what we need
I love social media, but the feeling isn’t mutual. I adore seeing people’s happy news and book recommendations, their funny jokes, sappy posts, and pictures of their dogs. But I’m also easily triggered and find random things anxiety-inducing. As a terrible champion overthinker, I delete half of what I put up and agonize over others’ cryptic posts, coming up with at least five possibilities of why someone said what they did. Maybe not the best use of my imagination…
A month into the pandemic, I deactivated social media after getting accepted into a yearlong fellowship program. I was inspired by a friend who’d deleted her accounts when she’d been part of the previous cohort so she could focus on her novel. I wanted to do the same, and hoped it’d also help me connect more meaningfully with the people in my life. (It perhaps did the opposite, but I did buckle down on the novel.)
Two drafts later, I reactivated my accounts and believed the reset helped social media love me back.
Fast forward to a few weeks ago when I crashed my friends’ house to stop myself from doom scrolling… Um, maybe a sign my relationship to social media had gotten unhinged not-so-healthy.
I decided last week it was time for another reset and deleted my phone’s social media apps. I still have my accounts, but can’t readily access them.
Not having them at my fingertips is weird. Uncomfortable. But it’s what I need right now.
This isn’t some moral high road. (Full disclosure: I envy people with functional relationships to social media—which, if my calculation is correct, is everyone but me.) I’m simply trying to quiet the noise. My creativity was zapped, my energy sagging, my mind on overdrive. And I’m hopeful temporarily “disconnecting” will help me gain momentum on my new novel project.
I’m certainly not suggesting anyone struggling creatively should follow suit, but what if we all gave ourselves what we need? Maybe that’s setting aside a draft to follow the heat. Or splurging on a class, workshop, or writing retreat. Maybe that’s simply prioritizing sleep. Or taking a day off work or lining up childcare to spend time writing. Imagine what’s possible if we listen to that nagging voice telling us what we need—and honor it.
Reading Recommendations
Online: Jena Salon has a stunning personal essay, "Thank You for Destroying What I Tried to Build" in Identity Theory about the end of her marriage.
Books:
Recently read: I really enjoyed the essays in Body Language: Writers on Identity, Physicality, and Making Space for Ourselves. It’s edited by Nicole Chung and Matt Ortile and all the work is from Catapult magazine’s archives, so you know it’s good.
Currently reading: I’ll read anything Saeed Jones writes, and am (no surprise) enjoying his latest poetry collection, Alive at the End of the World.
Up next: I’ve wanted to read The Haunting of Hajji Hotak and Other Stories since reading Farooq Chandry’s incredible review in Chicago Review of Books.
You’re amazing, truly. So, how can you give yourself what you need this week?
I appreciate you writing this. This has been on my mind since before summer; deactivating. I know none of us are alone in this. Most just are not doing it. Or are trying to figure out how to do it. I will send you another write up similar to yours that I know you will appreciate. I would love to connect off of SM!