Twitter didn’t give me the flu or bronchitis, but it made me sick. Unhealthy. Ill-feeling. And it could have been any social media platform that did it, I just happened to have chosen Twitter.
For years I avoided creating any sort of social media account. I complained to companies the old-fashioned way: calling or emailing customer service. I didn’t need to know what people I wasn’t in touch with in real life were doing.
As someone who was married and not dating, there simply wasn’t the requirement to be on any kind of social media. With two kids, I spent my (little) free time watching TV or texting with a few friends. I would proudly state, “I don’t even have Facebook” when people discussed it.
Then in January 2018, I decided to open a Twitter account, mostly to rant about things, as I had done a few years prior on a blog. Not big-issue political rants or anything, more “Why isn’t the first car on an advanced green turning?? YOU HAVE A RESPONSIBILITY, MAN” type stuff.
I had conveniently blocked from memory the reason I had stopped blogging about all my anger-inducing experiences: I had felt like it was poisoning me. To always be posting something negative, it builds over time. As much as I liked expressing my anger, I didn’t like the feeling it created.
Fast forward to the beginning of 2018 and I have a Twitter account. All fine and dandy for a bit: I build a little network of like-minded parent Twitter accounts, we follow the same accounts, and it’s fun to see people living the same type of kid-related dramz as I was.
Then I realize that with Twitter, I have access to breaking news way faster than say, my husband (a complete non-social media user). So that’s fun. Then I realize I have easy access to celebrities—wow! Now I can communicate directly with them! And businesses! To celebrate or chastise them! Fun! Then I’m excited when I gain followers. Cool! But some are random accounts who I don’t ever see post anything, or weird corporations. Okay… still fun?
Then I interact a few times with some celebrities. That goes to my head quickly—now I assume every tweet I send will result in some retweet or like by them. But no, it doesn’t. “Well, that’s crappy,” I think on more than one occasion, when I obsessively check my account to see if they liked what I wrote.
I see parenting-related tweets by other users who gain hundreds or thousands of likes for some inane comment, and I think “But that’s not even funny or very observant.” I develop a never-ending circle of thought in my head, consumed by potential tweets.
I start to feel what many people before me have felt: the highs and lows of social media. When it’s good, it’s good—your self-esteem is high, you’re feeling well liked, and well received. And when it’s low, it sucks.
“Why didn’t anyone agree with what I said?” I would question. “How come my tweets don’t garner that much attention?” It started to become too much. I was turning into someone I had never thought I would be: feeling validated by the number of likes I got.
Soon, it became obsessive. I was checking when I woke up (my phone having never been beside me at night), considering checking in the middle of the night when I woke up, checking while driving (something I had shamed people for doing previously), being logged in all day while at work. It was all day every day. I had become consumed.
And it wasn’t lucrative; I had 200-ish followers and maybe 20 I actually interacted with. It had quickly turned from something “neat” into something destructive. Everything I was living I was thinking could be a potential tweet. Which meant in turn, while I was physically there, I wasn’t really present in my actual life.
Along with parenting woes, I used Twitter to talk about my sobriety. I found it to be an awesome support network for the ups and downs and also to help others.
Over the past year of sobriety, I, like many others in the same situation, have connected much more with myself, learning who I am more in the past year than ever in my whole life. I recognize when I am feeling sad, toxic, anger, jealous. I feel everything now. And so when I started to feel weird with Twitter, I didn’t ignore it. I looked at what was happening.
And I realized it: as I now know, I have an addictive personality. I had become addicted and consumed by Twitter. It was now controlling my day. From wake up, to work, to driving, to watching TV, I was one tap away from seeing “what’s happening.” With strangers. And not actually paying attention to what I was living.
Instead of living what was happening, I was typing it, sharing it, obsessing over who saw it and interacted with me. Instead of alcohol, I was now consumed by Twitter.
So last week, I promised myself I would stop tweeting, stop checking it, and back away. Unfortunately you can’t hide your account. Either you have it and you just don’t use it, or you deactivate.
This weekend I looked at it here and there to see if I had any likes or DMs. To get a sense of what I was missing. I had a few likes from some tweets posted last week, oddly enough a number of new followers (even after doing nothing for days, which is so bizarre)—nothing earth shattering. I didn’t scroll through at all, and I didn’t engage with anyone.
And I realized: Nothing in my life actually changes if I am “connected.” In fact, I realized that being “connected” actually made me feel more isolated than ever. I was relying on something very independent to feel part of something. When in reality, it was very secluded.
I found it serves as a distraction and delivers information that just makes me angry or depressed. And there’s already enough of that in life. I am quite happy to go back to using reality TV to unwind and let my sister being my sounding board for my road rage.
I will give it another day or so and I will deactivate it completely. And luckily, goodbyes are not necessary. A nice clean break. I will miss some elements of it, but I know myself enough to know I cannot keep it. Like trying to moderate alcohol, it’s too much of a slippery slope.
Though I run this site, it is not mine. It's ours. It's not about me. It's about us. Your stories and your wisdom are just as meaningful as mine.
Thank you for this story! I am a millennial, so stereotypically I should be very much into social media. I honestly only ever really had a Facebook account during college and then afterwards. I never saw much point in having a Twitter or Instagram account and never used my Pinterest account.
A couple of years ago, I decided to get off of Facebook both due to privacy reasons and for my mental health. I have Complex PTSD, and I found that having just a Facebook account usually left me feeling pretty depressed. I would compare myself to others and the “shoulds” would come up. Even though there were good support groups, it wasn’t worth it for what I experienced mentally, so I deleted my account.
I haven’t looked back since I deleted it. I can check a couple of Facebook and Instagram links that I like without an account. My mood doesn’t vary so sharply now, and my stress levels are lower. I have a LinkedIn account that I need to manage my company’s page, but that is all. Despite managing my company’s social media accounts, I have no inclination to get back on any social media-having to do so for work is enough. Staying off keeps me level and more present to my life around me.
You have done a wonderful thing for yourself and it won’t take long for you to see and feel it!
I was a bit like you in that I only had one social media account but mine was facebook. We were living overseas when I first joined and I thought it was a great way to stay in touch. At first it was until it wasn’t so great anymore. It stopped being about sharing pictures and keeping in touch and became more about manufacturing a “image” that was social media worthy. I started to realize that I didn’t like how I felt when I would log on and although I thought about deactivating, I still kept my account. Everything changed when my Father came to live with us during the last months of his life. Caring for him was one of the most beautiful and difficult experiences I’ve ever had. He was dying here with us in our home and my life revolved around him and what he /we were going through every single day.
After a long day late one night I decided to check my account as I had not been on in a while. I was stunned by some of my “friends” comments and even a few messages. A few people had tagged me or posted something on my page and were now annoyed at me because I hadn’t liked or commented on their pictures. Seriously?? They knew what was happening here and yet somehow their virtual ego trumped the actual life experience we were having with my Dad. That’s when I knew it was time to go. That was 4 years ago and it was the best thing I could have done. If people matter in your life, it does not take social media to stay in touch. Our society has been lulled into believing that we need social media to live and be happy and quite frankly, it’s just the opposite. Good for you for taking that step!
Thanks for writing about this anonymous. I’m working on developing two online business of a creative nature. The social media is something I have to do but I do not like to do. I started to notice the highs and lows you’re talking about. It totally affected me and I didn’t like that it did. As of now, I need to keep a social media presence but I am committed to keeping it as a tool and not getting caught up in how many followers or likes I got. If those numbers reveal insight to me in my business, that’s good, but if not then it needs to be just let go. We need to remember and know that Life is being here now, in real life, right? Social media is a huge distraction, isn’t it? Life is already so full of everything, why are we letting the social media take over our lives? It’s very good for even someone like myself (not addictive, at least I don’t think, but a wee obsessive) to place limits on how much I am on it. Anyway, thank you for sharing your story. I think it needs to be more discussed.
Good on you! Take care of you. Love yourself. Treat yourself with the most love.