I've had a steemit tab open consistently since I joined this website, in the hopes of getting into a habit of looking at it regularly, planning to get in here and start meeting people, talking, building a community, maybe making some money if I was lucky. I've never closed it, lest I forget that all of that was an option and a thing I wanted to do. I kept seeing it in my open tabs on Chrome and thinking "Right, that's something I need to get back to."
I haven't actually clicked on the tab for well over a month.
I wish I could say that wasn't typical of me. I wish I could say that it was a conscious choice to set this aside in favor of being productively busy with other things. But the truth is I was afraid, and I am often afraid. I've never been able to keep up with a blog, or anything remotely similar that's accessible to a public sphere, because I fear being open and honest. I don't know what to write, what will be accepted, what will get attention, what will be seen as meaningful... and so I don't. I've never known how to "brand myself," in business or otherwise. There are an incredible number of facets to what makes up "me" and any definition I attempt to put on that seems necessarily limited. And yet, I feel like it's expected, and that if I write anything consistently, whether on this platform or any other, I'm supposed to have a topic, a theme, a passion, a common thread that runs through from post to post. But in actuality, I don't think of myself as ever being so consistent.
I fear that if I allow people to see all the parts of me, I'll be seen as inconsistent and fake. I am tempted to spin and adopt a false image in order to be seen as real. It's a paradox.
In my offline life, I do this unconsciously. I've been realising recently how much I give the impression of happiness. People have commented over my whole life on how much I smile. How much I laugh. How much I have fun. How much I enjoy things. People assume that I'm happy, well-adjusted, stable, confident. People assume I'm an extrovert, and that I'm comfortable with both other people and with myself.
People frequently don't believe me when I say that I'm an introvert, or that I struggle with anxiety and depression. I don't bother trying to tell most people that not only do I not leave my apartment if I don't have something specific to go do, but that on a lot of days, I don't even get out of bed for significant parts of the day because I can't convince myself of a reason I should be awake.
I don't believe that what other people see of me is false, ultimately. I do enjoy things in the moment. I have fun with friends. I have a very good sense of humor. And despite all my anxiety and occasional need to entirely avoid interacting with people, I'm certainly not shy. But is that the same as being a happy person? From my own internal perspective, I really can't see it that way, but many times it seems easier to simply stay quiet and accept whatever others have said about me than to attempt to explain.
I don't know what the goal of this post is. I'm not looking to be cheered up, or for reassurance. I think I'm saying this purely to break down the walls I put up for myself, to push through my own expectations and the ways they hold me back. To prove to myself that I don't need a topic or an angle or a simple image of myself to put forward before I can post anything. I can just be me.