As I had been feeling too overwhelmed by certain posts in my other Facebook account, I decided to shut if off temporarily as I needed to rest from the hurly-burly of information extant in that social media platform. This I had to undertake as a resolution to my current choleric state—I do not want any more doses of political posts, partisan politics, vituperations against particular beliefs, and certain nonsensical memes that do nothing but uphold the proliferation of ignorance rather than enlightenment. All those “noise” in my news feed while I try my very best to wheel myself out of depression and dysfunction nowadays, so I decided that deactivating would be a key to my sanity. Instead I hobbled through signing up for another Facebook account, added individuals who mean most to me, and began posting more personal thoughts and ruminations as always. While doing so, for some reason, I felt a sort of encompassing calm in that of I resolving to take a step backward and enjoy a more uncomplicated social media environment. In my new account, all I could see are snippets of life that my friends encounter in their everyday journeys such that I revel in the jubilation of making a move to diminish, even just for a while, a burgeoning arena of hodgepodge tales and impervious jokes and sometimes political finger-pointing that mortify my spirit. I have had enough of those. Enough.
However, I needed to inform my other account’s Facebook contacts of the need for my hiatus. I have never expected a reply when I decided to post that notice: it was just that, I had to so I would not leave students or colleagues hanging or stupefied at my decision to not reply to comments right then and there or that of shutting down Facebook for a period of time. All was well, then a student asked me why. As part of my silence, I did not answer. But then, here comes another Facebook friend insinuating that my friends over there just message me in my new account instead of that account; and with that I felt insulted. My new account is my personal space that no one out of what I consider my inner circle and special comrades should dare trespass. Thus at the back of my mind I began having anxious ruminations on how my colleagues might speculate on how delinquent I might be or secretive about my current state. Moreover them eventually learning of a new account may plunge them into apprehensions about friendship or attempts at connecting on a more personal level, and this I am most afraid of. Since it is of common knowledge that an online presence is usually tied to individuality and one’s real-life persona, it is but a sort of an unspoken rule to at least reach out with that same warm individuality through social media as one would in actual, personal, social conversations. Now having an extra account can elicit suspicion: is she hiding something?
With this ringing in my brain, I felt a tad bit of a paranoia. Now they know, I thought. Things might not be the same again.
Now for some this sort of thinking might be almost second to that paranoia I had been expecting as reactions from colleagues upon them knowing of a second account. The thing is, though, the very thought is insatiable but at the same time, all too encroaching. With this I had wanted to lash out at that commenter on blowing my cover so to speak; for, after all, it’s not so nice to be revealing certain things intended for a limited audience as this maligns my privacy. For me it almost matches up to treason but of course in a lesser degree.
Yes, I would have dealt with the individual through fiery retorts or worse, ad hominem insults that might equate my utterances to those television drama scripts stocked with fallacies and haphazardly-invoked assertions. Yes, I would have fought tooth and limb with an arsenal of colloquies haughtily and disparagingly levied upon the person, who, without his knowing, had become my point of rage. Yet I decided to just leave it at that. His anticipation of a reply was quelled. There was no point on my part anyway to type in anything just so to fuel an expectation of a comment; and with this I found necessitous that silence be my refuge.
This undertaking may be for me, once upon a time, a hurdle as I could entirely be overcome by emotions that feed my negative dispositions. Nevertheless I am trying to take a step towards self control. This time I want less of the drama, and as I said, less of the clutter. I might be offended indeed, but adding more petrol to a conflagration does not, in any way, pose much of a solution. So I’d rather let silence take its place and my ego at the back seat as dealing with situations spell dealing with one’s mind’s infirmities. If I need to get well, I need to keep myself from a burning impulse to merely satiate such on a whim. Additionally, attitude can be a shrew at times so dealing can be likewise a big deal. Attitude, then, must be tamed. Now if so, one cannot discount the fact that all things may, in time, fall into their proper places.