Musings: (Un)Social Media

I have this habit. I don’t know if it’s what one might call a “bad” habit, but it has been postulated to me that it could be a sign of obsessive compulsive disorder (which is just what I need on top of everything else–another psychological disorder to navigate; this is part of the reason I haven’t found a new therapist: if I don’t go, it doesn’t exist).

I am a sucker for deleting social media.

Honestly, my favorite thing about Twitter is every time I have deleted my Twitter account. Same thing with Facebook. And Tumblr (although I do kind of regret deleting my old Tumblr because I knew good people through my blog there that I ended up losing touch with).

It’s not that I particularly dislike these sites (except for Twitter–Twitter is an abomination). I just like a clean slate. A fresh start.

Of course, I can only create a new (insert thing here) and re-add everyone I know so many times before people start going, “What is wrong with you? Why do you keep doing this? Are you okay?” [Probably not, but that’s irrelevant.]

So, instead, I go through and delete everything from those accounts, while leaving the accounts themselves up. This is a much longer and arduous process, and it’s not nearly as effective as a full delete, but I don’t have to deal with the unspoken judgement.

It’s not something I do constantly. Usually about once every six month or so, I get that wild hair and delete all of the posts from my Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr (or at least most of them). I do similar with my blog (except I usually just make old posts private, which I did quite recently, which is what prompted this).

I’d say I’m not sure why I do this, but that’s a lie. I know exactly why I do this.

I worry about my image. Which sounds really snobbish and detached from reality (because it’s not like I’m famous, or even acknowledged a lot of the time), but that’s not how I mean it. I’m not talking about how I look to my imaginary fans or whatever. I’m talking about what potential employers see when they search my name. What my dad might accidentally stumble onto over Facebook. Things like that.

Of course, my Facebook is almost completely friends only, and I’m not exactly flashing my bits and pieces over Instagram. But, that acute sense of paranoia is there. “What if…?”

Also, I really like those fresh starts. They make me feel… I don’t even know how to describe it. Like maybe this time I won’t fuck it all up.

Except that I will.

Because I’m human.

And that’s what humans do: We fuck things up.


I love you all.

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P.S. I promise that once I’m back from my vacation, I will seriously look into finding a new therapist to see if this is OCD or just my usual neurosis.


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