What she said...

You know when you have an issue that bugs you, or an idea that you just can't encapsulate your thoughts on? It happens to me frequently, especially with my extended brain-fuzz. Last week there was that great post on bluemilk regarding maternal desire, this week it's Lauredhel at Hoyden About Town with ambient intimacy and assisted devices. Both captured an issue I've found a personal struggle, but have never been able to articulate with any degree of clarity.

In regards to Lauredhel's post, I couldn't agree more with her attitude to the internet as a social assistance tool. I have relationships which exist entirely online, some which were formed online but have developed into face-to-face relationships and some where I have meet someone in person only to have a relationship which continued (often flourished) online. I'm comfortable with the idea of the internet as a place where I can develop relationships. I have friends who are not. They see any/all online relationships as a form of internet dating. They don't see any space for 'real' connection. I don't doubt that for them, this is true. It would be very difficult for them to have relationships which were not face to face, because of their own communication styles or preconceptions. I do, as Lauredhel expresses so aptly, resent their assumption that my own online relationships are not 'real' or worthwhile.

Without the internet to connect me, I cannot imagine my current life. I'm very lucky with regards to my CFS at the moment. I'm going through a relatively positive patch; one where I am able to work intermittently, socialise occasionally, live daily with bearable aches and pains and have the oh-so-pleasant experience of my brain joining the party and offering clear thoughts at least some of the time. Golly gosh I'm also managing to have a relatively acceptable sleep pattern! To me, that's positively heaven. Even though I'm able to view all of that as positives, it is still with the basic acceptance that I am pretty much housebound much of the time.

I have to work from home, there is no possible way I could have a job outside my house. The transport alone would kill me. My social life is basically inside my house. I went to my sister-in-law's house for a BBQ yesterday and fell asleep on the couch in the middle of our family and friends mid-way through the day. That means so far I've fallen asleep when going to the movies with friends (and it wasn't boredom, trust me), halfway through a board-game, during Christmas lunch, between a wedding and the reception... the list goes on. If my idea of a social life (or social outlet) was what I could do in person, I'd be very lonely. And a very bad friend.

My online relationships are vital to my sanity. Through the internet I can chat to my not-really-geeky friends on facebook (even my relatives are on facebook now), my overseas friends via messaging and my industry related friends via twitter. That's just maintaining the relationships I already had from 'IRL'. These tools allow me to keep in the loop on the most mundane of things happening in my friend's lives. How many times have I seen a status update about some one's mood, or what they're doing the next day, and been able to chip in with a quick message? If it took a social occasion or phone call (which I find very draining and difficult to concentrate on), I'd miss so much. I can see photos of special occasions I had to miss, watch babies I barely get to see grow up or just maintain a casual relationship with a friend it's been hard to catch up with. It's informal and easy.

Then there are the communities I have joined or people I have met who keep me sane and offer a new social outlet. There are message boards, live blogging and most notably my twitterati. These are people I'm happy to have a relationship with completely online. If it develops in person, that's great, but it's not the aim, nor does it really even matter. As I spend the day at my desk, twittering away, I have the kind of people contact that others in office (or just able bodied) environments take for granted. I can discuss current affairs, what happened on television, the weather or politics. It doesn't have to be in-depth, but often a discussion will evolve into this, too. By blogging, or participating in a blogging/commenting environment, I can add my thoughts when my brain is willing to join me. I can read a post, put it aside and come back when I have the energy to contribute to the debate or conversation. I don't miss out because I can't keep up with all the people talking, as often happens when I'm having dinner with friends. The internet allows me to dip in and out when I can.

Key to all of this, is that my online relationships are almost always more manageable than face-to-face ones. I can 'hang out' with a friend, messaging backwards and forwards online, in my pyjamas. If I'm not up to contributing to the conversation, I can come back to it later. The flexibility of being able to socialise with people when I feel well and jump online, rather than making plans in the hopes that I will be okay at a mutually acceptable time at some point in the future, is invaluable. Then there are the people, like Lauredhel, who I know only as an online handle, who have helped me discover more about my own illness, or how to cope with it. Herself and others have made it so much easier to come to terms with this experience. It should have been no surprise to me that it would be via Hoyden, a predominantly feminist blog, that someone would manage to express how I feel about this social life I live online, which is no less vital than the life I have in the flesh.

I have so many contacts I know by a name they chose to display themselves by, whom I consider my connection with as vital as anyone I see in person. I consider my CFS, political, feminist, television-watching, media, gardening, sustainability and family mini social circles as a part of that. Each allows me a space to connect to others that I just can't reach face-to-face. Online I can play scrabble with a friend I haven't seen offline for three years, get expert advice on how to save my poor vegetables from this awful heat wave, chat about the inauguration of a president, compare notes on Big Brother, show my partner a piece of art I want to buy even though he's working interstate, discuss the state of our media landscape with someone I went to a conference with two years ago. Without the internet, none of this would happen on a daily basis. My communication with the world, at the moment, predominantly exists online. And I think that's great.