7

You just kinda wasted my precious time

If you look at my home page under the ‘social’ heading there’s one lonely YouTube button. There used to be one for Twitter and up until yesterday one for Facebook. I’m leaving Facebook you see, we’re getting divorced. A decision that has been a long time coming but the time is finally right.

I went on holiday about two weeks ago, a short holiday of 3 nights away on the edge of the world in Donegal. Whilst we were there we had no internet access and it was WONDERFUL. I actually read books and went outside. I was measurably happier. For a long time after my TBI the internet and more specifically Facebook became an avoidance tactic for me. When I was too knackered and frightened to do anything I would endlessly swirl around in a circle on social media, logging in and out just to pass time. I knew that this habit was not healthy. Mentally healthy.  Don’t get me wrong, at times it served a purpose, I had my wonderful Uk and Ireland support group to keep me occupied and at times prop me up when I was descending into PTSD misery. That group is also continuing to do great things for people with brain injuries and will no doubt continue when I’m gone. It was hard to tell them I was leaving but all things must evolve, including me.

There became a point where Facebook was like sitting in a café, one I was familiar with but for some reason I visited it everyday even when I didn’t need to. Other people I knew were in the café, people I liked. For some reason though, they just sat there and randomly shouted things that were odd, things they wouldn’t usually say but in Facebook cafe things JUST HAD TO BE SAID. That’s my first issue with it, the need to speak, to say things, to write commentary on every little thing, anything, as long as it’s written down and responded to. I found myself thinking this is not how I converse with people I like. The weirdest thing though was the strangers, the strangers sat at other tables who interrupted my world with racist or sexist comments, jokes that weren’t funny, chicken littles who every day said the sky was falling in, advertisements of pages I had no interest in, angry (mostly) men who didn’t really know what they were saying but JUST HAD to rant. I spent a lot of time moving tables in the cafe, away from the ones I didn’t know, a lot of time putting in ear plugs and shutting my eyes but you know what? like a babies nappy full of poo, they just kept seeping through.

After those three days of Facebook peace  in Donegal, I asked myself just what on Earth I thought I was doing. There’s no way in real life I’d tolerate this amount of nonsense for so long. But Facebook is very clever, it convinces you that you NEED it. Other people drugged by it try to convince you that you NEED it. I convinced myself for a long time that I NEEDED it, ” it’s a useful networking tool blah blah blah” “how will I ever meet people otherwise blah blah blah” But here’s the funny thing, there was a world pre Facebook where I still managed to talk to people.

So this will be the last post of mine that you will see me pushing on Facebook. Some would argue I’m shooting myself in the foot by removing an audience and ready avenue of advertising for my blog. Here’s the crux of the issue, I simply don’t care. I don’t care about Facebook and I don’t care about being a mega successful blogger. As long as what I do helps people when it’s needed then it’s all good.

I’m free now and it feels FANTASTIC.