There might be a chance that you’re asking why I started this blog. There’s also a much stronger chance that you don’t really care. But either way, I’m going to answer the question.
First of all, I tried to do this as my first vlog on YouTube. It’s a terrible video. Both in terms of visual quality and actual content. But you can still watch it if you feel so inclined. I’ve improved a lot since making this, but I like seeing where I started off.
Right, that’s an awful 8 minutes out of the way, now down to some writing. Or in your case, reading.
I’ve always had a passing fondness of writing. Back in 2009/2010 I started my own website to review music. It was called All Metal Music. And it sucked. The website was awful and the writing was equally so. But I learned a lot, and eventually I dropped the website and I moved on to Rocksins. I tried to start taking this music journalism thing more seriously, but, for whatever reason, it just kind of fizzled out. Life got the better of me and I lost all my enthusiasm for almost everything I had previously enjoyed. I couldn’t stand the prospect of physically interviewing bands, and I just didn’t care about writing. But I was depressed. From the start of 2009 until the tail end of 2016 I suffered on and off with depression. Sometimes I was merely ok, other times I couldn’t stand myself, life or anything in it. Well, apart from Rachel. This post may already get a little lengthy, so I’m certainly not going to get into that here. But having depression can often stop you from doing the things you like.
Then, after being clear of depression for somewhere around 9 months, ironically the entire length of Rachel’s pregnancy, it came back. This time in the postnatal variety.
So I guess I started this blog purely because I’m very impatient. When I first wrote out my postnatal depression story I knew I wanted to post it somewhere, but I didn’t know where to turn. I contacted a few magazines, but the vast majority of them either didn’t care or said they took a few months to read submissions. A few months to me felt like a lifetime; I wanted this story out there as quick as possible. I’m not exactly sure why, but I felt like I put so much of myself into it, and opened myself up so much, that I wanted others to read it. I felt that it was a slightly untalked about subject, and if someone could take something from it, and perhaps help themselves, then I had done my job.
So I started this blog. I thought screw it, if someone’s going to publish this story, then why shouldn’t that person be me? And so started Isablog.
I’ll be honest, the worst thing when doing something like this is picking a name. I kind of said “Isablog” to Rachel as a joke. I have a daughter called Isabelle, and this is a blog. IS A BLOG. Hilarious. But she liked it, we had nothing else, and that was that. It stuck.
But you can’t just start a blog, write one post and call it a day. So I felt compelled to write more. And as I did, I grew fonder and fonder of the process. I started to feel pretty good every time I wrote; I could see that I was getting a great sense of catharsis from it.
Around two weeks into the blog one of the magazines I contacted, Green Parent magazine, got back to me and said they’d publish my story. Suffice to say, I was ecstatic. This was the first time anyone had ever offered to pay me for something I had written; and I finally felt like I had been validated as a writer, even if it was in such a small, one off way. They did require me to remove my original post, but that was fine, even if that did mean rewriting it so I at least had a version of it on the website.
Anyway, I hope this gives some sort of insight into why I started all this. I know there’s a strong chance that you don’t even care, but then you have somehow clicked onto this. So there’s a small part of you that’s at least interested, in some way, shape or form, as to why I’m doing this. So I guess this has been for you.
Thank you for caring enough about this blog to find out why I started it. I’m not sure what it’s going to become in the years ahead, but then that’s like most things. Who knows, maybe I’ll have a year of this and knock it on the head. I’m not afraid of quitting things I don’t enjoy. But as of this writing, I really love what I get to do here.