does blogging keep one sane?

does blogging keep one sane? does the act of writing bring you back to your true self? what happens when you find your true self and it's actually several "selfs" and you are trying to simply integrate them into one only to find that it's not possible? and i want to keep writing to keep myself sane, and at the same time i want to not write anymore at all. yes, friends, it's a soul-baring moment here. what happens when the soul is bare? besides it being a wee bit chilly, it's not incredibly enlightening, i've found. it's disheartening, a break from the illusion of who you think you are and you realize that we are all just ... sinking. sinking under the weight of these lives we lead, hoping that maybe, like virginia woolf or van gogh, some form of greatness will seep out of our misery and despair and mania and there will be great beauty that comes from great pain. but i know that people like that -- the ones who we all remember to be these tragic but creative giants are in the minority. the rest of us -- the mediocre, jacks of all trades but masters of none, we just suffer and nothing comes from it. except the hope that maybe tomorrow if i feel melancholy, i won't feel like i have a broken heart, that i'm being crushed from the inside. maybe i'll just feel melancholy and that will be it.