Logged out

You won't believe it, but I'm finally off Facebook.  It's been a month now so that's long enough to reconsider, but I'm committed. I'd been toying with the idea of abandoning the social network for a while and finally did a little personal experiment.  I'd been noticing for a few months that, even though I logged on frequently (when I say "frequently" you need to hear "with an astonishing and annoying regularity"), I wasn't seeing much new.  What I was seeing was a lot of nasty comments about how other people don't do parenting or politics the right way.  I saw lots of people trying to convince me they're happy in their lives and marriages. And lots of cat pictures. Once I noticed that trend of people pleading for acceptance and approval it was hard to UNnotice it if you know what I mean. The only thing that might have salvaged my participation was that the cats were sometimes kinda funny. My experiment involved just watching to see if I could find something original and engaging each day.

When I finally joined Facebook (and more than one person commented that the apocalypse must be at hand when they found me there) I felt I had joined this gleeful floating raft of happy well wishing old and new friends who all shared the same quirky sense of humor as me.  I imagined that we'd spend our time thinking of even more ways to bring a little laughter to our prospective days.  You know that is not at all how it turned out. It didn't take long in my experiment to see that shine was gone.

Instead, and I can't say exactly when, the platform became a way for some of my friends (who gasp! are not all really friends so much as people I kinda knew) to abuse one another politically, personally, religiously in the name of free speech. The many, many reposts of articles about parenting that weren't in the least bit supportive of young families, but instead offered up judgement and criticism all in the name of God made me wonder if I'd misunderstood our relationships.  I'm raising a wonderful child and even I felt like my parenting would be criticized from reading some of the reposted articles just swimming in double standards on Facebook.  You know sarcasm and dark humor have no better fan than me, but you can add to the list of things that I don't find at all funny racism, gay bashing and photoshopping of any political candidate.  Oh, and slut shaming.

The funny I found at first became obscured by the real venom that came behind it and while initially we all seemed to be on our best behavior, somehow I could no longer find much input that I could call positive or laughable or enlightening.  Worse, I wasn't seeing much original content - just reposts. More than once I arranged what I could see and what people can see about me. I've blocked and hidden and all of that, but I still couldn't find the excitement I'd found when I didn't know everyone quite so well.  I feel like a lot of these folks had opened their robes and flashed me so before I knew it, I was censoring what I was willing to share and I don't like worrying about what my "friends" will think so much.  Because I'm an empathetic person, I found myself constantly wondering about people after cringe-worthy, attention-seeking posts, "Lord, what is it you're asking from the world here? And is it possible to even get what you want from a bunch of not-really-friends? And am I supposed to give it by clicking the thumbs up button?"

And then I remembered that all I have to do is stop looking. Stop looking and all that negativity that sticks to an empath like me no longer carries any weight in my day.  I'd forgotten the option of leaving the party early.  I was worried, though, that I'd miss something if I left. When I answered the questions, "What would happen if I didn't see your toes-in-the-sand picture?" and, "What would happen if I didn't seek approval from people I hardly know with my own comments,  shares and pictures?"  The truth is, nothing would happen. Nothing at all except I might be able to breathe a little. So, I deactivated.

The thing is, it's not really a complaint I have about Facebook that caused me to end it.  I may even go back when I need a cat picture or when I want to see how someone's cousin's kid is doing in baseball.  The truth of Facebook is the same truth of ALL groups of people and that's where I've always had problems.  When you really get to know people, most of them you wish you didn't have to spend time with and the few you deeply care for turn up in lots of other ways.  The attention seeking ones that bug you at the office are the same ones waving flags of vague statements in your newsfeed that begin with "Some people really need to..." and the people posting pictures of their perfect vacations with their perfect spouses are still just right next door trying to forget the money problems and the affairs that everyone in town already knows about anyway. Knowing that all the softly focused selfies from women over 40 took about an hour to stage makes me sad.  Really, nothing is that different than it would be if I gathered all 652 friends and had a reunion with them.  And I wouldn't do that because it would be horrible - almost as horrible as checking in with them multiple times a day at stop lights and finding nothing of value. I don't even like parties.

For the first 10 days I thought I might be missing something important so I'd reactivate the account just to check but the same stomach knotting comments were there and not much else and that helped confirm my decision. So I'm free. I've been liberated from being desensitized by pictures of sunsets and half empty glasses of wine. I was kinda bored at first, but now I'm free to have real friendships with real people who want to speak the truth about their marriages and their children. I'm free from watching the same bad theology article reposted over and over by people I thought were smarter and free from wondering how getting enough "likes" translates into someone finally getting a kidney. Just as importantly, I'm free from exposing myself to an assessment of my worth by people who don't really know me.  I'm not telling you to do it.  I'm not condemning you for enjoying the party. I'm just telling you to email me or call me if something big happens.