Breaking Up with Twitface Because Buckets

Hi, it’s me. I missed long-form blogging, I think I’m funny, I want to help people, and here I am. I used to write a lot on Livejournal, but I completely lost my energy to do it because Twitter sipped it out of me 140 characters at a time.

I broke up with Twitter because the stupid was raising my blood pressure. (Absolutely true: I was on the verge of needing meds. I quit Twitter, and three months later my bp was stunningly healthy again.)

My rebound was Facebook. I went back to writing long stuff. I reconnected with pals. But, Facebook was always letting me know I stacked up compared to friends and peers. Nothing sharpens the fear of inferiority like having a thing you engage with willingly quantifying your every move. (Like your assface ex constantly chattering about who they find hot, and it’s people who are nothing like you.)

I kind of bounced back to Twitter, just to promote things, swear to higher power. Friends with dubious benefits. Then, the bigoted, misogynistic orange election shitshow hit, and it was like a sober person trying to hang with junkie friends. I only did one line of snark and I was using again. (Incidentally, #Imwithher #notmypresident.)

And I started waking up screaming. I stopped being able to sleep. I mindlessly FB’d and Twatted, waiting for the random endorphin rush to hit. Sometimes it was trolling the goblin-elect, sometimes it was a heap of ❤️ for something I wrote. I started to melt down completely at random. I was scaring my husband and daughter.

I wasn’t drawing, wasn’t working on my slate of fun cool things, wasn’t moving forward with the home renovation (which just had its first birthday!) I wasn’t doing anything but dogpaddling in the pool of angrybadswamp, with the water leaking into my mouth. I was overcome with a feeling of helplessness, and I was starting to think about dying.

That’s bad. You should know that.

Really, Facebook and Twitter are terrible people you used to be friends with, and they did a favor for you once, and you’re afraid of a dramasplosion if you say no. So you avoid them until you can’t. But Twitface’s not design to be ignored or nodded at in a noncommittal way. They’re designed to keep you scrolling, to feed you ads, because free things cost, and you pay with your attention.

It’s like this: that bad friend talks you into a ride, then asks if you’ll pick someone else up. Their friend’s a little high, they’re wearing a Make America Great for Nazis hat, and they smoke, is that okay? Oops, they need to run an errand, c’mon. Before you know it, you’re out in the country, pulling up to a mobile home with Home Depot buckets for steps and fucking yikes.

And just fuck that. I’m not giving up on activism, I was doing a lot via Twitter and FB, but I need some fresh damn water.

Watch this space.


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