Facebook Failed to Deactivate My Account, So I Reactivated My Sanity
I tried to deactivate my Facebook account some weeks ago because I don’t really like Facebook.
I like the concept of being able to keep in touch with the people you care about — especially if they’re thousands of miles away.
I also think it’s cool that you can reconnect with the person who made a difference in your life way back when before disappearing without a trace.
And of course the support you get when you post about having a bad day or if you’re in dire need of guidance — is always an added bonus.
Birthdays, memories, and reminders to highlight unbreakable bonds — are also logical reasons to keep liking, sharing, commenting and reacting.
This period of bliss lasted about two years.
After that — it catapulted into a tedious exercise in reformed stamina and acceptability.
I was forced to comprehend that the lives of my friends seemed to be flowing without any currents while mine kept stalling with the ebb and flow of things.
Of course you’re elated when good things happen to those you like. But when it appears to be happening in excess compared to yours — there is a tendency to subconsciously feel sorry for yourself.
That’s not a good feeling.
Also — my insecurities were converting me into someone I didn’t want to be.
A pathetic wannabe who can’t wait to share bits of news that will magically elevate my stagnant status. Even for a day.
And the shit I post is whack as hell.
Like that time I announced on my timeline that The Huffington Post reached out to me via Twitter to ask for a piece that they found on Medium that was apparently quite popular.
It was my first time of being poached by HuffPost and the one positive thing I could boast about — after months of silence.
And so I did.
Yes, my post received congratulatory attention, but instead of feeling validated — I felt even more like a loser.
It is isn’t exactly amazing news to have a viral piece reposted on a platform that is already crowded with more suckers like you — that depend on a brand for a temporary boost.
After that episode — I examined my Facebook page and realized how much it reflected my bipolar tendencies.
More than half the people I gave permission to pester me daily — are having conversations with everyone else — excerpt me.
My timeline had become this uneven space that demonstrates my inability to grasp the fundamentals of socializing with the aid of clicks and swipes.
It dawned on me that I’m actually more likable in person.
I enjoy sharing my space with old or new friends when they are physically around or streaming their voice through a device called a phone.
Not hovering over a keyboard.
The energy that connects us as we talk, laugh, cry or argue — can’t be duplicated in text messages or an overly long post.
That’s why online dating was a total disaster. I am guarded when it comes to connecting with anyone — through the tools of unreason.
Yes — we are exchanging comments, recommendations, and expressing admiration while encouraging each other.
But no matter how many times or how long we began our online trysts — I still don’t know you. At all.
I’ve never met you.
I have no idea who you are and I’m not going to pretend I do or believe that I do in order to match your assumption that we are friends.
We are not friends. Yet.
However — the ones who are my friends have become strangers almost. It’s not anyone’s fault. Or maybe it’s mine.
Facebook is a maddening landscape that can be likened to a popular block in your neighborhood that is always poppin all day everyday.
You’re not up for all that action so you try to stay away and then visit every now and again.
But when you try to get back in — you realize that you’re even more lost and out of place.
You just can’t win.
I tried to deactivate my account but somehow there was a snag and when my birthday rolled around — I got the choreographed well wishes.
It was nice to see my my page filled with love and proof of my existence. But of course that only lasts for the day. And then it’s back to business as usual.
In my case — it’s not back to the norm but rather a revised application of what social media means to me.
It means nothing.
I don’t take selfies every time I get my hair done. I don’t agonize over which photo to use as my avatar. I don’t enjoy plotting ways to keep up with friends who are wildly enjoying their current disposition in the form of vibrant imagery and well crafted captions. And I don’t and won’t feel bad about the fact that fostering new and old relationships through the overtly dramatic tunnels of the web — isn’t really my thing.
I prefer human contact and even though I promise to stop being a crybaby and play along — my efforts will remain cautious and borderline weird.
I am never myself when given to experiments that evolve into a lifestyle.
I’m finally okay with that, which is why I could care less about the health of my Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.
Deactivating won’t change a thing and nobody gives a fuck anyway.
That’s the best aspect of what we’ve become since being liked overtook our need to be loved.
Nobody actually cares because they are way too busy enjoying the privilege of being fussed over by strangers — while finding new ways to adore themselves even more.
I will reserve my best self for the ones who seek and deserve it. In the meantime — I will continue to play the game whenever the mood hits.
So — thank you Facebook for failing to grant my wish because I got a better deal out of it.
I reactivated my sanity. The rest is just clicks away.