Message in a Bottle

Echoing loudly on the side of nauseating at this point, I'm going to ramble a bit about #socialmedia ...again.

After the last post I threw out, many people in my life (as in, more than one) reached out to me hurt or angry. I don't write anything on here for any other goal than to write to a future version of myself and maybe help a wayward depression battler along the way.

I don't write anything with any agenda.
I don't write to cause pain or spread misery.
I write for the sole purpose of releasing emotion or insight so that I can purge it from my system. The fortunate (or unfortunate) effect of this is that people can latch on and share emotion, realizing that we're not alone in this fight.

Some folks mention that they like to read my inane scribblings for various reasons. This is all beside the point. I write for me first and foremost. I need to see movement with this illness. I can't settle for stagnation. Unlike visibly seeing a scar heal, we cannot see proof of the progress. The whole process of healing is intangible and invisible to the physical eye.

Documenting emotions and feelings is the only way I know how to track this slow, seemingly endless slugfest with the overly mentioned black dog. (Captain's Log, Day 223, etc.)

Why on the internet? Why not in the confines of a private journal or secret hard drive? Because I like the romantic ideal that this is me getting as close to putting a worn piece of parchment in a glass bottle and pushing it to sea from the isolated prison of this illness. I sit with a million bottles and a million ideas. Maybe there's a one-in-a-billion shot that someone out there, some wayward shiphand ("Googler"), might hear the bottle (post) clink against the hull of the ship (browser window) and read (click) my message (URL).

I'm not sure if that metaphor even makes sense to me, or what makes sense to me anymore... or if anything has ever made sense... ever.

Swimming back to whatever point I was trying to formulate, I've once again opted to be a volunteering pariah of online society. I currently lack the self discipline to use it for good and positive ways. I only measure myself against peers and screw things up with friendships I would like to maintain, fractured and broken as they may appear.

(The majority of the daily readers came from syndication with Facebook, Twitter and other forms of means-to-connect. Seeing as how I've discontinued my use of such digital venues, I highly doubt more than three people stumble on this.

Clink. // Any use of hashtags is strictly satirical.)