How does anyone do this? And by ‘this’ I mean, blogging? It doesn’t matter how many times I rewrite these sentences or how long I stare at the blank screen before me, I know that as soon as I click publish I will want to delete every word that has been written. Is this how I am supposed to feel? Is this feeling of inadequacy and mortification a natural part of the process of starting a blog? Is this what Zoella felt like?
I’m not really sure what I am supposed to say. Through my observation of other bloggers, the dreaded first post serves two functions: firstly, to introduce the blogger, and secondly, to explain the purpose of the blog. However, with the exception of telling you my name, I have yet to figure out what this blog is going to be. For the last eight months or so I have been experiencing somewhat of an existential crisis. I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing with my life. Just like Esther Greenwood I am sitting in the crotch of a fig tree surrounded by all the possible futures that I have yet to make a reality. And because I am so terrified of making the wrong decision, I made the worst possible decision of them all; I’ve done nothing but cower as the figs fall and die around me.
But for some reason, on a quiet February afternoon I felt compelled to do something. I got up from under the fig tree, plucked a fig from the branch and I created something. And this blog is that something, because of course when one is in the midst of an eight month long existential crisis what other recourse is there but to start blogging about it? So that is what this is. And if you don’t find reading my writing as insufferable as I find writing it, then stick around and we can figure out what this blog is going to be together. At the moment this does sort of feel like shouting into the void, so feel free to say hello or share some words of encouragement/anonymous hate. I’m not fussy.
Until next time.