So, last week I decided to you know, cut right the heck back on social networks
This has been coming a while, but I thought it might be worth blogging about
When I’m on the net, I see…stuff. A lot of stuff I don’t see (maybe I am blind) IRL. People basically, and in the words of my daughter, being butts to everyone else. Because they can
Now, I try usually and attempt to see the other point of view (this is not always possible and see the whole “tolerance will die because of tolerance” debate – I do not tolerate intolerance, I am bigoted against bigots, so sue me) I am a writer, and to write is to get inside someone else’s head — you HAVE to have empathy.
But after a while that empathy. that – sometimes sarcastic or caustic, I’m British that is often how we do it – tolerance, that empathy, it gets hard. It’s not just what I see — it’s stuff going on IRL etc. For 6 months, the only way we were paying bills was for me to work a job that required ALL THE HOURS. I mean that. ALL THE DAMN HOURS. And I wrote a book too, because I had a deadline (which I missed by a couple of weeks, and they were cool about it)
And add to that, children ill and stuff blowing up and my bipolar said, hey, you know I haven’t visited in a while and…
And sometimes, just sometimes, you see so much hate, and (try to)act against that hate so much, and everything else going on and…you snap. Or I do. Sometimes that snapping is…not nice
Those are the days I do not like the person social media *can* – doesn’t always, and hey the fault is mine — turn me into. I don’t like what it makes me, or *reveals* in me anyway. I don’t want to be that person.
So much shit is going down, and sometimes I have to take a step back. Because I am burnt out on cynicism, on other people’s hate, on people’s hate for me, or those like me. Notwithstanding the people I have met online and consider friends, and they are many.
Because when I live in real life…it’s peaceful. There are no trolls. Hate, if it’s there, is muted and spoken in whispers (so I can ignore it), not shouted in my face
It’s nice. It’s real.
So, a break from the hate, from the vitriol, the sheer acidness.
I may well be back. When I can’t keep my trap shut any more. When I have recharged the empathy batteries. Because right now they are more than dry.