A delicate thing

Some excavation for you

The spring portal is weaving in and out, and so am I-in a variety of ways.

I do what feels best when I can, and the honesty of that is good for me. Along with this has come a real reckoning with social media, and its effect on my mental health, my interface with my reality, and the world.

In a seemingly eternal battle since my unfortunate entry into Facebook (now meta) many eras ago in college, I did a dance with these sites and in so doing a dance with relational truths, psychological awareness, and some of the darkest aspects of the psyche of humanity.

Facebook tortured me for quite some time. I was constantly struggling with feelings of being inadequate or not being where I should be compared to other people. But I was also allowing myself to be fed illusions of reality. It was easier to get sucked into fantasy, than to face the struggles of my real life.

All of those illusions made me feel as if I was behind, or failing, and the more I let the illusions effect me, the less productive I was.

The day I left Facebook was amazing. I had closed the account many times to no avail, but this time I knew it had to go. Right before my epic exit, a screen popped up.

“These friends will miss you if you go!” It told me, and there before me was a line of profile pictures of those potentially sad people- saying goodbye to me.

“It told me” as if the program knew my dearest friends, my deepest desires. The only thing is, the program was wrong. None of the people who popped up were close to me. They were acquaintances at best. My real friends called me many times a week. Texted me daily. Didn’t need facebook to remember my birthday.

The fog cleared and I left without any question in my mind.

Something is deeply disturbing in this age of the internet.

And I needed to not be a part of it.

I remember feeling lighter, and less encumbered, and I stayed off of social media for some time.

Until I let myself enter the world of instagram.

It was sufficiently different than facebook in that it felt more like an art community. But it soon became a similar charade, and I got sucked into it again for years. The visual allure of it, the magic of connection, the magic of presenting myself in the best light possible-I’ve loved the idea of it. I’ve loved the opportunities its helped me find. But it makes me sick, and I’m not exaggerating. It facilitates depression, darkness, and pain.

I finally came to the conclusion, many years later, to find a way to exit without completely exiting. As a now functioning art business, the phrase “I need this app” isn’t lost on me. It keeps me connected to my community and has helped more people see my work. But it also appeals to the part of me that is exhausted and burnt out, and sucks me in to a neverending loop of voyeurism, violent imagery, buying things, and cute animals (the cute animals can stay). Needless to say, its in many ways made me feel like I am losing my mind.

Last month I purchased an app that limits my time to 30 minutes a day at most and closes instagram after my time is up. It dims the instagram logo too. Since minimizing my time, its like a fog has lifted. I’ve finished a few books. Watched movies with my full attention. Engaged in other meaningful activities, and and felt calmer.

Easy fix right? Kind of. If I didn’t feel as if my brain has been sort of hijacked, and now I am in the process of undoing it. I’m not happy at how much time I’ve wasted.

Maybe for some people the addictive nature of this app isn’t as strong. But for some, who are prone to mental battles, it can be a quick and strange trip to hell. I’ve never seen myself as having an addictive personality until social media- I would find myself deep into scrolling and not remembering getting there. I do not have notifications turned on, and I even buried the app deep into a folder on my phone. I would hear some voice in my head screaming at me to get off. And still, I would scroll for hours.

The new timer which gives me 10 minutes has alerted me to a strange time suck fact; 10 minutes on instagram feels like 1 second.

In the truly relieving void of not being in the matrix of instagram, I have instead been educating myself on the psychology of social media and what experts are saying it is doing to our brains. I am grateful to not be a digital native; that I have not been raised in this culture, because what I have been learning truly terrifies me, and it is significantly less difficult to heal for someone who hasn’t been sucked in since childhood. To add to this, the creators of these apps knew this was the case. They knew, they know, and they have said it out loud.

I am not writing this to necessarily suggest that everyone should do what I did, However, I do think there is a cult of sorts that has been created and somehow we as a society have joined. Many artists I know try to find other platforms, but instagram, because of its free membership, keeps us all there, wild eyed and watching as wars, death, and cheap pants are “sold to us” on a loop of insanity.

I want something different. I demand a different reality.

In making that demand, I've found my slower pace and a way to deal with my own life that I really already knew. Whenever I do go on briefly to post art, I am relieved when my 10 minutes are up.

I believe in making change in the circle I can influence. Call politicians, vote. Seek the truth through other sources and find out how to effect change.

Read what people write. Call friends. Have a real conversation.

Don’t share that thing you did on social media. Call someone and tell them about it.

I believe in authentic relationships built on conversations and listening.

Keep your private most intimate moments to yourself and your close friends. Why are we sharing this stuff with the world?

I reject synthetic synapses manipulating us into broadcasted realities and directing me to broadcast my life. I’m old enough to know.

I don’t care at all about what anyone thinks about me anymore. And if you don’t actually know me, you don’t get to see my inner private life. Thats for me.

This spring is about reading, growing, and rejecting that which allows me to lie to myself, numb my soul, and isolate my heart.

I want to exist. In real life.

I expect to fail and not always fulfill this standard. But as with everything, we all have to start somewhere.

Here’s to new social media platforms that heal us

Here’s to a wide eyed and wonder filled future.

xo

pixie

Resources:

Social Media Addiction-How it Changes Your Brain

How Your Brain is Getting Hacked

States Suing Meta Article