1825 Days

So, I recently got a notification from WordPress congratulating me on my fifth-year anniversary of creating my blog. Five years is a long damn time and is certainly longer than I imagined blogging when I first started. Granted, I took the better part of a year off from this blog (although I continued to blog on the other site, so there’s that), but I’m here now at least. I’m gonna do a tiny bit of reflecting on the last five years.

When I first started the blog, it was called “Blogging for Therapy.” I was dealing with severe depression and anxiety at the time, and I thought actual therapy was bullshit, so writing seemed like the perfect outlet.

And it did help somewhat. Being able to get my thoughts and feelings out (most of which were later deleted, because cringe) in what I considered a safe space was good for me. I know sometimes I got way too inside my head and rambled almost incoherently, but it was still better than sitting around keeping things bottled up. Writing out stuff like that can really help make certain situations become clearer. And maybe some shit isn’t as bad as it seems at first.

What helped even more than writing was the support I received from other bloggers who could relate. After I was encouraged to try therapy, I finally did, a year or so into my blog journey. I found an excellent therapist who was incredibly helpful, and my anxiety went from a 15 on a scale of 1 to 10 to a 4 on an average day. It’s so damn nice not to be constantly ready to go off the deep end. Sure, there’s always some anxiety there (and I imagine that’s due, in part, to my personality), but I know how to manage it now. And getting with a different psychiatrist and being diagnosed and medicated correctly helped a lot with the severe depression. Things aren’t perfect, of course, but manageable, which is everything. I only wish I had done this years ago instead of wasting Baby Girl’s infant/baby time trying to keep my shit together (and often failing).

And then there has been all of the blogging about the kids, which is what I post about more these days. The boy was 6 and the girl was a couple months old when I created this blog. And now, as most of y’all know, I now have a 6th grader and kindergartener. Time really does pass by far too quickly. It doesn’t seem like that long ago that I wrote about a little boy getting bit by an ant while disturbing an ant pile to try to find the queen ant and see her crown. It was obvious that BG was a force to be reckoned with when she was only a few months old, and that has certainly held true.

As for me, I was 30 and worried about getting old and leaving behind my youth (because apparently up through 29 = youth). Now I’m almost 36 and am not too concerned with being older. (Dying, on the other hand, is a different story. I creep out my husband when I get worried about that and ask him why he isn’t bothered about being halfway done with his life.) When I first started blogging, one of my hopes was to publish something one day. And I did — a few things, actually. The first thing I published was a story I wrote on this blog while hypomanic and being unable to sleep. Thanks, blog!

So, five years. Hundreds of days, hundreds of posts, thousands of comments. Happy blogiversary to me and thanks for following along. I get cake now, rightt?

8 thoughts on “1825 Days”

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