constant in my writing just as he is a constant in my life. He is my rock, my angel, and the person who keeps me grounded when either my personality or my medication make me think its a fab idea to max out my credit card and go on a 6-month tour of the world. (He’s just very good at putting his foot down and putting together a solid argument of why doing things like this is not a good idea.)
I guess the main purpose of this post is to re-introduce you guys to what I’m about and what I use this blog for. I also had an ulterior motive, and want to announce that the blog will be changing slightly from here on out.
I was going to wait until New Year to do this, but hey, mental illnesses don’t wait for everyone, and it is because of my brain and its complicated relationship to the rest of my body that I am going to be changing the way I write. Only very slightly though, don’t worry.
I’ve always tried to be as honest as I truly can be on here. I think it was easiest when I kept myself anonymous and no one except my best friends and my boyfriend knew about what I was actually doing when I was furiously tapping away at my laptop. However, when I made the decision to link my Instagram account to my blog, I realised there were some things I just wasn’t ready for some people to know the ‘real’ me.
Life had become a game of mastering the act of ‘being me’, day in, day out. By this, I mean the ‘me’ I projected out into the world was a rose-tinted, hyperactive, extroverted, enhanced version of me. I worked throughout my uni years towards not only obtaining a degree but also honing in on the skills I’d acquired in pretending to be happy. I hid behind a mask of alcohol, fake smiles, and laughter, and my worst nightmare was for anyone to find out that there was something dark lurking beneath the surface. Being totally honest on the blog would, therefore, mean this facade I’d been leading for the last 7 years was going to be blown wide open and people would turn their noses up in disgust about my life, is in fact, a lot of the time, an utter mess.
Looking back at my previous posts, I have been honest, but not brutally honest. I’ve covered up the worst of the worst and given a slightly skewed version of my experiences. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve not made anything up, nothing like that – liars and lying are also something I really don’t approve of in life by the way – but when something bad has happened, I’ve presented it on here in a way that makes it sound not as bad as it made me feel at the time. Or not written about it, and tried my utmost to find something positive that happened in my week to write about instead. Does that make sense?
So, from here on out, I’m not covering anything up. I’m not going to give everyone a sweetened version of my feelings and experiences, I’m going to tell it like it is, and I need to do it. For me. For my writing. I feel like we, as human beings (or maybe just us Brits) are conditioned to think that talking about feelings and getting raw with our emotions is not socially acceptable. But, if society can’t accept me as me – the real me, not constantly-smiling-and-always-happy-no-matter-what-me – then they can stick it up their backsides and deal with it.
Or ignore my blog posts, whatever is easiest.
I hope this post made sense, and I want to take this chance to say that I really appreciate everyone that reads my writing. I don’t have the biggest following, but I love you all.
Have an amazing weekend!