So. Social Media and I have been not getting along. You know, the usual issues - I have more than a slight addiction and it has become a problematic depressive mess. I’ve lost many an hour to scrolling and snarking and guilt. And no matter how much I scream, it’s still mean and hate filled and sad with an occasional cute puppy or feel good story. And that means my moods can and will and have been shifting on a single post or comment or fact – or alternative fact …
Aaaaaand just writing that raised my blood pressure and got my heart thumping out of whack…
So. I gave myself a Social Media vacation - with parameters. 1) I gave myself permission to post Facebook birthdays. Because, regardless of it’s many, many issues, having a Facebook birthday is a beautiful torrent of love and happiness. And 2) I would respond to Messages. Because some of my favorite people live in a different time zone and Messaging is better than a 5am text. Other than those two caveats, I was on a Social Media vacation.
I even stopped blogging because of the Social Media sucking in that happened after each post. And honestly, I really had nothing good to say. Or rather, I had some good things to say that would somehow morph into a rant that went something like “What the $%#$%#$ is/are he/she/they thinking?!?!?!?”
Which, you can guess, is not good for my wonky heart and PTSD dogs. See blood pressure comment above.
Hence, a Social Media vacation... which mostly worked… until, I joined Instagram.
I know – what??? Well, full confession, I joined Instagram to stalk someone who has apparently lost their freaking mind and was supposedly posting pictures of their stupid choices for all the world to see. Yeah, I know. I have an iffy moral compass. But seriously, this person has lost their mother-loving mind! Like they have - “What the hell is going on, girlfriend. Do I need to slap some sense into you” - LOST. THEIR. MIND.
Ironically, it turned out this person’s page was private and I couldn’t scroll through their pictures and posts and judge their life away. Damn it.
So. There I was with a new Social Media account when I wasn’t supposed to be looking at Social Media and a sudden influx of people following me. Not that I'd posted a thing. At one point, I had 66 followers on an Instagram page I’d started to stalk someone else. Ironic, right?
The pressure to make my first post witty and charming and poignant and deep grew. And grew. And grew. Meanwhile, the world was/is falling apart and people were/are mean and all this hate has made my world feel as unsafe as it was when I was a small mixed race child in an almost all black family attending almost all white school in Kenya. Suddenly a first post on a social media account wasn’t as important or deep as it seemed, as it should be…
And yet, our freaking world is being driven crazy by stupid Social Media posts right now – WHICH IS WHY I GOT OFF SOCIAL MEDIA IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!
ARG!!!!!!!! I thought I was off this stupid roller coaster but apparently I'm not.
So. I couldn’t come up with a single thing to say on my personal Instagram page so I created one for iamwhaleshark and just started posting pictures of a trees I made when I was trying to not listen to things that make my brain hurt. It’s not deep or life changing but there you go.
Life is sometimes the things you do while you’re trying not to cry. Or scream. Or runaway.
Inhale. Exhale. Whaleshark.
My name is ej. I'm a girl. I say that because with the short hair and the short initials, folks aren't always sure. More brilliant insights to who I am in About me