I did a thing! Well, I started to re-do a thing at least.

We used to have a bunch of paid-for domains and hosting with GoDaddy and over a year ago we decided were paying for stuff that we weren’t really utilising, so I tried to port it all over to WordPress’s free platform. Unfortunately the port didn’t go particularly smoothly and it’s going to involve a bit of a rebuild in order to get back all the different website we had.

One such website was for a comic myself and G. were putting together called “The Harvesters”, so I began patching that back together. I didn’t get as far as I’d hoped because it turns out that random pages from the various chapters are randomly missing from the port, but never fear, I have back ups of them on an external drive that I can currently only access from G.’s computer.

But I began the process, and it’s been more than a year in the procrastinating, so that’s definitely a thing. Here’s where the bones currently lie.

It feels good to have begun something. I would like to eventually actually finish a project I’ve started. I always have good starting energy, and I’ll even keep it sustained for a number of months, but around 6-9 months in, I run out of steam or faith or interest, or something like that anyway, and it becomes yet another languisher in the internet equivalent of a desk drawer.

One of the things about publishing work publicly is that you get a bit invested in the feedback you’re getting. Or not getting. And the “not getting” seems to have been more usually the case for stuff I’ve made. I get way more traction with random silly jokes and pictures of my kids than I do with art. I don’t know if it’s just not interesting to people or they just don’t feel the need to comment, or maybe they’re not even seeing it mostly due to Facebook algorithms and the likes, and anyway it shouldn’t be what matters when you’re creating something but somehow it becomes a bit important.

A bit too important really. I’ve been turning over the idea of a Facebook break in my mind again. It’s mostly harmless – I tell myself anyway – but I still notice my muscle memory goes straight there the moment I open up my computer. I guess I’m searching for a bit of an endorphin hit or whatever it is that makes our brains addicted to these interactions. And then I get sucked into reading long discussions of things that aren’t really all that important.

I don’t find that other people’s lives are making me feel miserable or anything like that. The last time I left Facebook I think I’d a bit of that going on. We were neck-deep in fertility treatments and on the heels of a number of miscarriages and I just couldn’t enjoy seeing the updates that came in from people with kids, new babies or pregnancy announcements.

But I do find that it exacerbates my existing over-reliance on other people’s opinions of me. Hearts are better than thumbs. Comments better than both. It’s like some weird form of currency and each post that I make is like some kind of begging performance. It’s no wonder part of me feels bad about it.

But even as I write here, I find myself tempted to check and see if that last comment I made has resonated with anyone.

Anyway, like everything else that I’ve identified as potentially problematic, I’m going to shove it off for dealing with at a later date. That’s definitely a Future-Me problem. After all I’ve got higher priority issues to deal with in the immediate now.

Like the feelings of hate and anger. They felt a little lessened this morning, but it doesn’t take much to get them to spike back up again – all I have to do is take a look at the planning application site and see that label of “APPEALED” on our application and there it is again.

Last night I remade the decision that we need to get back to living in this house as though it’s our forever home, but I’m still not really feeling it just yet. We went viewing hob-tops yesterday and that’s something I’d usually be hugely excited about, but instead I just found myself left cold.

There’s really nothing for it except the application of time and distance. One will happen by itself, but the other I’ll need to actively work on. I’m back to where I was a few days ago; I’m giving myself permission to obsess until the details of the appeal are in and then I need to step the fuck away.

I hope I can do it.