This blogger has been “away” for a while. Nearly six months to be semi-exact.
It started after I broke my knee in a car accident and totaled my Caravan. Suddenly unable to walk on both legs for six weeks, I had to sit around the house with my leg in a brace or hop on one leg using a walker to move from the bedroom to the bathroom to the living room. This was my entire life for six weeks.
After the first two weeks of watching The Dog Whisperer, The Doctors, The View and The Ellen Show every day while waiting for the Meals on Wheels people to drop off my brown bag lunch, I realized that I was going to die. I was going to end up stuck under a pile of clean laundry on the sofa and no one was going to know it.
I do not live alone, mind you. I live with a husband and two teen-aged boys. Nevertheless, the possibility existed that they would find my shriveled skeleton under the sofa cushions one day and shout “Hey guys, guess who I found!”
Then one day I realized that the only place I felt productive was at the computer.
At first the symptoms were vague. My need to be in touch with SOMEBODY out there was acute. I began to obsessively visit all of the social networking sites I could find.
It turns out people do not sit on Facebook waiting to have a conversation with other people all day long. Unless they’re deadbeats or recovering from an immobilizing injury.
So I turned to another web resource to meet my need for attention. I became obsessed with starting new blogs. I suppose I wanted to be the creator of the next “it” blog to storm the blogosphere. “THIS is a GREAT idea! It will really catch on!” I would tell myself.
So I would pick a template and color scheme, add a banner pic, decide on font, widgets, do I need a calendar? What the heck is CSS anyway? Well I DO need a site visit counter! Ok, stand back and preview. And voila! It’s bee-you-tee-ful! Click “publish” and wait.
Hmm. Not many hits. At least 15 minutes have gone by. Tweek it a bit. Ask friends for input. Get the silent treatment. Tweek again. Oh crud, let’s face it – nobody but me cares about this. Let’s try another idea. And off we go again into this cycle of create and wait.
They were funny! Poignant! Absolutely original in concept!
Ok, maybe they were mediocre. You’ll never know because you didn’t read them, and no I will NOT re-activate them so you can judge for yourself, it’s too late for that, so there!
Eventually I began to shudder at the thought of spending so much time trying to write something meaningful with a humorous or satirical slant to it which would be read by millions and enrich their boring hamster-wheel existences, when I could be, oh, let’s see — cleaning out the fridge – and get more accolades and satisfaction from a job well done.
A touch of lethargy set in, making it difficult to put my thoughts together in a coherent fashion. How to draw attention to my blogs? I know no one is reading them because of the handy stats reports made available by your friends at WordPress. And also the lack of comments in the comment box.
Maybe I needed a catchier title? Something provocative – maybe include the word “gurl” or somehow work in “Michael Jackson” in the concept to ramp up the hits.
Soon my lethargy, the gnawing, and the shuddering grew into a full blown virus so hideous and malevolent that I would not wish it on any other blogger, regardless of political persuasion.
Yes, I can admit it now to the world. I had fallen victim to Blog Mania!
All the signs were there, I just hadn’t connected the dots. Bloggomaniacal Personality Disorder, or BPD, is characterized by an extreme need for attention from people all over the world whom you have never met nor will likely ever meet in real life. This attention can be in the form of either adoration or pure hatred. It doesn’t matter. Attention is attention people! We’ll take it in any form we can get it, O- KAY?!
The final dot I had to connect was the Twitter dot. When I signed up on Twitter, I knew in my heart of hearts that I was near the end.
Tweeting is not really blogging. It is “micro blogging.” It’s the equivalent of a teaser or a sound bite. Most tweets you will get now that tweeting is nearly required by law if you are going to claim to be “internet savvy” have almost no substance. For example:
“For more information about my thing I want to promote see this link right here.” Folks, that’s an ADVERTISEMENT, not a blog entry.
Occasionally you get a tweet that has something to do with the life of the person who is tweeting. “I feel as if I am going to jump off a bridge if no one responds to my tweets in the next 20 seconds and clicks on my Etsy store.” That might be over the 140 character limit, I’m too lethargic to count. But you know what I mean.
I was told I must be on Twitter. So I am on Twitter. And, LOL! I bet you’ve never heard THIS one before: I am now a Twit! No, I really AM a Twit. Because there is no actual point to Twitter except self promotion and the need to be noticed. It’s totally narcissistic. And really really sad when the only people who are following you are promoting sex and they “found” you within .001 second of your account going live.
I am not funny or interesting on Twitter either, it seems. But darned if there are not some people who actually choose to follow my little bitty tweets. My tweets are more like peeps. When I am writing them I am thinking like this: “Hi, um, well, guys, do you, um, do you think David Letterman is a dirty old man now, or – is that ok to say on here?”
It’s like writing in your high school yearbook and knowing it is going to be in there lurking around to bite you in the butt again at the 20th reunion. You want to write something good and memorable. But most likely the person whose book you wrote in tossed out the yearbook after he divorced his high school girl friend anyway. So who really cares?
But I digress. It’s probably the lethargy thing. So what was my point again?
Oh. Bloggomaniacal Personality Disorder. So I have it. And so do you. It’s pretty much a pandemic now, but it doesn’t get much press. That’s because all of the “press” are infected as well. That is the insidious nature of BPD. It worms its way into your life and lurks there, waiting for you to type in certain key words and search certain sites until finally somebody, somewhere sends you a tweet, an email, or an instant message. And then you are hooked.
I know of no cure. If your computer crashes, you always have your BlackBerry. And even if they take your BlackBerry from you, the library will let you on the internet FOR FREE!
Send donations to support research for the cure of Bloggomaniacal Personality Disorder to me at my new blog www.curebpdnow.org and I promise I will put the money to at least as good use as if there really was a Cure BPD Now foundation.
It’s just I’m between jobs right now, so, can you give a gurl a hand here?