Why do I keep using social media?

It isn’t social. I get to see how other people are being social. I get to read stories about my so-called friends having fun with my other so-called friends. I get to see pictures of these same people having fun without me.

It hurts.

It hurts more when they ask me later – “How come we don’t see you anymore?” They think it has something to do with my husband – is he controlling? Abusive? It isn’t that at all. I ask “How come you don’t invite me anymore?” No answer. They don’t see me because they don’t think of me.

So should I post pictures of my good times? Will that make others feel left out? Maybe. Then why post them?

One longtime friend from high shool, one that I thought I got along well with, not only unfriended me but blocked me. No warning, no reason. Just gone. I thought about sending a message to a mutual friend but she had done the same. Apparently high school behavior isn’t just for high schoolers.

But then, I thought about it. If she didn’t want to talk about it, then I shouldn’t push. Perhaps I offended her and she has no words for it. Perhaps she “just isn’t into me” anymore. After twenty years.

I’ve unfriended and blocked people myself, sometimes without warning. Sometimes with. Sometimes people post things on my page that are inappropriate or low humor. Sometimes people don’t know what should be shared privately. Sometimes people overshare very personal things. Saying “trigger warning” doesn’t excuse some posts. Some posts are better for a therapist, not Facebook.

Some people I’ve unfriended and blocked are family members. I can’t really get rid of them, and telling them that they are overstepping boundaries is just going to make things uglier. Some people are just negative people – and not just to me. Telling them to quit saying “I disagree” to everything I post will just make them more negative. “Unfollowing” their paranoid posts was a start, but when they start sharing their paranoia on my page I have to put up walls. I could “unfollow” them and “hide” my posts for those people, but that just seems so passive-aggressive. Why even pretend we are still friends when we don’t see anything the other posts?

Facebook is a good way of getting to know someone you just met. It is the modern equivalent of hanging out in the hall between classes. You get a few minutes to share, and then you are off to something else. You don’t want to make a “date” with a new friend yet – you don’t know if you are going to want to commit to an hour or two together. But then you get to know them and you find out that they are really creepy or needy or annoying and you unfriend, or block if it is bad enough.

Then they get their feelings hurt. I actually had a coworker ask me why I’d unfriended her. I unfriended her in part because I wanted to write about work, right after work developed a policy saying we could only write about what we liked about work. I didn’t want anything I said getting out to the wrong person. I know you, but I don’t know who you know. I unfriended everybody who I worked with, just in case.

But then I wanted to talk about my crazy family – birth and in-laws. They got their feelings hurt. So I “hid” them. Then our mutual friends connected the dots, and they knew again. What a mess. If I can only post “nice” things then I’m not being honest.

So now I mostly post here, where strangers seem to follow me – if that. Sometimes I feel I’m just talking to myself.

Poem – friend. (predictive text)

First of a little (there are some)
for example and I am not a lot.

Remember the old standbys?
Remember what you want and need.
Rather than being eased
really our own feelings lead.

It isn’t about making a lot of friends.
In fact you can spend the time
If you want on your own site.
I don’t think that you can be found there.

Now what?
Your note for the way home is stuck
to the side of your shoe
caked with mud.
Torn.
Unreadable.
Lost.

Don’t worry about it
Did you get the best in show?

Who cares if the result is beautiful or well groomed or well trained?

Give me a mutt any day.

—————————————–
Some thoughts on this poem/meditation.

What is a friend? Does it matter if she is popular or polite? What is more important, amount of friends or quality? I’m relearning what friendship means, and a lot of it is about being accepted for who I am and having a cheerleader for who I am becoming. Old friends who complain a lot are being cut out of my life, no matter how long I’ve known them or if they are family and I’m expected to be friends with them. People who don’t take my correspondence with them as private and discuss it with others behind my back are being cut out too. I need honesty in my life, and if it means having only a handful of people that are helpful and healing for me, then so be it. People who don’t make time for me aren’t worthy of my time either.

This started out with the letters in “friend” and then needed a little more so I free wrote the fourth stanza and the last two lines.

Unfriendly

It hurts to be unfriended by a family member. But then again, family isn’t by choice. Family is an accident that sometimes works out ok. If he had cared about my feelings he would have just “hidden” me. But he has proven over a decade that he doesn’t care about my feelings at all.

It isn’t as if we had been arguing. I can only suspect that my posts were a little more frequent than he liked. They certainly were more religious than he likes. I can only guess. It isn’t safe to guess what other people’s motives are, I know. In the absence of communication, imagination sneaks in, however.

When I was in England after the death of my Mom, I learned something sitting on the cliffside in Tintagel. It came to me, unbidden, that family has nothing to do with blood.

Sitting on that cliff, on that bright April day, I was surrounded by tiny wildflowers. I was warmed by the gentle sun. I smelled the sea air and heard the crash of the waves below. I was alone. My aunt had wandered off in the ruins, purported to be King Arthur’s castle. The other tourists were away. In that moment the reason for my journey came to me. In that moment of silence the answer to a question I had not asked came.

I wanted to stay there, forever, soaking up that knowledge. When you get that connection, you want to keep it. But sometimes the connection is just a brief kiss on the head, just a handshake from God. Sometimes God just slips you a note, folded up, pressed into your hand, as you are passing in the hall between classes.

We owe nothing to family just because of their blood relationship. We owe nothing to people who say they are friends and don’t prove it by their actions. They may be friendly enough, but if they don’t make time to be with you, then they aren’t really friends. They may be there only when you are happy, but leave when you are sad. They may ignore your birthday. They may forget that you are allergic to certain foods and always serve them. Holidays can be especially difficult because of their actions, or inactions.

Ties between people are bridges that both have to build. If you are doing all the work, walk away.