Tag Archives: quitting Facebook

What I’ve Gained from Quitting 4 — Overcoming Habits, Resurrecting Old Good Ones

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I hosed jinxed myself yesterday.

I basically said that it was the first time since before Christmas that I was alone for an entire week, meaning that my kids were all at school every day. My oldest son actually went in to the doctor’s for a strep test which came back negative and he did go to school but today: they’re off. It snowed last night. A whole two inches and well (we are dealing with the massive and sluggish slurpee storm seen below), the local government thinks we’re all going to die, so we may as well die at home.

Slurpee Storm 2013

Slurpee Storm 2013

Today is day 21; the first day of my fourth week of Facebook hiatus (here is the first post about my decision). I was good all last week: the weather was great (that helps). I didn’t wake in Status Update mode; there were a couple moments of cuteness or frustration that I wanted to share or to vent, but I didn’t. Monday I wrote in my journal, “this is great! I’m cured! I haven’t thought in SU mode or anything!” But today, I’m fighting the urge to “post” about the slushstorm (the flakes are downy now and the size of egg yolks, so pretty). So for me, Facebook is like a theater set: I’m on a stage and I think everyone can see me, despite my knowing that the algorithms are such that not many can and after this hiatus, I wonder who will see any post..? And then I must remind myself: none of that matters…

The theater set metaphor raises the specter of the habits I formed last October when everyone was home sick on and off for those four months. The twitches are back and I’m bored, feeling trapped in my threadbare velvet seat, wanting to be on stage (even though I’m a largely private person). Where am I? In my office, hiding from humanity. But I’m not online, engaging with others whom I felt I’d built a fellowship. This is correct and good. The metaphorical and real curtains are open … I am in the world way more and I can see the flakes out front, they are even bigger now, criss-crossing and it looks like they mean it. It’s 31˚ out now…

these are big flakes!

these are big flakes!

Resurrecting a Good Habit

I started working out like a freak last Sunday. I felt another head cold coming on and I reverted back to my old habits of sweating it out. The “industry” rule is this: If you’re feeling sick above the throat: burn it up and sweat it out. If you’re feeling sick below the throat, let it run. Fever? Let it run.

I was able to burn it up and sweat it out because I’d given up Facebook. The next days, I am paying the piper. My lats are killing me, my anterior delts are screaming, my glutes are mad and just about every major muscle is telling me “HELL-O! WELCOME BACK!” But the cold is goneski. This is a good thing.

I don’t talk much about working out here and that’s because I don’t want to sound like a know-it-all, but the fact of the matter is that I do know a lot about health, exercise and nutrition and I can write about it all in an engaging and empowering way, so I will share those thoughts here.

I will write more about health and fitness tomorrow.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Replacing a Habit with Rabbit — This isn’t Magic

I also realized last night, as I was staring down the rabbit hole of school closings and a full house, that even though I haven’t been on Facebook (other than to attend to the nonprofit group and the fiction group I started and that means 1.5 minutes max a week) that I wrote the most blog posts ever last month. I’m feeling like a failure. I essentially replaced one outlet, Facebook, with another, this blog. I see that I also did that in October, when I planned to edit my book and spend less time on the blog.

I didn’t give up writing, I “gave up Facebook.” So then the self-judgement starts: Well, if I really wanted to give up something big, like Jesus did, I’d give up my computer and be a real… you know what? That talk is poison. Guess what: I’m keeping my computer. Jesus was divine. Writing keeps me sane. I have to be ok with accepting myself as a social creature. What I did is enough and the rewards are big and real.

The weirdness of all of this is the obvious independent variable: me. I can blame Facebook and my blog all I want (and I know I’m not) but the “problem” is me. My issue is a fear of being irrelevant. But to whom? I dunno. The five people who need me (Murphy is a person) plus me, largely have me and I am not irrelevant to them. This is tough…

So where did that fear of irrelevance come from? I think it came from Facebook — or maybe Facebook just digitizes it; makes it more immediate. I think the fear of irrelevance is a human condition — I feel we all wish to live feeling as though we’ve contributed somehow to the world or that people knew us… but the thing is: Facebook doesn’t do it. It’s not 3D, it’s not tangible, it’s not real.

My SIL and I were talking last night in person, face-to-face and we discussed the fact that 5-7 years ago, none of this (Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, LinkedIn, etc.) was really here for most of us and if we’re going to do studies on any of it, we should do them on how this massive onslaught of mobile social media has affected our well-being and our relationships and our brains. The data is not terribly compelling, but the trend seems to be bad.

600 People out of the 1 billion in China or India?

I read a post the other day alleging how Facebook makes us depressed. They interviewed 600 users. I had a hard time not laughing at the study because if we go sheerly by numbers, Facebook claims to have 1 billion registered users: basically, China. The study interviewed 600 Facebook users. So if Facebook is the population of China, or India, the study talked to as many people as there are in my child’s elementary school.

Mmmmmokay. Move along.

I’m not going to delve too much deeper into it other than to say this: That’s not a study. What they did determine though, is that the type of user who usually experiences depression as a result of being on Facebook is one who is not actively engaged on Facebook: the lurkers, the stalkers and the people who see other peoples’ input and think then that their own lives suck.

I am going to sound horrid, so put on your sunglasses: these study subjects sound like people who might have esteem / social issues to begin with and it does not define the type of Facebook user I am: I engage, I just stayed on too much, but I see why now: I felt trapped. I don’t think everyone’s life is rosey because most of the people I engage with on FB are people I also know off the grid. We commiserate; we avoid our domestic duties with the flair of a Vegas showgirl. When I’m in a shitty mood, I don’t go online. (Which actually sounds pretty good…) I go to my basement and pretend to beat the crap out of our heavy bag with my pink boxing gloves. I throw them at it. 

The other thing: Facebook simply bores people sometimes. It can be like the alleged humor of drunk parents — not only is it asinine, it’s pedestrian and common.

I searched “Facebook causes depression” and look at the results:

Screen Shot 2013-03-06 at 10.52.30 AM

26 million results.

I searched “Facebook causes happiness” and look at these results:

9.6 million - and most of those start talking about FB causing depression.

9.6 million – and then most of divert to FB causing depression.

The catch is here: living online all the time will constantly make you sad. Sitting on your butt, reading about other peoples’ stuff, looking at pictures, saying, quotes and someecards and cat memes — no matter how witty, apropos, fantastic or screwed up, is going to do NOTHING for our sense of self-worth, our productivity, our optimism, honing a talent or a skill, not to mention cook, clean, fold our laundry or get us back in shape.

A pal of mine wrote about Facebook and perceived perfection on her post, from the standpoint of motherhood and Facebook, and she’s right (we don’t have time to post reality sometimes because we’re cleaning up vomit or chasing the dog) and frankly, we don’t think people care. Lord knows once the moment passes, I don’t really want to think about it again, much less Share it.

So the twinge is gone. Did you know a craving lasts only 14 minutes? If we beat the 14 minutes, we beat the craving and we win.

It’s all about mindfulness. Owning our stuff; being ok with being “just” ok; not taking that online world as our only world and the biggest realization of all: we all die. About 99.2% of us will die largely irrelevant. Facebook wants us to think we can change that. But here’s me:  I’m really fighting irrelevance against the [online] population of China or India which is trying to do the same thing. Chances are… we are gonna stay this way and that’s A-OK by me.

this is a traffic jam in China. (not my pic, click for source)

Are you in there? Get out. The water’s fine.

Oh, these people aren’t online.

Here are just a few dozen people on bicycles… this isn’t even an aerial shot:

This isn’t even a fair representation. (not my pic – click for source)

This is India. Just a town there… (not my pic, click for source)

Be relevant to yourself. To your laundry. To your health.

Thank you.

update: here is when I talked about this next.

What I Will Gain by Quitting Facebook for Lent — 3: Resisting Urges, Feeling Left Out

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So today is Day 12, but I journaled on Friday about it.

The first thing I said in my entry that day was this: “Woke up in Status Update mode,” which really bummed me out. I closed that sentence with, “rats.”

The thing is, I didn’t wake up in SU mode today and I’m glad. I went to sleep last night after playing around on my iPad with a new app using my new stylus called “Ink Writer” and it’s a great extension of creative energy — it’s described as a replacement for paper and ink. You can doodle, trace an outline of a photo, all sorts of things for active minds like mine and it wore me out, in a good way. So today, I woke refreshed, not thinking about Facebook.

Here’s what I did last night on the app. I outlined a photo of myself with my 83# lap dog, Murphy:

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Here are some things I’ve learned in the last 12 days of being almost entirely (save for the fiction group and the fundraising groups I launched) off Facebook:

When I went on FB Friday for the fiction group, the first thing to show up was my home page newsfeed, and what was the first thing I saw? A meme. But this one was about Pistorius not being a flight risk. Pistorius is that double-amputee Olympian who shot his girlfriend three times because she “surprised” him.

Reaction: this isn’t funny. It’s tasteless. Does the fact that this is showing up on my newsfeed show more about me and the online company I keep or does it show how depraved people can be? Answer: yes.

But below the meme, I saw my FB community: their beings digitized and reduced to 1″ avatars and I sensed a quickening in myself, not unlike the sensation I feel when an ambulance goes by. That sounds morbid, but I don’t mean it that way. What I mean by it is to suggest that I feel disconnected, that I am observing, not necessarily voyeuristically, because I also felt no interest. The avatars reminded me of “TV Mike” from “Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory” (the only good one, starring Gene Wilder) when he was broken up into millions of little bits and his mother freaked out that he was the size of a coffee cup when he landed in the TV on the other end of the transportation or “broadcast.”

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Most of the content from this post is coming from the journal entry, that I wrote in hand, on the advice of a friend. My second post about this lenten hiatus was also generated from my journal entry. I am glad I’m doing it this way, on paper first.

I don’t deign to suggest that this experience will be of vast importance to anyone but me, but I am getting feedback from both of my readers that they are encouraged by these posts and the fact that I’m sharing how I’m doing.

When I went on Friday to correspond with the groups, I had 78 unread notifications. I also got a couple emails from Facebook telling me they missed me, and that they’d noticed I hadn’t updated my fan page “in a day” and suggested that I might want to update it then. A day. Well, that’s about right. That’s what I mean to Facebook I guess. For someone who was not a super-heavy user, I was mostly an uploader and content sharer (news posts, etc.), I mattered that much to them. By this point, 10 days later, they missed me as about I as much as I missed them.

But 78 notifications in 10 days. That red 78 over my little monochromatic blue globe made me feel important for a moment and it made me feel as though people wanted me to know they were thinking about me, so I did feel that rush, that draw to go see! but I didn’t look at the notifications — that’s obviously how they get you in. I reminded myself that I don’t care about what I’m missing, despite the fact that I woke that morning with the concept that people needed to hear what I thought first thing. This is a sick trap… for me.

But writing this all in pen on paper gives me a connection with my content; it makes my thoughts indelible, not part of the internet (even though they are now), despite my conflicts.

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I wrote six pages that night. Don’t worry, it’s a 5″x7″ notebook. I feel like Gulliver when I use it.

My life has opened up considerably since logging off and having to stare at my own neediness for approval and my estimation of self import. I’ve gone to museums, I’ve met with eldercare consultants for my parents, I helped out my son’s class with their bread making and then took my son to a food bank the next day to donate the bread… I’ve participated in life, but I found myself not necessarily sated by those acts because something in me, a years-long conditioning is impelling me still — despite my consciousness, awareness and reluctance — to share it on FB, to earn the Likes and the so-called approval for posts that compete with cat memes and glib someecards.

Egad, that sounds really snobby. But it’s true and this is hard for me. I’m truly being candid and am risking sounding like a jerk because I’m processing. It’s a little-known fact FB peeps, that FB has some sort of (another) creepy algorithm to determine what of yours gets seen first by your connections, in your newsfeed. I do know this: images win out. I also say this at risk of sounding completely paranoid and conspiracy theorist-y, but I wonder if FB is intentionally contributing to attention deficit disorder to keep people online; it’s like gambling … I’ve written before about dopamine rushes and pleasure centers and Facebook.

I continued on that thought,

It wasn’t enough to just do it and to document it and share it in a blog post. Something truly bizarre and I thought foreign to me is that urge from deep within that wanted the affirmation yet I know it’s completely pointless as well as soon forgotten once consumed. Do I remember anyone else’s status updates? For 99.829% of status updates I see, the answer is no. What’s more, do I remember any of my own? Do I remember my last one? Well, yes, because that one is when I said I was taking my leave of Facebook, but it’s sort of assholic of me to think that anyone would remember it; it’s an ego thing for me to think that anyone really cares about my status updates; but then I must remember not to be uncool to myself because then that opens up another rabbit hole …

The thing that feeds this concept for me as being an important member of my own Facebook community is that I’m a writer. And the publishing paradigms are shifting: self-publishing abounds, eBooks are all the rage (even though I really want to publish on paper), and the all-but-skywritten pronouncements that traditional publishing is on a DNR.

I hear time and again the need for writers and other creatives to develop a “platform” which is based on the person’s accessibility and social media “persona” and well, my “persona” is me. So that means, as far as the social media platform standpoint is considered, that I keep up with the Joneses, or more likely, the Hausenhaufers and Nardletters and Fingleworths — other completely unknown writers and trust me … there are a lot of us. I lament (quite ironically, by the way) that if I were just a regular person (I KNOW!), then leaving FB would be so much easier… but like Joan Crawford, I have to consider my public, dahling.

Don’t worry — I get it.

I stated in some posts leading up to my eventual decision to abandon FB that I’d had some epiphanies about living life when I was sick with Norovirus. Exhaustion, dehydration and vomiting does wonders for existentialism by the way. Another reason I had was one I don’t talk about very often (great line from “A Few Good Men,” “Because in places you don’t like to talk about at cocktail parties …”) is that I felt left out. That’s hard to admit. It makes me vulnerable and yes, real blah blah blah… but it’s true.

For a long while, when I first joined FB in 2008, I don’t recall ever seeing anyone else’s status updates. I recall going to someone’s wall (and I was a total noob about FB at the time, and I’m grateful that I’m still an FB / social media noob) and seeing what they had to say. I would just post my update or share an article and be off. But then something changed and I saw my friends’ updates and they were often about … well, themselves. And some mutual friends (this is where it gets sticky) and what they did together, with photos, without me. So I felt small, and unimportant and I would become sad.

So, I even did it myself a few times, just to make other people feel small and unimportant, thinking that would make me feel big and amazingly important and you know, special. I’d tag a friend or two in a status update and share it. But then I felt like a dick. So I’d take it off. I learned later to share my thoughts more generically, “A regular night is always nicer with good friends and a dinner served by a hot waiter.” That is a status update that anyone, anywhere can agree with. And you can borrow that status update free of charge.

I have an actual friend who has a rule (which I admire): Anyone she sees on a near-daily basis or who lives within 30 miles of her is not allowed on her FB connections list. (I’m not going to use the word “friend” anymore.) Her connection group is less than 100 and her bullshit ratio is controlled.

So there were also times when I was convinced (because I’m a deluded, self-entitled, paranoid conspiracy theorist) that some of these socially exclusive images were posted as a giant (swear alert) “fuck you!” to me and despite my weirdness, I know I’m right.

Why? Remember how Facebook first began: as the vengeful scheming of and public slandering by a jilted small-minded emotionally arrested boy at Harvard. It all started with his system of rating women based on their looks. Some women liked it and others didn’t; but guess what: they all got talked about and so did the women who weren’t included in the original idea. Facebook was founded on exclusion and rejection. So then that begat the question: do you want to be included in this or not?

Granted, Facebook has evolved (as I’ve stated on a previous post about this topic) or that’s what the marketing would have you believe. No… I don’t know about that. Would the marketing have you believe that? I have to say this, I’ve never seen a television or heard a radio ad or even seen an internet ad for Facebook. Why? Because they don’t need it: in the digitized, Internet-based world, Facebook is ubiquitous. But that doesn’t mean it’s healthy or unhealthy; the more I process this, the more it comes back to my knowing myself and my limitations.

I have another human friend who recently shut down, completely deactivated her account as did her teenage son who will likely be followed by his teenage sister. Why? Because they decided that it’s a freakfest of self-promotion and for my friend at least, she found herself completely unimpressed by it all after a while. And she did it silently, no pronouncements, because she didn’t want to hear about it from anyone. She’s like that. I dig that about her.

And so, here’s me: feeling like after four years that maybe it’s time to graduate. Keep the yearbook, stay in touch an’ all, but you know… get a life. This break has been awesome for the most part, despite my feeling twitchy and needy at times about sharing my thoughts and experiences.

The drop in data and light in my face have helped me become more self-aware, more calm, my thoughts are cohesive and productive and I don’t feel bad about being “away.” Despite what happened Friday morning with the Status Update thought, I haven’t thought that way again and I don’t really feel like hearing about other people. That sounds selfish until I realize that Facebook doesn’t share status updates anymore the way it used to. Back in the stone age, when you had a status update, it stayed at the top of your wall and people would know you’d not been online in a while and that was cool. Now FB shares posters and pictures and ads and cat memes and someecards and other stuff that quite honestly: has done nothing for my life.

The problem for me: it can be fun to get a glimpse of what my friends and family choose to share. I really like to see how everyone seems to be doing. I am a social creature who loves banter and seeing friends and visiting and travel. That’s the social part of social media that I dig.

I remember that before Facebook, I didn’t not think about my friends, I just didn’t think about them not thinking about me. It never occurred to me that I figured that large in their lives. I think about the thought of completely deactivating and it doesn’t completely appeal to me. Still chewing on this; the key is to not be distracted by it.

Thank you.

ps – here is the next post about this: https://mollyfielddotcom.wordpress.com/2013/03/06/what-ive-gained-from-quitting-4-overcoming-habits-resurrecting-old-good-ones/

What I Will Gain by Quitting — 2: Five days after Facebook Lent Give-Up

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This post is incredibly self-absorbed, so if you click X right now, I’d not blame you. However… what if what I have to say strikes a chord with you?

Here is my first entry about this topic: https://mollyfielddotcom.wordpress.com/2013/02/12/what-i-will-gain-from-quitting-journal-entry-1/

So it’s been five days since I left Facebook for Lent. (I think of it more as a matter of convenience actually, as I look back on it now because I’m not terribly religious, but I am spiritual.) The first thing I’ve noticed, and have allowed myself to admit is that by being on Facebook for so long, I’d become programmed or conditioned into thinking about my life, my day-to-day, or even my extraordinary experiences as status updates or as blog posts.

Often, I would wonder,

“Is this clever enough, will I get a Like?”

“Will it impress or somehow engage someone on a deeper level, or will it be ignored?”

“Do I want a deeper level? Do I even want to engage? Am I lying still to myself about all this?”

This is deep stuff and I am a deep thinker.

from http://featuresblogs.chicagotribune.com/headcandy/2009/02/10-tips-for-giving-up-facebook-during-lent.html – this is a 4-year-old article. Its best line: “Write down the last five things you did. Wait ten minutes. Read the list. Ask yourself if you give a &%$#.”

Now, after a few days off the grid, I find myself itching to go there, during moments of perceived boredom, during moments of downtime; and I don’t know why yet. In reality, I am a SAHM, so there really isn’t any downtime; something always needs mending, cleaning, attending. I don’t know why I think I’d be better off reading about someone else’s life: it’s a distraction. A way of not dealing with my own.

Is it truly connection?

What is the point?

Is it to compare and contrast?

These are queries; and I haven’t a clue. I don’t judge anyone else; Facebook has been invaluable to shut-ins and people who have little outside exposure. But what about the rest of us? Those who are gregarious and social by nature? Is Facebook turning us, those people into shut-ins? I remember that Facebook lets 13-year-olds on it. I remember how it started: as the revenge tactic of a snubbed young man who decided to release his anger publicly at the woman who rejected him; but that wasn’t enough: he had to pull other women into the fold and embarrass slander them too.

The entire Facebook concept was begat of rejection, shame and vengeance. Of course we are told it has evolved since then, and it largely has, but still there lies a mustard seed of its essence: comparison and emptiness. I am kidding myself if I believe otherwise. Watch “The Social Network” if you aren’t savvy to its origins. Often I would be tired after being online. Seldom refreshed. – Me.

I used to be a news hound. I still am, or at least I thought I am. But I find myself discarding my news updates in favor of going on Facebook. I used to exercise diligently. I used to have amazing self-discipline. That has wandered away. I am hopeful that I will fill the ever-growing void of Facebook with self-engagement, with self-empowerment.

. . . . . . . . .

Last week, for Valentines Day, a “holiday” I would normally reject, I made “lovesagna” (instead of lasagne), I made red velvet cupcakes and I dipped strawberries in chocolate. All of this, this wellspring of familial enthusiasm for the babies I created with the love of my life was encouraged by a meeting with a eldercare consultant, who knowingly nodded to my snub of Valentines Day, my referring to it as a manufactured holiday. It was never really celebrated in my house as a child; my family of origin was not a dependably happy place. Lots of pain, secrets, privacy. I told her these things; we must get to know these consultants in a way we are not comfortable with. They need to know things: like how we engage with our parents. That was a very difficult exchange.

She understood my reluctance, my inwardly directed shame at not being a better daughter; at not tending to my aging and needy mother. She understood my hesitancy to over-perform with people who did not over-perform for me. Who left me waiting outside the camp grounds or the dance alone or with teachers or counselors who’d had places to go and who knew that although it wasn’t my fault, I was the target of their heat vision. So much pain, but so much joy too. She answered me with, “You can not always give back what was not easily given to you.”

She listened to my recollections of the day and others like it and quietly said later on, “I just believe we should celebrate something every day, and if we are given this gift, to celebrate the most wonderful thing of all, the one day we can let it all out there, and put it out for the world to see, we should. We just should.” And she was right. I’ve never given much celebration to anything major or minor occasions in my life; a remnant of my parents’ emotional parsimony and narcissism. I need to change that. I am demonstrative with my kids, but I am not honoring my true inner cheerful human person when I get vexed every time a happy event comes around just because my parents had issues with it.

How this dovetailed though, with the Facebook sacrifice (ouch) is that I wouldn’t have done those things, I wouldn’t have gone to the store, gotten the makings, gotten out the pans and the mixer and the gear to make those foods because why… I would have gone on Facebook instead. I would have logged on and said “Happy Valentines Day!” and I wouldn’t have meant it. Not one syllable. I would have Liked other people’s stuff, and Liked their stories, and I would have Shared some sentiment of the day, and I would have grumbled inside, fueling my inner misanthrope and calling myself a hypocrite because I would have been denying my inner self: the private person I am, the deeply thinking and deeply feeling person I am, the analyst, the artist, all of it denied rejected to stay popular with the crowd. To do what everyone else is doing.

I celebrated Valentine’s Day and the best part of all of this is that I didn’t say it on Facebook, but I said it privately, to my family, and I meant every syllable. For the first time in a very long while. Probably ever.

Yesterday, Sunday, I watched nothing but old movies on the couch. I watched “Gaslight” and “How to Catch a Thief” and then later I watched the not-as-old, “A Beautiful Mind”; I was struck by them all. Every single one of those stories was about masquerade in one fashion or another. We all have vulnerabilities.

Today, I am waking with less self-consciousness of my thoughts; whether they are “Share” worthy. Wondering if any of it matters. But I miss my close FB friends very much. But I don’t reach out; I feel slightly alone, I feel slightly sad about my decision. But this is how it goes. This is where the growth is. This is where the pay dirt is. As my very wise therapist said years ago when I was addressing my addiction to chaos he said, “all resistance is to change.” How right he was.

Thank you.

ps – here is the next entry: https://mollyfielddotcom.wordpress.com/2013/02/24/what-i-will-gain-by-quitting-facebook-for-lent-3-resisting-urges-feeling-left-out/