Social Media and Me

Life without social media for a week has been productive in many ways. I’ve generated a lot of art and fresh words. I’ve had the opportunity to focus on my personal life in a way I’d neglected when I was checking for likes and retweets and yeah, potentially for sales of my books.

I miss my friends. I miss the interaction.

In my teens and early twenties, I didn’t have consistent access to a computer or the internet. I was also fairly busy in terms of meat space social life. Then, at the tail end of my undergraduate experience, I was on Myspace for a hot minute. Going to law school ended that little experiment. At the time, we were warned of the ways in which our internet forms of expression would reflect back on our ability to represent clients. Like some archaic warning that visible tattoos would render you unemployable, I skipped social media during the hay day of my age group.

In 2017, I rejoined the race. I was preparing to launch my self publishing career and followed the advice out there to have social media presence, facebook author page, twitter, and instagram. Aaaaand, people liked me pretty much right away. So much validation. After being offline for ~15 years, I believed I wouldn’t have much relatability or affability or anything people would enjoy. I’d already made up my mind that I wouldn’t find meaningful friendships, but that I’d treat it like a job. A means to an end.

For 3 years, I composed my thoughts and feelings into tweet length statements and shared art like my resources to create were infinite. I learned several things after the first year.

1. Social media can augment existing distribution/socialization of a public figure (artist, writer, whatever), but almost never nurtures a new entrant through social media alone.
2. Likes on social media do not translate to conversion sales or link clicks at a ratio above 1-5%. This meant I worked my ass off for very little return.
3. I can be an unreliable but true friend to ~5 people at a time. I can not scale love or attention. I was spread too thin.

“I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.” ~ J.R.R. Tolkien - The Lord of the Rings

It’s funny. Connection with people is my one truly enjoyable experience. Yet, due to a combination of over-zealous empathy, mental health issues, limited emotional resource, I often require long periods of isolation to put my mind back together. Those who tolerate me and call me friend put up with a lot of shit. This ghosting of mine is one of the most painful. In meat space, I might be your best friend for a year, then, I left state in the middle of the night with no forwarding address. I did this from ages 1-35. I’m not sure I know how to stop.

I’m a cat meme. A contradiction wanting attention and connection and then hiding under beds or running away never to return. Both are true.

There were many things about social media which became toxic to me. I couldn’t hang. I couldn’t relax. I couldn’t voluntarily stop either. The compulsion to check. To post. To check. To check. To check. Naw. I had to quit. But where does that leave someone who makes art and writing ostensibly for consumers to discover and enjoy?

I don’t know. I’m watching the SEO analysis as I write this god forsaken post. It says I’m doing it wrong. That no one will find this “content” because of how I’m writing it. What am I supposed to do?