Every morning starts with my phone. Well, OK and my cat.
We digest the info on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram as our parents would have done with a newspaper, and we treat it as our news – getting up to date with the world before we leave the comfort of our beds to face another day.
But for people in the media eye, for people who blog, people who write for a living, especially online, the mornings bring more than just a healthy dose of gossip, they bring a heck of a lot of hate.
I have no idea how people like Danielle Lloyd and Lauren Goodger do it – celebrities who probably get more hate thrown at them than they do love and support. Celebrities who must have to have an every day battle with whether or not they bother checking their Twitter notifications, or Googling themselves – or the one thing i’m really struggling with attempting not to do – Twitter searching yourself. Yikes, for every three girls chuckling and sharing a list, there’s somebody who thinks you’re worse than the dirt on Ian Huntley’s shoes and it’s hard.
If I imagine every comment, tweet or email I get sent and blow it up by a thousand, I don’t think I would cope. I don’t think I would have the innate strength to rise above it, no matter how many sweet messages were sent my way at the same time.
I am in a good place mentally, the best place I have been in a long time. The last time I cried was because of an influx of happy emotions rather than because I found myself in a dark place unable to see my way out of it, and it feels surreal that I am semi self-employed, writing about my life and my interests to make a living – and it is that intense feeling of pride, and the ability to still do double takes on where my life has taken me, that sort of holds me up at the moment, makes me feel mentally sane and dare I say it, happy.
I’ve always said the haters don’t bother me, but I think of sub conscious level they bother the absolute bloody heck out of me.
How can they not?
To have people, on a daily basis, tell you you’re rubbish, not good enough, an idiot, a poor excuse for a writer would effect anyone despite how much you try to block it out.
And for someone still ever-so-slightly raw from a battle with depression? Yeah, those negative comments help me start every single day with a nice
Some days I feel like it might all get too much and i’ll topple from my throne of not caring. I’ll topple and i’ll want to quit writing and quit living my dreams and i’ll want a life away from online bitches and bored twats. Maybe i’ll start a cheese shop run by cats or something.
I watched a vlog not that long ago from Zoella. It was just a video of her crying and saying that people don’t realise that sometimes her life just gets too much, sometimes it’s too over-whelming, and I get it, I totally get it. People in our industry don’t have the choice to ‘stay of Facebook for a bit’ to pull away from the internet, because we are the internet.
And I think that’s half the problem, the internet can make people feel like their not real, because we can’t see them in real life, and it’s so easy to press send on a Tweet or comment without thinking about how that will effect the person on the other end.
So whenever anything I write goes viral, be it on my blog or on Metro.co.uk, I am of course overwhelmed by the fact so many people can relate to it and i’ve written something people want to share with their friends, but I am also always waiting with baited breath for the haters to start rolling in.
You can try to get into my brain and tear apart everything I have built for myself as much as you want, but right now I am winning because I am still here writing and entertaining.
And on a side note, haters? I’m off to pack for my holiday which I can afford because morons like you are still reading my work. And when read it and think it’s shit and want to share the fact it’s shit with your 27 Twitter followers, that’s fine by me because you’re bringing more views onto my blog and you’re making me money. So thank you, you absolute beasts, this holiday’s on you.
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