For me, jumping right into the deep end of this Olympic sized web pool was not a good idea. I nearly drowned because I had no idea it was so big and so deep. By day three of trying to grok the meaning and functions and interrelatedness of groups, streams, diaries, blogs, membership, following, editing, queques, tags, et al, I was going under for the third time. Had it not been for Cranky Users, I'd be fish food by now.
So I scrambled back out of the deep end back to the shallow end of the pool. I spent a whole day pursing the mysteries of how to un-follow and un-join everything I had enthusiastically clicked, on hoping to somehow tame the raging river full of whitewater rapids they called MY STREAM.
(First off, as a nurse, I had to consciously redefine the term "stream" from the definition learned long ago when working in a male urology ward, where the status of ones "stream" was seen as matter of rather extreme importance and for some, it seemed connected to their sense of manhood.)
I had NO idea that if I followed a person, it meant everything they'd every written would enter my stream and stay there, apparently forever? Then I learned the same thing happened when I'd follow a tag, which literally guarenteed my stream would become a flood that would carry me off for good. I am making some progress in reducing the flow, but still not ready to say it is worth all the angst and effort. Time will tell.
For a simple soul like me, there are way way too many ways to find, see and do things here than I will ever comprehend or use, that leave me dizzily spinning in place, or lost in space, or both. I've taken to using a small notebook, where I draw myself little maps of where to go and what to do once I get there, when I finally learn how to do each task. (You don't hand a GPS system to someone who has never seen one before and expect them to navigate with the thing. Just give me a damned MAP I can READ!)
From the shallow end of the pool, I could relax and just read and comment awhile without fear of drowning. I can even write and post a diary on my own, just not from inside that scary group thing over there in the deep end of the pool. That sort of thing is for much better swimmers than I am, at this point.
I must say I am surprised to find myself still here. So many times this past week, a part of me wanted to say f*ck it : who needs this aggravation, and write some kind of blistering GBCW, or at least a semi-bitter TTFN tirade. I guess this place means a bit more to me that I wanted to admit. (I am a stubborn old curmudgeon who hates having to admit I need anyone or anything!)
It is the widest window on the outside world I can find. It is where I can connect with a diversity of people I can relate to, that are in such short supply here, in this senior building full of mostly aging straight white christian conservatives who, even if they like me, once they know who I really am, all they want to do is pray for my sorry gay heathen soul. And it's where I get to write things I can't share anywhere in my face to face life, unless I want to pay the high cost of doing so, day after day after day.
So it feels good to be able to report progress made. I still get cranky when I get lost, or venture past some drop off, but now I know enough to just wait and read more and learn and let osmosis help me absorb what I need to know in order to stay here.
I'd really like to thank everyone who has taken the time to write all the many helpful diaries simply from a sincere desire to help others figure this place out. Please know your efforts are very much appreciated!