Tell Me I’m OK, Internet
why I overshare
Why do people confide in the internet?
Why do many of us look at this digital space filled with conspiracy theories, porn, and cat memes, and think “ah yes, I shall reveal my struggles, doubts, fears, illnesses, neuroses, and traumas here!”?
I’ve claimed that I do so in order to make readers feel less alone. (Or even just one reader. One would be enough.)
I hypothesize that if someone comes across my words of woe (anxiety! depression! self-doubts! fear of sex! bullying!), they’ll feel a twinge or two of comfort. They’ll feel less weird — the bad, uncomfortable, unacceptable, something-isn’t-right kind of weird.
I claim that I’m being selfless.
Hey, I’m bravely exposing my struggles to help others! I’m doing my part to combat mental health stigmas! Sharing is scary, but it’s all worth it if even just one person feels a teeny tiny bit better for a moment! My pain can be someone else’s medicine.
But I’m lying.
Well, half-truthing.
I’m not selfless. I’m not writing only to give.
I’m also writing to receive.
