Confessions of a Social Media Ghoster
They say the first step in recovery is admitting you have a problem. So…okay, here goes…
I dip.
I ghost.
I disappear.
Yeah, it’s true. Withdrawal isn’t only reserved for substance abuse and ATMs.
I never mean to take a flying leap off the grid. In fact, I don’t even realize how far I’ve jumped until I’m lying on the ground nursing the scuffs and scratches and then realize that months and months and months (okay, FINE, years) have passed since I’ve made a post. Time doesn’t just fly when you’re having fun—it also zooms past when you’re avoiding it.
Thinking about it, I guess I can kind of feel when the need to socially detach is coming, but like a renegade truck speeding the wrong way down a one-way street, I ignore the signs. The way my mind shuts down, with fatigue mysteriously setting in, whenever it’s time to plan my next post. The knot of subconscious resistance that dissolves into dread when I pick up my phone and see a message indicator at the top of the screen (I swear, those red numbers will be the death of me). That inexplicable, cathartic relief when the message turns out to be spam and I don’t have to turn on my brain to craft a response to a real, live person. Bots of the world, this introvert salutes you.
And maybe that word right there is the root of the whole issue: introvert.
I like being alone. I like not talking to people. I could spend an entire week in my own company and feel like I’d had the greatest time at the bestest house party EVER. Don’t get it twisted—I can have fun around people and talk up such a storm that a weatherman could retire early, but I’m energized in the solitude. Human beings need food, water, and sleep to survive, right? Well, throw in a good dose of some solemn silence, and I’d be immortal. (You know you’re the poster child for being antisocial when even your Animal Crossing villagers are located on the opposite end of the island so you don’t have to speak to them as soon as you open the game. Yep, it’s like that.)
So, for someone like me, interacting on social media every day can become pretty taxing. Because…umm…y’know, of that whole “social” part. My lips might not be moving, but keeping a mental smile while engaging in virtual chit-chat can be just as draining. After the initial enjoyment wears off and the bright-and-shiny keyboard banter starts losing its luster, I’m ready to tap out. Pass the popcorn, clear some space on the sofa, and turn off the lights—I’m done.
Before I know it, my stay in “time out” gets longer, and any desire to slip back into an online presence diminishes. The subconscious knot begins to form, growing tighter and tighter until it inevitably implodes and flicks on autopilot mode:
1. Pick up phone,
2. Pray no one’s tagged me,
3. Attack spam (delete, delete, delete…),
4. Scan timeline in five minutes or less before anyone notices I’m there, and
5. Escape back to my mental haven of solitude, giving myself a hearty pat on the back for fulfilling my social obligation of the day. Bring on the popcorn.
And maybe that’s another word right there: obligation.
Should I post because I’ve been told to follow a magic “frequency formula,” even if I don’t have anything interesting to share? That question has been my struggle. I don’t always feel clever, witty, or wise—sometimes, I feel more like a potato than a poet. There have been so many times when I’ve forced myself to post something (ANYTHING!) even when I wasn’t feeling it, all because some sage blogger drilled into me that the only way to engage on social media properly is to post regularly and often. But how much value is there in pumping out a bunch of hollow words when I don’t have anything to say? Going through the motions is just a painful way of staying still.
When posting on social media stops feeling fun, inspiring, or invigorating and becomes something I feel obligated to do (like cleaning the toilet or paying taxes), it’s only a matter of time before it free-falls to the end of my to-do list. And when things get to the point where I’d rather slap on some latex gloves, give the bowl an extra Lysol scrub, and pay a friendly visit to the IRS before making my first post of the day, its position at rock bottom has arrived. Instead of being the engaging, entertaining activity it’s meant to be, it’s now work…and life is too short to put in time on the assembly line without getting paid.
And there’s that big word: life.
No matter what you do or how good your intentions are, life really will get in the way. Every time life throws its vicious curveballs at me (illness, the deaths of my beloved fur babies, stress at work, relocating to another state, etc., etc., etc.), I tend to duck and retreat to a safe corner until the aerial artillery stops trying to put me in a coma. With every ball that whizzes past my head, my time in the safety zone lasts longer and longer. Soon, it becomes harder for me to come out.
And when the words introvert, obligation, and life collide in one glorious, chaotic fireball, they form a limbo that takes a little (okay, a lot) of energy and willpower for me to escape. A day turns into two days…then a week…then a month…and before I realize it, the seasons have changed. New Year’s has come and gone, and the corner I retreated to for mental recuperation has become my permanent place of residence. But no matter how hard my introversion knocks me out or how low life knocks me down, I do eventually head toward the blue sky. Eventually…
As I’ve taken time for reflection and pondered how to maintain an online presence in a way that will fit my personality, providing a place of comfort and creative freedom instead of anxiety, I think I’ve found the answer that works for me. In the end, maybe it’s not about how often I post but about being true to my authentic self. In time, the genuine me will shine brighter than a bunch of regularly scheduled posts.
Quality over quantity? Authenticity over frequency.
And maybe allowing myself to go at my own pace in my own time, saying the words I want to say when I want to say them, will empower me to say them louder and more often. And maybe staying true to who I am instead of forcing myself into a generic formula will keep me out of limbo’s dark corner—or, at least, limit how long I stay there. So, as I embrace my truth and the social frailty of my authentic self, I declare with full confidence and assurance:
I’m back!!!
For now…
They say the first step in recovery is admitting you have a problem. So…okay, here goes…
I dip.
I ghost.
I disappear.
Yeah, it’s true. Withdrawal isn’t only reserved for substance abuse and ATMs.
I never mean to take a flying leap off the grid. In fact, I don’t even realize how far I’ve jumped until I’m lying on the ground nursing the scuffs and scratches and then realize that months and months and months (okay, FINE, years) have passed since I’ve made a post. Time doesn’t just fly when you’re having fun—it also zooms past when you’re avoiding it.
Thinking about it, I guess I can kind of feel when the need to socially detach is coming, but like a renegade truck speeding the wrong way down a one-way street, I ignore the signs. The way my mind shuts down, with fatigue mysteriously setting in, whenever it’s time to plan my next post. The knot of subconscious resistance that dissolves into dread when I pick up my phone and see a message indicator at the top of the screen (I swear, those red numbers will be the death of me). That inexplicable, cathartic relief when the message turns out to be spam and I don’t have to turn on my brain to craft a response to a real, live person. Bots of the world, this introvert salutes you.
And maybe that word right there is the root of the whole issue: introvert.
I like being alone. I like not talking to people. I could spend an entire week in my own company and feel like I’d had the greatest time at the bestest house party EVER. Don’t get it twisted—I can have fun around people and talk up such a storm that a weatherman could retire early, but I’m energized in the solitude. Human beings need food, water, and sleep to survive, right? Well, throw in a good dose of some solemn silence, and I’d be immortal. (You know you’re the poster child for being antisocial when even your Animal Crossing villagers are located on the opposite end of the island so you don’t have to speak to them as soon as you open the game. Yep, it’s like that.)
So, for someone like me, interacting on social media every day can become pretty taxing. Because…umm…y’know, of that whole “social” part. My lips might not be moving, but keeping a mental smile while engaging in virtual chit-chat can be just as draining. After the initial enjoyment wears off and the bright-and-shiny keyboard banter starts losing its luster, I’m ready to tap out. Pass the popcorn, clear some space on the sofa, and turn off the lights—I’m done.
Before I know it, my stay in “time out” gets longer, and any desire to slip back into an online presence diminishes. The subconscious knot begins to form, growing tighter and tighter until it inevitably implodes and flicks on autopilot mode: 
1. Pick up phone,
2. Pray no one’s tagged me,
3. Attack spam (delete, delete, delete…),
4. Scan timeline in five minutes or less before anyone notices I’m there, and
5. Escape back to my mental haven of solitude, giving myself a hearty pat on the back for fulfilling my social obligation of the day. Bring on the popcorn.
And maybe that’s another word right there: obligation.
Should I post because I’ve been told to follow a magic “frequency formula,” even if I don’t have anything interesting to share? That question has been my struggle. I don’t always feel clever, witty, or wise—sometimes, I feel more like a potato than a poet. There have been so many times when I’ve forced myself to post something (ANYTHING!) even when I wasn’t feeling it, all because some sage blogger drilled into me that the only way to engage on social media properly is to post regularly and often. But how much value is there in pumping out a bunch of hollow words when I don’t have anything to say? Going through the motions is just a painful way of staying still.
When posting on social media stops feeling fun, inspiring, or invigorating and becomes something I feel obligated to do (like cleaning the toilet or paying taxes), it’s only a matter of time before it free-falls to the end of my to-do list. And when things get to the point where I’d rather slap on some latex gloves, give the bowl an extra Lysol scrub, and pay a friendly visit to the IRS before making my first post of the day, its position at rock bottom has arrived. Instead of being the engaging, entertaining activity it’s meant to be, it’s now work…and life is too short to put in time on the assembly line without getting paid.
And there’s that big word: life.
No matter what you do or how good your intentions are, life really will get in the way. Every time life throws its vicious curveballs at me (illness, the deaths of my beloved fur babies, stress at work, relocating to another state, etc., etc., etc.), I tend to duck and retreat to a safe corner until the aerial artillery stops trying to put me in a coma. With every ball that whizzes past my head, my time in the safety zone lasts longer and longer. Soon, it becomes harder for me to come out.
And when the words introvert, obligation, and life collide in one glorious, chaotic fireball, they form a limbo that takes a little (okay, a lot) of energy and willpower for me to escape. A day turns into two days…then a week…then a month…and before I realize it, the seasons have changed. New Year’s has come and gone, and the corner I retreated to for mental recuperation has become my permanent place of residence. But no matter how hard my introversion knocks me out or how low life knocks me down, I do eventually head toward the blue sky. Eventually…
As I’ve taken time for reflection and pondered how to maintain an online presence in a way that will fit my personality, providing a place of comfort and creative freedom instead of anxiety, I think I’ve found the answer that works for me. In the end, maybe it’s not about how often I post but about being true to my authentic self. In time, the genuine me will shine brighter than a bunch of regularly scheduled posts.
Quality over quantity? Authenticity over frequency.
And maybe allowing myself to go at my own pace in my own time, saying the words I want to say when I want to say them, will empower me to say them louder and more often. And maybe staying true to who I am instead of forcing myself into a generic formula will keep me out of limbo’s dark corner—or, at least, limit how long I stay there. So, as I embrace my truth and the social frailty of my authentic self, I declare with full confidence and assurance:
I’m back!!!
For now…
They say the first step in recovery is admitting you have a problem. So…okay, here goes…
I dip.
I ghost.
I disappear.
Yeah, it’s true. Withdrawal isn’t only reserved for substance abuse and ATMs.
I never mean to take a flying leap off the grid. In fact, I don’t even realize how far I’ve jumped until I’m lying on the ground nursing the scuffs and scratches and then realize that months and months and months (okay, FINE, years) have passed since I’ve made a post. Time doesn’t just fly when you’re having fun—it also zooms past when you’re avoiding it.
Thinking about it, I guess I can kind of feel when the need to socially detach is coming, but like a renegade truck speeding the wrong way down a one-way street, I ignore the signs. The way my mind shuts down, with fatigue mysteriously setting in, whenever it’s time to plan my next post. The knot of subconscious resistance that dissolves into dread when I pick up my phone and see a message indicator at the top of the screen (I swear, those red numbers will be the death of me). That inexplicable, cathartic relief when the message turns out to be spam and I don’t have to turn on my brain to craft a response to a real, live person. Bots of the world, this introvert salutes you.
And maybe that word right there is the root of the whole issue: introvert.
I like being alone. I like not talking to people. I could spend an entire week in my own company and feel like I’d had the greatest time at the bestest house party EVER. Don’t get it twisted—I can have fun around people and talk up such a storm that a weatherman could retire early, but I’m energized in the solitude. Human beings need food, water, and sleep to survive, right? Well, throw in a good dose of some solemn silence, and I’d be immortal. (You know you’re the poster child for being antisocial when even your Animal Crossing villagers are located on the opposite end of the island so you don’t have to speak to them as soon as you open the game. Yep, it’s like that.)
So, for someone like me, interacting on social media every day can become pretty taxing. Because…umm…y’know, of that whole “social” part. My lips might not be moving, but keeping a mental smile while engaging in virtual chit-chat can be just as draining. After the initial enjoyment wears off and the bright-and-shiny keyboard banter starts losing its luster, I’m ready to tap out. Pass the popcorn, clear some space on the sofa, and turn off the lights—I’m done.
Before I know it, my stay in “time out” gets longer, and any desire to slip back into an online presence diminishes. The subconscious knot begins to form, growing tighter and tighter until it inevitably implodes and flicks on autopilot mode:
1. Pick up phone,
2. Pray no one’s tagged me,
3. Attack spam (delete, delete, delete…),
4. Scan timeline in five minutes or less before anyone notices I’m there, and
5. Escape back to my mental haven of solitude, giving myself a hearty pat on the back for fulfilling my social obligation of the day. Bring on the popcorn.
And maybe that’s another word right there: obligation.
Should I post because I’ve been told to follow a magic “frequency formula,” even if I don’t have anything interesting to share? That question has been my struggle. I don’t always feel clever, witty, or wise—sometimes, I feel more like a potato than a poet. There have been so many times when I’ve forced myself to post something (ANYTHING!) even when I wasn’t feeling it, all because some sage blogger drilled into me that the only way to engage on social media properly is to post regularly and often. But how much value is there in pumping out a bunch of hollow words when I don’t have anything to say? Going through the motions is just a painful way of staying still.
When posting on social media stops feeling fun, inspiring, or invigorating and becomes something I feel obligated to do (like cleaning the toilet or paying taxes), it’s only a matter of time before it free-falls to the end of my to-do list. And when things get to the point where I’d rather slap on some latex gloves, give the bowl an extra Lysol scrub, and pay a friendly visit to the IRS before making my first post of the day, its position at rock bottom has arrived. Instead of being the engaging, entertaining activity it’s meant to be, it’s now work…and life is too short to put in time on the assembly line without getting paid.
And there’s that big word: life.
No matter what you do or how good your intentions are, life really will get in the way. Every time life throws its vicious curveballs at me (illness, the deaths of my beloved fur babies, stress at work, relocating to another state, etc., etc., etc.), I tend to duck and retreat to a safe corner until the aerial artillery stops trying to put me in a coma. With every ball that whizzes past my head, my time in the safety zone lasts longer and longer. Soon, it becomes harder for me to come out.
And when the words introvert, obligation, and life collide in one glorious, chaotic fireball, they form a limbo that takes a little (okay, a lot) of energy and willpower for me to escape. A day turns into two days…then a week…then a month…and before I realize it, the seasons have changed. New Year’s has come and gone, and the corner I retreated to for mental recuperation has become my permanent place of residence. But no matter how hard my introversion knocks me out or how low life knocks me down, I do eventually head toward the blue sky. Eventually…
As I’ve taken time for reflection and pondered how to maintain an online presence in a way that will fit my personality, providing a place of comfort and creative freedom instead of anxiety, I think I’ve found the answer that works for me. In the end, maybe it’s not about how often I post but about being true to my authentic self. In time, the genuine me will shine brighter than a bunch of regularly scheduled posts.
Quality over quantity? Authenticity over frequency.
And maybe allowing myself to go at my own pace in my own time, saying the words I want to say when I want to say them, will empower me to say them louder and more often. And maybe staying true to who I am instead of forcing myself into a generic formula will keep me out of limbo’s dark corner—or, at least, limit how long I stay there. So, as I embrace my truth and the social frailty of my authentic self, I declare with full confidence and assurance:
I’m back!!!
For now…
