I’m doing pretty well as a Medium writer, getting attention and earning a bit of money. I’m happy with how it’s going. But I can’t help but suspect that I’m doing well because I started publishing there during the coronavirus.
It’s a good time to start publishing on Medium.com because there’s a captive audience right now of people hungry for things to do watch, read and otherwise consume. But it’s a very good time for a writer like me because while many might want inspiring or light content, a lot of people have fears and anxieties they can’t name or talk about. They’re open to pieces by someone who can put their fears in words.
I just happened to be born with a talent for words that I nurtured with journaling, English degrees, letter writing and emailing (once email was invented). Then I spent almost 16 years maintaining this blog. I also happened to be born into a household troubled by maternal anxiety, anger, fear and unpredicable rages. My struggles with depression started when I was in high school and my life has been marked by regular anxiety, fear, hopelessness and emotional paralysis, all supported by a firm foundation of self-hatred.
Writing things down in a journal helped, so I did that for decades. My writing talent developed along with my understanding of my emotions and internal mechanisms, and I became increasingly skilled at explaining what was going on inside me. Unfortunately being able to understand and explain my moods and self-destructive tendencies didn’t lead to overcoming them. It just made me sound like I really knew what I was talking about on the subjects of mental illness, depression, low self-esteem, suicidal longing, and overwhelming emotions. At any rate, I’ve developed a real skill for articulating anxiety and fear.
You who have read my posts on depression and suicide have seen me function almost like a translator for people who don’t have depression and who judge harshly people who kill themselves. I have taken seriously my self-appointed role as one who helps the non-depressed understand the depressed.
And lately I’ve developed a new role: putting into words some of the specific kinds of pain that many are going through with the coronavirus. My Medium article My Addictions Have Gotten Worse During Quarantine has gotten the most views of any of the 15 or so I’ve written since March 21st. Similarly to my writing on this blog, my Medium stories don’t suffer from the optimism-bias that plagues many Americans. I give opinions about how self-isolation is affecting us, how long the virus will be around and how well we’ll come out of this. For whatever reason, these pieces do all right, for now.
Now I drag out my old saw that people with depression often do better in crisis than people without depression, but I believe it. And I think others recognize when someone who isn’t hampered by optimism is speaking truthfully.
But I have to include that people with depression often don’t do well when times are calm and pleasant. Right now I’m a Medium writer with a talent for articulating corona-related pain and fear. Maybe my stories won’t be at all popular when things go well again. Fortunately/unfortunately, things probably won’t go well again for a couple of years.
It’s a good time to start publishing on Medium.com because there’s a captive audience right now of people hungry for things to do watch, read and otherwise consume. But it’s a very good time for a writer like me because while many might want inspiring or light content, a lot of people have fears and anxieties they can’t name or talk about. They’re open to pieces by someone who can put their fears in words.
I just happened to be born with a talent for words that I nurtured with journaling, English degrees, letter writing and emailing (once email was invented). Then I spent almost 16 years maintaining this blog. I also happened to be born into a household troubled by maternal anxiety, anger, fear and unpredicable rages. My struggles with depression started when I was in high school and my life has been marked by regular anxiety, fear, hopelessness and emotional paralysis, all supported by a firm foundation of self-hatred.
Writing things down in a journal helped, so I did that for decades. My writing talent developed along with my understanding of my emotions and internal mechanisms, and I became increasingly skilled at explaining what was going on inside me. Unfortunately being able to understand and explain my moods and self-destructive tendencies didn’t lead to overcoming them. It just made me sound like I really knew what I was talking about on the subjects of mental illness, depression, low self-esteem, suicidal longing, and overwhelming emotions. At any rate, I’ve developed a real skill for articulating anxiety and fear.
You who have read my posts on depression and suicide have seen me function almost like a translator for people who don’t have depression and who judge harshly people who kill themselves. I have taken seriously my self-appointed role as one who helps the non-depressed understand the depressed.
And lately I’ve developed a new role: putting into words some of the specific kinds of pain that many are going through with the coronavirus. My Medium article My Addictions Have Gotten Worse During Quarantine has gotten the most views of any of the 15 or so I’ve written since March 21st. Similarly to my writing on this blog, my Medium stories don’t suffer from the optimism-bias that plagues many Americans. I give opinions about how self-isolation is affecting us, how long the virus will be around and how well we’ll come out of this. For whatever reason, these pieces do all right, for now.
Now I drag out my old saw that people with depression often do better in crisis than people without depression, but I believe it. And I think others recognize when someone who isn’t hampered by optimism is speaking truthfully.
But I have to include that people with depression often don’t do well when times are calm and pleasant. Right now I’m a Medium writer with a talent for articulating corona-related pain and fear. Maybe my stories won’t be at all popular when things go well again. Fortunately/unfortunately, things probably won’t go well again for a couple of years.
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