Most of us have no understanding or compassion towards how sensitive EVERYONE’S emotional states are after being locked down in houses gorging news, booze, and social media and it shows.
Let’s be aware that the majority of us, some more willing to admit than others, are dealing with some severe mental health degradation, phobias, addictions, and griefs not only as a result of this pandemic but just from being human in general. I think it’s time we slow down and give each other a mother fuckin’ break.
This broken foundation and state of fear and hurt that we are operating from is not conducive to progress and resolution when making choices, problem-solving, discoursing, and empathizing with one another. Yet, we continue to nitpick language over the intention, shame, cancel, end relationships, and draw lines in the sand to those that don’t mirror to our liking. You can get an innocent person to plead guilty to anything if you beat them hard and long enough but is that truth?
We are collectively becoming a species addicted to chaos, lacking patience, curiosity, listening skills, tolerance, and open hearts and I refuse to accept that.
Taking a break from social media. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and finally decided it was the right thing to do. I’ve taken small breaks here and there over the years but had convinced myself that I NEEDED it to further my writing career and stay up to date with friends and social/political causes. I’m not going to lie, it’s going to take some adjusting. As much as I love connecting with others from afar especially during these times, I was starting to notice how much more addictive it was becoming. I caught myself scrolling on Instagram one day while I wasn’t even looking at my phone, just my finger moving. It was fucking weird. After watching The Social Dilemma it reaffirmed my suspicions and made it clear that I need to put this HUGELY TIME-CONSUMING part of my life on pause. I don’t want to participate in any type of technology that can predict and control my emotions and actions. Fuck no.
Being an Empath also makes the social media experience extremely intense for me most times. It makes me irritable. I get submerged into everything and everyone and I have a hard time deciphering my own feelings. Watching friends post material opposite of what I know is going on internally got me feeling particularly turned off by the platforms. It’s too damn distracting and confusing for self-identity and self-assurance. The whole pretending to be someone you aren’t or that you wish you were for the likes of others can’t be healthy. Having our online identity be the main source of our dopamine rushes throughout the day is, of course, a major setup for disappointment, insecurity, addiction, and depression.
So much of what I see on social media is thriving off emotional triggers of an already emotionally exhausted and traumatized people and I just can’t get down with that. I can’t get down with watching people I know become more and more cynical and divided because they think their truth is more superior. Who the fuck are we to be battling others on something they have to discover themselves? Unfortunately, many people only care about social justice and human rights when it becomes personal to them. You can only do so much, people have to be curious, they have to WANT to change their views. The truth is, everyone is living in what they believe to be true to themselves, even if it seems crazy to someone else, it’s still true for them. It’s also worth mentioning that most people’s views have become radicalized by the way social media’s algorithms work anyway so it’s not as black and white as it seems when it comes to good vs evil, mask vs no mask, democrat vs republican.
If feels as though social media is slowly turning us into inflexible, intolerable, and impatient people. Where’s the room for growth in that? Exploring, accepting other views, ways, cultures is what’s supposed to make this experience more successful, colorful, and exciting. I refuse to put myself up against others any longer in this setting and I refuse to passively ingest this mess with very little outlets of real action. I figured it’s better to take it the fuck down a notch and center myself on what’s in front me. My community, my healing, my writing, my relationships, my empath writing workshops and retreats, too much to even state. I have to remember that what I bring to this life, my influence, my type of magic, is not meant to be wasted on social media. It’s also important to remember we can still be social and political activists and participants without having our every move be tracked, stored, manipulated, and controlled through an app.
So how many sunrises and sunsets have you missed while staring at your phone?
……………………………………………………………………………….
I would love to hear your thoughts and experiences on your relationship with social media.
Light peeking through the curtains, I smile with a sigh of relief. Today, I can see you, I even went to the roof to admire your rise. Making up for all the days your presence fails to penetrate my pit, Not today, I can see you sun, I mean really see you. Please, please stay.
I thought I was waiting, I thought I was late, Merely because my thoughts were wrapped in time, in a state. Only to unveil that everything I am is punctual, Is exactly where I’m supposed to be. And this time, time, time, That we continue to weaponize against ourselves, Is the exactly what has halted us from the present, From the growth, From the real magic that exists inside and outside our realms.
Contemptuously conditioned to stuff extremely complicated subjects into tiny boxes. Hoarding what’s ours and hissing at anyone who questions, No, threatens! I don’t believe that some are tougher than others. Sensitivity is the nature of our species, Some of us are just better liars, Cloaking ourselves in more acceptable emotions like indifference, anger, annoyance. Because most of us have souls that fled somewhere in the early chaos, Leaving our hearts exposed to whatever change of wind life decides to blow.
Thoughts lag coming to an abrupt halt, heavy and hollow, Eyes paralyzed staring at something, Seeing nothing. Air releases entirely from the lungs, Taking a light head to remind me to breathe. Body numbing, Stomach falling, and cheeks flushed to the ghost that has just reappeared.
Snap out of it, Stay positive. An idea, a mistaken belief, That this springs from nurturing negative thoughts, That we allow ourselves to feel so much that we’re swallowed whole by the dark.
What they don’t know is that this dark, is not dark at all, It’s being paralyzed in the in-between, Kidnapped in broad daylight.
What they don’t know is that it dances in ruthlessly at times when it’s least invited, A needle slowly deflating even the most optimistic, colorful of the bunch.
The truth is, depression, is feeling absolutely nothing.
Can you think of anything more terrifying than feeling nothing?
It’s a suffocation that tricks you into believing you will be stuck feeling nothing forever, That is until it finally releases its grip.
Like most things, it comes in waves, subtle or strong, and in order to survive, we have to remember to hold on tight while the worst of it passes.
I ran to the hills to catch a breath, a few breaths, some new fucking lungs. I needed time, Everyone needs time sometimes, Despite what we’re raised to believe.
I needed my memory and in these hills the last they were seen. The smell alone was enough, The cedar, the soil. And just as I suspected, they arrived.
Many say you can’t live in the past and I agree it can be a horrid place. But you also can’t heal what hasn’t been exposed. And there are few things I find more courageous than facing your greatest opponent.
Perfect for me,
When I’m reminded perfection is false,
I’m reminded that I have feeling,
that stretches further than myself.
And just as my day marked a new beginning, I saw an unapologetic period stamped on yours.
Because nothing feels as real as seeing your strange, lifeless body covered by a sheet,
And nothing feels less perfect than knowing your delicate spirit had to drift from the pavement of a lonely street.