Worst Australian Blogger of the year!
Honestly, if I’m not the winner, then I’m a damn strong contender. There’s been multiple years in which I could have won this special award for ‘people who make promises and never bloody keep them’, and I didn’t even have to try! I literally didn’t even try.
Although, coming back online, having a whinge, saying “OMG U GUYZ LIKE MY BAD LOL” and *insert excuses here* is pretty normal nowadays, right? Like, you see all your faves pulling that same shtick, telling you how much they suck and please won’t you forgive them.
So screw it, here’s the truth.
I, like all your faves, started posting online with my head firmly in the clouds. I thought of all the ways I could Make It Happen™, and while I’ve never really wanted to achieve ‘fame’, I have wanted to achieve at least a little bit of fortune. This isn’t a bad thing – we all have bills to pay, food to buy, and debts. So many debts. Becoming a small-fry content creator meant I could open that door to self-employment freedom! And finally pay off my ridiculous student debt!
Over the years, I’ve tried to become a small-fry, with varying levels of success. The best swing I’ve taken at it came in about 2013, when I had a couple videos go viral and I could see the fantastic potential of YouTube. Then I went to Japan.
Living and working in Japan was a dream I’d had since I was 14. I have zero regrets about achieving that dream. If any of you have ever wanted to live in another country, I fully support your aspirations and you should do everything in your power to make it happen (™).
But it did completely bugger up my whole ‘self-employment freedom’ plan.
Coming back to Australia didn’t mean I was coming back to my old life, or even my old online life. Two years in real life time is equal to at least five online. Everything, and everyone, has changed. And I cannot catch up.
Surprisingly, being firmly out of the loop is not the worst thing to have happened to me, and isn’t the sole reason I haven’t been around.
Coming back has been weird and occasionally horrible. I’ve somehow managed to pull through a massive bout of reverse culture shock (yet another story for another day), and started working as a part-time art tutor for snotty children (again, more stories for more days), but I’ve also lost something: I’ve lost the connection to my other half, my partner, my best friend. My relationship could not withstand the distance of oceans or clashes in musical tastes. And that has been the deepest, darkest pit I’ve had to claw myself out of.
Cue the depressing music.
Just before Valentine’s Day, I’d finally managed to pin down a time we could Skype. I’d wanted to talk to him about our issues for weeks, but I also wanted him to be able to finish his assignments. These things are not compatible. When I finally spilled my guts, bawling the whole time, he said he felt all the same things. I said “Well, I don’t know how to fix this, and neither of us are in the best way to make sense of anything, so maybe we should have a break?” He said:
“No, we should break up.”
Not only is that soul-crushing, but soul-ripping, twisting, burning, crunching and over-all devastating.
Knowing that the man I wanted to marry didn’t want to even try at a later date to work things out. Knowing it was all just ‘too hard basket’ and we were done. Not knowing what to do next or how to be friends with an ex has been like cracking the last ribs in my already broken chest.
It’s been a few months now, and I’m not over it. Probably won’t be for at least another year according to the generally accepted half-life of a relationship measure. But I am through it enough to be able to talk about it. And I’m able to re-assess what the hell it is I do online to try and make a buck. What’s worth pursuing, and what’s a waste of time. I now feel that, if I’m going to keep going with this ‘online content creator’ shtick, then I need to stop kidding myself.
So here we go, blog 2-point-whatever, no more bull. No more fancy crap. Let’s do this the right way, because Lord knows you ain’t a puppy-eyed teenager anymore.