Postcardia-cum-Poetica #21

I discovered this Avant card in the back pocket of my satchel Monday morning, possibly from a recent brunch visit to Brew. Possibly from last writer drinks. 

Welcome to my headspace.

I’m currently on hiatus from ‘life as I know it’. My phone is switched off. I have cancelled all my appointments and social engagements. My projects are all on hold, though I’m writing if I feel inspired to do so. No pressure though. I’m on a break.

I’m trying to get back to ‘me’. Trying to relieve the clusterfuck in my head and the horrible emptiness inside. Learning to be okay with taking a break and facing the fear of losing momentum. Sounds like a far better prospect than losing me!

Post depression/chronic pain/insomnia, I’m still a work in progress. I’m still unsure how to drive this body in a way that doesn’t destroy it in the process. Jokingly, as in typing this, I’m reminded of Moe Willems awesome book, Don’t Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus.

Unashamedly, this postcard is all about me. No pigeons. And definitely no apologies. 

(Apologies though to the postcard artist who, in my current state of mind, I forgot to note down their surname and social media details. Alex, I’m sorry!!)

Social Media Sabbatical

Since the start of the year, I’ve been consciously opting out of social media on a regular basis. For the first few months of the year, I was taking a week every month. It’s been a while since I’ve taken a break from it.

I don’t normally plan it in advance, but I’ve noted several things:

  • it normally happens around the dark moon — an innate sense of wanting to withdraw from the world and spend time in my cave.
  • it occurs at times of fragility — a conscious decision to protect myself from the outside world.

Social media is so seductive. And pervasive. And intrusive if we let it. In 2011 when I had my breakdowns I would have done well to have taken myself offline rather than stay on.

I know now that the times when I feel alone, depressed and generally disconnected, social media looks to offer a genuine connection, an umbilicus to a world I feel separated from. But in reality social media when I’m vulnerable is an avalanche of information, opinion, news, photographs that compound rather than ameliorate my feelings. It sets up greaterĀ  dissonance in my head and despair in my heart.

When I find myself resenting, hating, people on my newsfeed — people with kids who go happily to school, excel at sport and anything else that pings off my own struggles, I know it’s time to take break. To stop comparing apples and oranges, to stop feeding my anxieties and negative self talk.

In the quiet there is a chance to recalibrate. Find equilibrium. To appreciate what you have.

Other times its a matter of just being miserable in private or taking the potential of all the bile and vitriol I want to spit out into the world and contain it, work with it, try and find a way to make peace with it… while I wait for the swing of hormones or thoughts or circumstances to come back in my direction, along with a little sanity, a little comfort.

It’s not until I remove all my social media apps (I spend most of my time on social media via my phone) and disable the websites, do I remember how compulsive my use of them is. It’s beyond habit, it’s an ‘automation of use’. It’s like a fucked up version of breathing. You don’t think to breath. You do it regardless. I don’t think when I’m reaching for Facebook or Twitter. But unlike breathing, I don’t need it.

The first day (like today) is always the hardest, the process of weaning off. It feels lonely and empty — reaching for something that’s no longer there — at a time when I’m feeling lonely and empty.

Broken.

In time I’ll feel cohesive again. There will be an opportunity to relish the space, the quiet, the room to move in my head again. When I return there will be a frantic type of energy (there always is) that scares me. Like when I first moved to the city and driving in three lanes of traffic was overwhelming. It takes a few days to adjust to being part of the social amoeba again, to want to be part of it (even if I’ve been dying to get back into the thick of it).

Until then there is reading, housework, journalling, planning, prep work for teaching, time for introspection, movies and the other things from which time is regularly sucked from. And waiting, I know, are conversations that come about because the convenience of social media has gone.

Image via Photoree