Last night, I had quite an unusual thought for me. I like to share my writing and I like to be available. But wow… Do I really need all these apps on my smartphone?
Do I really need:
- Facebook Messenger
- Hangouts
- Skype
- Wattpad
- Livejournal
- Tablo
- Soundcloud
- and even this place
- and then all the places I forgot…
What if I cut back? What seemed to be a terrifying thought just a couple of days ago appears to become ingrained as a soon-to-be fact. It’s not a matter of self-esteem or self-loathe. But all this exposure, that is sick! It’s making me sick, because as much as I say that I don’t have expectations, I do. I expect a reaction on a pic I post on Twitter/Facebook/Instagram. I expect a response to things I wrote on here/Wattpad/Tablo/Livejournal/Twitter/Facebook, hell, even Instagram. And I feel miserable when nothing happens. I keep checking back and I look at statistics and numbers and it only makes it worse.
The question arises: Why did I think that I need this in the first place? The answer is easy. I want to be seen and I want to be loved. Rejection, even if only a mild form in the guise of not being seen hurts my soul. On the other hand, nice comments on my writing are always very much appreciated. I am well aware that I am a drop in a huge ocean. Yes, I know how to use words at times. And yes, even if it sounds conceited, my writing is good. Poetry or short stories, even my longer novels.
But why do I need that validation? Why do I need an audience? Again, because I like to be praised and I like to be loved.
If you stripped back the writing and the music, there is not a fascinating person left. Sure, I am opinionated. But who isn’t? I am old enough to have opinions and be passionate about them. I should also be mature enough to acknowledge, that I shouldn’t need to share them openly to find happiness.
Jumping on my phone because of a notification, that is not happiness, that is sad. Needing to be reachable at every moment of the day, that is not happiness. It is an addiction. The times I use my phone for calling someone or receiving calls is minimal and yet, it is close to me all the times. To reply to messages or comments and to see what other people are up to. And I am realising, that I don’t need that. I am more than the person I share. A very limited amount of people who will read this (or have the opportunity to read this) has met me in person. The longing and demanding person I am online (or I grew to be online) is very far removed from the person I actually am. I laugh and smile a lot. Rarely cry because EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON. I don’t believe in regrets, but I have some too. I love to dream myself away and sometimes, I lose myself in a daydream. Music triggers good or bad moods. I support some people obsessively. Not only because of their musical talents, but also because of the people they are and the way they touched me.
Another question I asked myself these last days a lot is this: Can I find and keep inner peace if I am less visible online? If I share less and expect less interaction? And I really don’t know the answer, but something tells me that it is probable.
My truth is that I want to touch people with what I say and write, maybe even impress. But I shouldn’t need it. I want people to read my poetry and find a piece of themselves in it. I don’t mean to be desperate for that attention or validation, though.
One last set of questions remains: Who am I when I don’t use all these apps? Am I relevant to this earth when I am not online? Do I even exist?
And with these questions, I do what I always do: I share the link to this post in several different places and wait for a response. Until then…
Be happy. Be kind. Be compassionate. And find reasons to smile.
Xx
Cathy
reflections of an unquiet mind 