I Think I’m Doing Medium All Wrong
I could be wrong about being wrong, though.
When I first started writing full-time on Medium last month, I learned about Medium etiquette. The things you’re supposed to do as a Medium creator regarding other Medium creators. And I am pretty sure I’m doing it all wrong.
Since mid-May, I have gained over 200 followers on Medium. I think I am supposed to be following all those people, like Twitter. I don’t have time. Seriously, I don’t have time. My mother-in-law is 92, my stepmom has level 6 Alzheimer’s (and is getting worse by the day), we have a family member dealing with crippling depression, I haven’t seen my own granddaughter yet, my husband’s dental work isn’t covered by insurance, and our car is making a weird noise.
I’m also supposed to respond to every comment left on my essays/op-eds/articles whatever they’re called. Nope, can’t find the time to do that either. I try to give at least 20 claps to every comment, and that’s about all the energy I have.
I think I’m doing Medium all wrong, and I do not have the time or energy right now to do Medium correctly. I write most of my pieces around 11:00 at night, because thanks to my stress-induced insomnia, I’m still wide awake. By the time I’m finished, my brain is exhausted. My brain is exhausted most of the time lately. As of this sentence, Grammarly has growled at me at least 10 times. I keep forgetting how to spell, or what a comma is.
However, I have discovered the joy of writing again. I haven’t felt this in a very long time, and it is something pretty spectacular, even if I’m failing at Medium etiquette. This month, June, I’ve already earned almost $40, a few more people signed up for email alerts, and someone other than my dad (love you, Dad) joined Medium with my affiliate link. So I’m doing something right.
But I know I’m also doing some things wrong, and in an ideal world, I would be able to fix that. My husband and I haven’t taken an actual vacation in almost 10 years. We missed my son’s wedding. And again, my granddaughter was born last September, and I have never held her.
I’m not ignoring readers or followers, I promise. My stress level is an eleven, I don’t get a lot of sleep, and every time the phone rings, I have a mini panic attack. So please bear with me. Bare with me. No, it’s bear. Bare? Help.
I need a nap.
