You’re having what you call a mid-blogging crisis. Akin to mid-life crisis, but without the stupid urge to fuck some sweet young thing to prove you’re not getting older.
Mid-blogging crisis occurs after a certain period of blogging when regular readers have been established, blog stats do not show drastic spikes and plunges, some people on your blogroll begin to call you their friend, and you feel a certain amount of pressure to produce a post that will prompt as many comments as the last, because like people in the limelight, you’re only as good as your last performance.
You feel anxious if you don’t post once a day at least, because of that performance factor, and you have to stop yourself from posting every day lest you get even more anxious and obsessive in the future. You feel your heart sink when you see your stats plummet the day after a good post was published, because you haven’t produce a new one yet, and have no inspiration for one. And when you do finally get inspired, you feel despair when two hours after you publish a post you thought would appeal to your readers, but no comments still. Actually, blogging sod’s law always dictates that the post you think is good nobody would really care for it, but the posts you wrote in a slipshod, whimsical, self-indulgent manner would be hotly debated in the comments section.
You also feel a little depressed because you feel your blogging persona is more attractive than your actual self. And you question yourself, if you are not being yourself, because this side of yourself never shows itself except in blogging, so is that part of your true self, or is it a persona that you unconsciously fake because it is a more interesting character than who you really are in real life? Surely you have felt some sort of disappointment when you finally see the face behind a blog you’ve always enjoyed, only to find the real person is so pimply-faced and sullen and uninteresting, while in his blog, he’s extremely witty and snarky and funny that you naturally conjure up an attractive-looking face to go along with that seemingly attractive personality.
Then you feel even more depressed because you can’t quit the blogging scene, because that would mean disappointing your regular readers who, though aren’t as crazy about your blog as you would like them to be, have come to look forward to your next post, and you thrive on pleasing your readers because that’s the whole point of blogging, isn’t it? To have your 15 minutes of relative fame in safe anonymity, besides all that clichéd crap about blogging as a means of cathartic expressions and making new friends and all that shit.
You try to count your blogging blessings by thinking of all the good things that happen to you because of your blog. Like how many people you have interacted with in the course of publishing your own thoughts, like how many smiles you have smiled when you read a funny comment left by a reader, like how many heartwarming moments you get when a blogging buddy makes your day by sending you an e-card or giving you something worth $15 for free for practically no reason at all. Then you feel like an absolute, utter arsehole for being so ungrateful of all that you have received from blogging, which is generally the basis of mid-blogging crisis.
So you try to translate your frustrated energy onto your blogging editor, hoping that writing about your feelings can magically conjure up a post good enough to publish, after several failed attempts to post something profound and witty and thoughtful, which was the trigger of your general sense of frustration that you term mid-blogging crisis. Et voila! A self-indulgent post about your mid-blogging crisis.
“I think I need a hug.” – Donkey, Shrek