A bit ago I posted a status on Facebook that created a little bit of a stir. I posted it in response to those studies that were saying Facebook was bad for your mental, and possibly physical, health because people tend to post only positive things which makes those sitting at home on their couches watching Judge Judy and eating a pint of ice cream (as you do) feel bad about themselves.
It went something like - okay, exactly like - this:
In response to my earlier post about everyone putting only good things on
FB (see my previous post about FB now being called hazardous to your
health), here's my reality check: Most days I like my life, but I
wouldn't say I love it. Some days - more and more lately - I hate
living in NYC. I'm grateful for my family, friends, good health and the
many experiences and adventures I've had. I can't
believe I'm 41 and still single. I'm worried I'll never have kids. I
work too much, sometimes, I think, to avoid being lonely. The person I
see the most, aside from my coworkers, is my acupuncturist, who, in some
ways, is a paid friend that I can't afford. I live in a small, dark
NYC apartment with no washer and dryer and a cat that likes to bite. I
haven't slept through the night in years. I have too much debt, and no
idea what I'll be when I grow up even though, somehow, when I wasn't
looking, I ended up way on the other side of grown up. And, if all of
that wasn't enough, I am not a natural redhead.
And the people went a little wild.
Are you okay? - went some.
Seriously, if you think YOUR life is bad ... - went others.
You all are missing the point - went me.
When I see the studies about Facebook affecting mental health, I call a little bit of b*llshit. Let me back up. I totally believe it in some ways and I totally respect people who feel like Facebook is a huge waste of time and doesn't add value to their lives. I get it. And as far as the emotional impact, believe me, there are many times when I see people posting and I feel wistful or lonely. Look at all of these exciting things that are happening to people. Look at their adorable kids whose cheeks I just want to pinch while my cat-child tries to rip my face off. Look at their enormous, fancy residences that have more than two rooms and a washer and dryer. Braggarts.
Sometimes I'm even offended or hurt. Why didn't that person from elementary school that I haven't seen or spoken to in 30 years invite ME to her second cousin's third birthday? What have I done to her? I mean, I'm a fun person. I've never met a karaoke machine that I didn't like and I, um, I smell good. Just ask Judge Judy.
Kidding aside, I do get those twinges of hurt and I do feel lonely seeing posts sometimes. I do feel like everyone is rubbing their fun times in my chocolate ice cream covered face.
But my point is, that's on me and my insecurities. I can't blame Facebook. I was crazy before Facebook and I will be crazy long after we abandon it for something better. Like teleporting to share status updates with one another.
Kinda like how that b*tch from elementary school abandoned me.
Don't get me wrong - I was touched by people responding to me, especially those who showed genuine concern, but, honestly, all I posted was the truth. My truth in that moment in time.
The problem is, I think we're so unused to seeing the truth that it makes us all uncomfortable.
As I said, it doesn't mean that I'm unhappy all the time, but I am certainly not happy all the time either. We're alive - we're meant to feel lots of things. Sure, hopefully happy is on the list and hopefully we feel happier at more points than we do sad, but it's ok to not be happy and moreover, it's ok to admit that you're not happy.
Was it hard for me to post that? It was. But it was harder for me to think that there might be people out there - allegedly my own friends although I now have 414 Facebook friends and I'm really not sure I know all of these people - who might be feeling bad about themselves as a result of something I shared on Facebook and I wanted to rip the mask off, so to speak.
Sure, I have lots of great times and amazing experiences and wonderful people in my life, but there are days that my life is a sh*tstorm and I'm unhappy and wondering how I got here and what to do about it. Stop my life I want to get off.
In fact, the past two months have been a little hard in that regard and it doesn't always feel wonderful, but, as a person who believes everything happens for a reason, I believe I'm meant to feel this way right now as it's hopefully leading me to a better place.
Feelings things, is, like, hard. And being vulnerable is harder. Admitting when things aren't so peachy keen and asking for help can be terrifying.
I'm awful at asking for help and really would rather stab myself in the eye with a hot poker than do it most times, but my reluctance to connect with others in that way is a huge disservice to me and my relationships. It puts a big wall between me and everyone else. I wall that I built with my stubbornness and insecurity, and only love and vulnerability can tear it down.
And when it's down, I'll be selling off pieces of it for $5 a pop.
But for now, I'm doing my best to keep it real, if people still say that. I'm going to post the good, the bad and the ugly. And hopefully, the ugly will be in short supply and I certainly won't be posting expletive-filled video of me on my couch trying to get the damn remote to work, but I refuse to pretend it's not there.
I mean, after all, we're among Friends, right?
