A psychiatrist once told me, “Statistically speaking, you should be dead.” A long time ago, after suffering a multitude of tragedies, I went to see a psychiatrist on the advice of a friend who felt I was too happy, and thus, there must be something wrong with me.
I didn’t quite know how to take what that psychiatrist had to say to me, or what my friend had to say. I dismissed them, but agreed to go into therapy. I stayed in that therapy with that same therapist from the age of 19 to the age of 36, when I got divorced and moved to Florida.
He was an old man, this therapist, even when we first met, and reminded me of my grandfather. He served as a sounding board, a sort of third party perspective. He studied Tibetan Buddhism, and used to talk to me in parables and stories, hoping I would gain some insight. He never gave advice.
We didn’t reveal any deep, dark, suppressed secrets, or make any startling revelations about my life, except for one. Since my childhood, I have always had a tendency to focus on the good things, the happy times, the joys in my life, rather than the sorrows.
When I decided to get divorced, all he said was, “What in the hell took you so very long?” I told him how I had wanted my children to stay together (unlike my sisters and I) and not be separated or have to deal with step siblings or step parents. I moved to Florida, and received a package in the mail from my therapist. It was three books on Tibetan Buddhism. He died on the day he sent me that package, (noted by the postmark on the package). I discovered this when I called his office to thank him. I cried.
Well, I am telling you this little story to tell you about statistics and why they are virtually meaningless to me. I don’t look at my stats very often. In fact, only twice since I began blogging in April, 2013.
It is far more important to me to build relationships with real people online than to make the numbers gleam.
I had a post about, “Making Your Gravatar Work for You.” It took about five minutes to make that post. It is my second most viewed (120) and clicked on post of all times. 58 people have “liked” it. That’s great! It was meant to be helpful. (Second only to my nudism post, “Uninhibited?”, which people might just be curious about. [131 views and only 32 likes].)
I made a post a couple of days ago about my “WIP: I Need Help Concerning Nicknames”. It didn’t get reblogged. It only had 40 views, only 13 people “liked” it, and yet it is one of the most meaningful posts I have ever created. It wasn’t done on a whim, like the gravater post that I made in 5 mins, simply because I was annoyed, (that post had many comments expressing gratitude BTW). It wasn’t a post that took me hours to prepare with many uploaded, captioned photos, like some of my feature posts.
It was a post wherein we were engaged in meaningful dialog, where people discussed the use of nicknames, their preferences as both readers and writers, how to write nicknames into a literary work, and the creative process of writing. Now don’t get me wrong. I love it when you “like” my posts, whether you comment or not. That is great. It means maybe you actually read it and enjoyed it, and that is a large part of what I am here for.
I was, a couple of days ago, really in a serious mini-crisis that I could not get out of alone. It was causing writer’s block, and no therapist could have resolved that crisis. I just want to say that you, the people who engage me in comments with your meaningful contributions, well, you just make my world go around in this place called the blogosphere. I am writing again, excited to be doing it. I am motivated and having fun. Thank you.
The stats really don’t matter. The people do.
Interesting stats for my stat junky friends:
(These will open in a new page, so you won’t lose your wordpress connection.)