Isolation breeds insecurity. I write, blog and otherwise bare myself through the things I reveal here at Daily Kos and even though it may be environmental, political or in the form of another public issue it always contains a kernel of some private and personal truth.
And although Netroots Nation was a wonderful experience, only I can turn something so amazing into a chance to be so introspective and gloomy. And the phrase that came to mind was, Isolation breeds insecurity.
Blogging for me is an isolated action, where I put my words, ideas and the shared ideas of others up for public consumption. Sometimes people comment, sometimes they recommend, sometimes you wind up on the recommend list. But there is a lot that happens that we are completely unaware of.
There is activity that goes way beyond the obvious actions that take place here at Daily Kos. There is a feedback that you are unaware of. It can't be counted in page reads or circulation, like a published newspaper (although, newspapers don't often allow for the instant gratification of "post a comment"). Letters to the editor, email and phone calls can close that gap for the traditional news media, but it's not as if this isolation is a new concept.
But for me, being as so singularly insecure, this isolation seems to bring it to a pathological point, to the point where I think it keeps me from writing more, doing more and actually getting to a better place.
I spent the weekend craving the feedback, wondering what was happening beyond the rec button, were people reading. It was fucking pathetic.
But it has a long history for me, from an abandoned childhood from a father I never met, to a bright child who was picked on for being too smart for her own good. It was playing dumb in high school in order to survive and never trying hard enough because, why bother, I wasn't smart anyway, since I spent too much time listening to an abusive step father who spent a lot of time hammering down what little self esteem I had as an adolescent girl.
And every time, at every turn, when I think I am going to break away from that twist, I seem to sling shot my way back to that isolation and insecurity.
I didn't apply to one college because I never took the SAT, well because I didn't think I was really quite smart enough. Abuse to a child is evil, belittling, name calling is bad enough from your peers, but from an adult, it really eats at you. I still finds it eats at me.
And then I went to work out of high school and finally found my way to college in a round-about-way and there I was told that I wasn't good enough by Professors, but just a couple of them, most were supportive and encouraging, but I have a way of only listening to the few critics and remembering only what they have to say.
It drowns everything else out.
So when I graduated and my advisor told me I had no business going on to Grad school, I listened, even though so many more told me how much they loved my writing, my film making skills, etc. And I let my life devour me whole.
And I was spit back up here just a few short years ago when I started to find my voice again. And I haven't been able to shut the fuck up since. I don't think anyone, no matter what they say, will ever be able to stop me now. I know better.
But that isolation still breeds the old insecurities and I still find that I seek praise, the feedback and the pats on the head. And for those of you who are so encouraging and patient with me, you are saints. I am forever grateful for that.
And I know there are many who tolerate my puppy dog eyes, when I patter up to you at such gatherings like Netroots Nation and I can see the annoyance in your eyes, but you smile (or you run away), thanks for that too.
I'm constant piece of work, as we all are. Progress, not perfection. And I'm always attempting to strengthen my voice, to try to make it clearer, to find where it can be most effective, most clear and most helpful.
I am not a wonk, there are a lot of people that are very good at that. I have found that my strengths are telling stories, about people, about what is happening to the world around us. That in itself is a miracle that I am finding who I am and what I'm good at.
I'm learning to embrace myself, for who I am and for what I can do. It's been a long journey and I still have such a long way to go. The last few days were too short, I didn't get to speak to many people I wanted to talk to for hours at a time but for every minute I had, I was grateful.
It took me out of that isolation and it took away a little bit of that insecurity. That is priceless.