Grabbing my backpack to go through the door to get the bus to Nicaragua, I walked away from this place called Facebook where I felt pressure to be less me, a version certified by a thumbs up. In a bid to decrease the sources of anxiety in my life this was an easy decision. Thing is…you try to leave and that’s when you see that, like a good drug dealer, they’ve got a strategy to keep you coming back. I started to get notifications about my pages.
Justifying my Addiction
It’s a Backup of a Backup
My conviction is strong enough, but I can’t delete it…yet. Knowing my modern history is there is a comfort, as a backup of a backup of a backup. (Another technique to get you).
It’s also the easiest way to contact a lot of people at the same time.
I’ve not been tempted to post. Without doing so, I still hardly have the time to focus on the things I want. I’ve kept Messenger to maintain contact with friends and adjusted my Facebook settings to stop them sending me emails altogether.
A lot of information out there is on Facebook pages
After having to keep unblocking the page in my Chrome settings, I’ve left it unblocked but the app has not been on my phone for donkey years.
Initially, as reducing my consumption came at a time I would post most-during a trip – I’d have an experience and think about a witty caption for a photo post then deflate when I remembered I wouldn’t be posting.
Leaving may seem like an affront to those who stay
When I returned after my last fist in the air, it was as if I’d stayed back a year and had to start the same material all over again with new classmates…although they were mostly the same classmates.
I suspected I was being punished by Facebook’s algorithm for my absence or that there’s one specifically for those who leave to make them fight to prove how much they want to be back in the Kingdom.
It’s too Addictive for me to use as a Tool
I understand that there are those who can use it as a tool, those who have more self-discipline than me, those who have chosen this as their outlet for their downtime, those who never consider what they could do with the time they spend on social media…but it was designed to be addictive.
“It is freaking virtual networking,” a good friend said, to which I responded:
“It feels like a bastardisation of who I am. I’d need to pay someone to represent me online. There’s an illusion that this is something we need, when Facebook is using us for profit by helping to keep us distracted, pretending to be friends. The frenetic energy that goes into maintaining a Facebook page stresses me. I feel it in my body. I want to be away from it (my body when possessed by Facebook).”
The constant notifications, the green graphs, the red graphs, the appeals because a post “is doing better than 70% of your other posts”; having it publicised how quickly you respond to messages! You can’t take a shit without your phone because somebody is responding in 2 minutes! They’re the standard! (What do you mean I’m the only person in the world who takes a shit without their phone?)
Don’t want it badly enough
Facebook: “Sure you don’t…want me.”
I don’t want a market badly enough to modify myself to fit expectations, hopes nor dreams! I’m just trying daily to fill more completely my own boundaries and whoever is attracted to that can take off something and let’s see which line of clothes is the longest. All the people pleasing is just a catalyst for increasingly pompous people. I don’t want to network with them.
To hell with monetising a blog too! If you’re going to tell me what I can write about and if I can use rashole curse words!
(Photo copied from http://wallpaperswide.com/soap_bubble_bursting_bokeh-wallpapers.html)
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