Tag: friends

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Social Media

I don’t have social media.

If you would have asked me a month ago why I didn’t have social media, I would tell you it’s because I think it is destroying the world. I think it is torturing young minds and creating a constant comparison scenario between “friends” unconsciously. I would say it is hurting relationships and creating jealousy where jealousy need not be. It is promoting actions “online” that should have never happened. It is giving people false senses of gratification.

I would tell you Facebook owns Instagram, and everything you post is being analyzed and sold, so that your online advertising is targeted for you to consume more. More. Social media is making you want more. Buy more. Be more. I would tell you social media has turned people into products. Products that are being sold. Advertising once used words, images, films to promote sales… now we use people. An influencer is a product, and a product that is being bought over and over again. I would tell you social media has created more evil than good. I still believe those things and as I type that fiercely now, I stand by all of that.

But…

I also know the real reason I stopped doing social media is because it hurt me. I have also hurt others by it. I had a dream last night, that reminded me how I had once hurt people with social media. My ex boyfriend in high school started dating someone that was my friend (but his first) when I started college. They were both in my dream, and I remembered what I had done after I found out (via social media) about the two of them. I had started posting mean things on facebook about her. I was slanderous towards her, because I was so hurt. I turned my group of friends against her and we would post things about her in our group page. I would post pictures I had with her with sarcastic captions. 

Now flash to this year when I deleted it on January 2nd, 2019. I had already created a very good habit (I think) to go on only once a week. It is the day after New Years, in which I spent ALONE trying to gather my solitary self and just be OKAY. I had recently been demoted from my corporate job and was working at this shitty ass motel. I went on good ol’ instagram. First post, one of the person that I loved in college with his new girlfriend. The next one, the guy that I had lost months before with his new girlfriend. Something inside of me re-broke into many, many, many pieces. It really hurt me this time. It really hurt me. These pictures, broke me at a time when I really needed support or a hand to hold.

This hurt me enough to delete all of it. I decided enough is enough for me. I decided it wasn’t worth having anymore. I wasn’t giving much to it anyways, and it certainly was not giving to me. Looking back now, do I think it was irrational? Maybe. I still think it was right though. For me, it was right. Eventually I would have come to this conclusion. Each time I would gorge my time on social media, I felt something in my gut like what I was doing was wrong. It certainly was a time consumer. Not to mention all these images going through my brain as fast as they were, is that healthy? Is my brain equipped for all of this?

It wasn’t fair that I had to see what I didn’t have anymore. I was in an unhealthy place mentally, yes. I was very sad and hurt already, yes. Did those pictures and memories for someone else need to be in my face though? In my moment of weakness, did I also need to see that? I don’t want to hurt people and I don’t want them to hurt me with something like social media. I don’t think anyone that has “hurt” me on social media has done it intentionally either. If we all got a little more mindful though, maybe we’d see that our “sharing” could be hurting someone somewhere.

Maybe I think too deeply and feel a lot and then I put it in these words, but I know a deeper part of everyone feels this way too. I know it. I wanted to be honest about why I don’t have social media. It is because it hurt the hell out of me. 

If it has hurt you too or if you’ve hurt people, it is possible to live a life without it. And it’s a deeper life, because social media lives in the shallow. Just because the world says this is what you do now, that does not mean that that is what you have to do. We all live in this world and social media is a choice like anything else. You decide what is best for you. 

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Going Home

I suppose you can say I am going through a “pre-quarter” life crisis right now. This is a term I have tokened for my early twenties blues. This whole job-seeking thing post graduation has been kicking my ass, and all I seem to do lately is complain. I envision what I want in life, and I compare it to my reality. Much to my despair, I am worlds apart from my goals. I find myself stuck in a rut, and the voices in my head become too loud to hush. Then, something changes. There are times when life is passing day-by-day staying seemingly the same, and all we are waiting for is the next best thing to come along. A raise, a vacation, a relationship.

Until something changes… I wake up lying on the couch after falling asleep the night before on the couch. It is 7:00 am and the sun is glaring on my face and I feel an uncomfortable knot in the pit of my stomach. I’m not exactly sure what it is. It is probably just a feeling I get after a weird dream.

Ignore it.

I try to go back to sleep and soak up those last sacred seconds I have before I am to pick myself up and enter the world as a civilized adult.

It doesn’t work, something isn’t right.

Within minutes I get a call from my mom. The phone rings and I pick up on the second tone. She tells me a close family friend of ours had died that morning. What was unsettling is that we had just seen him two weeks prior. His daughter had just gotten married. We just saw him. He was just here. Living, breathing, hugging, cussing. I quickly snap out of my lethargic state and get ready to go. My mom and I are leaving in an hour to drive back “home”. Home is about five hours away. We pack our things and before I know it we are on the road. It is 8:30AM.

Not what I am expecting for what was supposed to be a “normal” morning in my standard day by day life.

Driving into town, I see the cunning skyline of the Las Vegas strip approaching. I feel the nostalgia as I pass by the old hotel I used to work at. I feel the dry, crisp air touch my face and bring about a whirlwind of familiarity. We drive straight to our friend’s house to be with the family.

We hold. We hug. We cry. We remember.

The most unsettling realization is that it takes significant life events, such as this one, for me to finally open my eyes. All of a sudden, in an instant all of the setbacks that seemed so important in life become trivial, practically transparent. Working those long hours becomes unimportant, that scratch we have to fix on our car doesn’t matter, and the stress of doing anything “on time” evaporates.

What truly matters is only real when something life-altering occurs. When something happens that shows us how delicate life is and how small our problems are. We get so caught up on worrying about the past, future, and how to control our present to what we think it is supposed to be. It’s an odd realization when an event occurs that disrupts casual everyday life.

Instead of my day’s to do list, I see my childhood friend who has just lost her father. I see her brother who will never hold his dad again. I see a wife who has just watched the love of her life die in her arms. And everything suddenly becomes clear. Time stands still to me. Despite the causality, love is still present, and relationships are still strong as ever.

We joke, we play, and we reminisce. We learn for that moment to not take life for granted, but instead to take it as a gift we are given every day. Clearly this is not a viewpoint any emotional human being can maintain. But in that instant, we are free.

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My visit back home brings me back to every feeling and every emotion I’ve experienced in my past. I feel the same. I am older, but still the same. Going home makes me feel like I have left something there; a piece of my heart. Surrounding myself with all of these beautiful people reminds me of what a beautiful life I have had in the past, and what a beautiful life I still have. It brings me back to the relationships that have been formed, the love that has been shared, and the sensation of sincerity and innocence that childhood brings. I frequently see those childhood notions washing away, being replaced with cynicism and fear in adulthood.

The feelings I have from coming back home leave me confused, but also grateful. I came back home and it was warm, hopeful, and sad all at once. I allow myself to feel all of these things and be grateful for every burst of emotion. There is always a piece of home embedded in me, and in all of us, and it’s easy to forget that in the seemingly hard struggles of everyday life. The unfortunate truth is that for most of us, it takes a tragic event to realize how good we actually have it, but I guess that’s just how it is.

This adult life doesn’t come with instructions, nor does it say it will be easy. It just allows us changes and choices. It allows us the opportunity to grow older and create our own realities. I am learning to embrace the uncertainty and understand that I can always go “home”.
Home is inside me. It’s inside all of us.

R.I.P Paul. You were always the first one to put me in place. I know you’re still here. Thanks for bringing me home.