I wrote 100 blog posts in 100 days and I don’t know what to feel (Or: I know you don’t give a fuck, but I do)
It’s been almost a month since the last post I wrote for this blog. I wrote 100 posts in 100 days and then vanished because I was absolutely fucking disgusted with myself for having forced daily writing for that long. Through this, I confirmed two very important things:
- Doing something every single day for that long is not sustainable
- Anything can be a blog post
When I finished the challenge—which, by the way, I set for myself just to prove I could write daily no matter what—I felt relieved. But it wasn’t the kind of relief that comes with a sense of accomplishment. It was just the relief of taking a heavy weight off my shoulders.
During the final weeks of the challenge, I felt genuine disdain for the idea of having to sit down and write a blog post. It repulsed me to feel obligated to do it, especially after a long-ass workday or coming back from some social commitment.
A lot of the posts were written at night, from the discomfort of my phone, tired and sleepy, well past midnight.
So yeah, I finished the challenge—but at what cost? And what was the fucking point?
My first thought was: “This was some dumb shit. There’s nothing special about it. Tons of people have done it before. Who the fuck cares.” So I even considered not mentioning that I had finished the challenge. That’s why I just walked away and took a break.
But then I realized it’s actually something worth celebrating. Because even though I ended up hating the idea of sitting down to write, the truth is that once I started writing, I genuinely enjoyed it.
At first, it was exciting. The novelty helped. It was fun thinking about what I’d write every day, and it felt really nice to get a toast or a message in the guestbook. But when exhaustion and boredom showed up, getting started—taking that first step—got hard again.
But I’m glad I forced myself. I’m glad that every day, even when I didn’t want to, I sat my ass in this chair or grabbed my phone before falling asleep—because I fucking love writing, and now I know I can do it even when I don’t feel like it.
And that matters to me.
And that alone makes it worth mentioning.
And because I don’t give a fuck if the BearBlog community doesn’t care.
Maybe someday I’ll write about the lessons this challenge taught me. For now, I can tell that blog-about-blogs fatigue is real. And honestly, good. Feels like bloggers don’t know how to write about anything other than writing blogs.
My advice? Don’t try to write for 100 days straight, because honestly—it’s not fun.
A publishing schedule of about 4 times a week seems smarter and more enriching. That gap between posts gives you space to write more thoughtful stuff. In the end, whoever’s reading you will appreciate it too.
That said, if you want to try it and you can, I also believe writing daily for 100 days taught me a lot. But like I said: more on that later, maybe.
Damn, I missed this! Feels like therapy, for real.
Thanks for reading.