Bleak house (mine)

I'm not doing well. I keep trying to work up the energy to blog something useful. I have stuff to say about Lion and some other technological stuff, but I guess I don't have the energy to say it right now. So instead I'm writing this mini post to ponder anew the role of online communication in people's lives these days. I have realized that I feel, oddly, closer to many of my online friends than the ones I have in real life. Maybe it's because the real-life ones are the ones who have hurt me---because they can. There is also an undeniable pull for me to blog my life, what really happens, how I really feel, what the world actually looks like to me. But it's not appropriate to be that transparent, and at least nominally I'm supposed to be a professional nurse, for now. I'm on leave, but probably I'll go back, hence the "nominally" and "supposed to be."

I can say I'm not on leave for any work-related infractions. I can still say I'm a good nurse; I just can't follow it up with "and people like me" anymore. I have had some issues I did not handle the way I wish I had. I am breathing proof that if you let your job suck you dry, it will, and if you're a nurse you're really, really disposable. Still. I let things get me too far down. Never let what you do define who you are. My job is not me. Sounds good, doesn't it? The thing is, it IS a large part of my life. I spend a lot of time there. I used to have friends there. It's not that easy to dissociate from the place.

So anonymous blogging is on my radar. I normally feel a strong pull to write things and reach out to people, and now it's very strong. I am very alone in real life right now. I am not a desirable friend. I am truly about to put my phone in airplane mode just because it hurts so badly to be ostracized (for those of you who can't follow this logic: if I KNOW I'm not going to get texts or calls, the silent phone is not hateful). Yet I have things I want to talk about. I have things I want to send out. Writing letters and burning them has never helped me. In fact, that has always struck me as total dumbassery. The phenomenon interests me. I'm not the only one with this urge. Look around and see all the people who obviously feel like letting things out. What's the psychology there?

Maybe I'll start a temporary Tumblr blog. Maybe catharsis is all I need. Maybe I'll scribble only in my Moleskine. Maybe I'll lie flat on my back and listen to Spotify and cry until my leave is over.

Probably I'll write an actual post here soon. About computers or something.