Before being in Steemit I had a mask on. I wore a facade of success and strength because it was expected of me. I had a great career, lots of friends, supported charities and volunteered my time in helping the poor, the abused and the mentally troubled.
[From Unsplash - Tom Roberts]
My social media profile would show only the good things. The fun times, the achievements met and the food ate. I was living the picture perfect life framed by the filter of Instragram's need to be beautiful.
Little did I know how this constant lying to myself would lead me to the worst depression episode I would have.
It started with some problems at work, to several issues I had with people, to losing a substantial amount of money and a general feeling of being trapped in a loveless relationship.
There were days that I would get up and just have the urge to just go back to bed. I was robotic at work as I would put the biggest smile I can muster and radiate positivity because it was expected out of me. Inside I was empty,
I was a rock that people used to keep them level. A foundation of strength and so I could not really show any signs of weaknesses. I was a great actor that could fake positivity in the midst of turmoil. So no one knew what I was going on.
It was during one of those lucid intervals in between being asleep and awake that I resolved to do it. It set forth a series of events that I would plan and execute with the cold precision of going through a process map. A checklist of things to do.
My shrink had not given up on me and as a last ditch plan she told me to start writing again. Late October my account was finally up and made 5 cents on my introduceyourself post. Woohoo! I was off to a great start!
Money was just a bonus and there I was writing one bad poem after another, creating dark fictions of suffering and madness and even zapples of my pain. I did not really expect anyone to respond to me, because who would want to connect with a loser with barely no Steem Power.
And yet some people did. When I wrote about what a semicolon meant for me. It was as if the floodgates opened and people started to respond and care.
That was just amazing, people started caring and providing hope and understanding. People who had gone through the same thing talked to me and made me feel safe for the first time.
Steemit made me open my eyes and take off the mask that I wore. It no longer needed to be worn as people saw my vulnerability not as a weakness but as an opportunity to help out.
I met some pretty amazing people who made me grateful of their support and understanding. They were healing me with their presence and hope, Filling me with their meager positive energy. That is the thing when you give that out it never really leaves you but just helps replenish those who need it the most.
Steemit gave me a sense of community as daily I would engage and support people who were undergoing the same thing that I have gone through.
Steemit gave me a renewed purpose to read people and help them through their sufferings. To make people feel that they are never alone that life is beautiful when we remove our facades and become true to ourselves and to other people.
That is the beauty of what Steemit can do for one person who in the darkest chapter of their life, saw a spark that would eventually lead to community building and caring for another person. It is only when we give that we receive more.
So I want to continue writing in Steemit. Continue to inspire and motivate people that we can be our most awesome version here.