My Facebook Fast

A week ago tomorrow I was done.  Absolutely finished.  I couldn't stand one more minute on Facebook.  So I decided to take a break.

I didn't start out planning to be off for a week.  Just a few days to cleanse my system.  It was making me anxious.  I was feeling social pressure (that probably wasn't even there but was just in my own head).  I felt compelled to like this or comment on that to make sure she knew I was reading her stuff or he knew I still paid attention to his life or she felt like I liked her.  Seriously, it was ridiculous.

I was not feeling peace.  I wasn't acting; I was reacting.  I wasn't being true to myself.  And I am not okay with that.

So I announced my departure and went away.

And very soon I was anxious about being away.  I missed it terribly.  And I started to wonder why.  I started to examine my feelings and their causes.  Why was I uncomfortable being away?  What was it that Facebook was fulfilling in me that pulled me back even though it had been causing me negative feelings?

So I spent the next few days watching my own behavior and paying attention to the pull.

This is what I learned.

The thing I missed most was knowing what was going on in my friends' lives, especially within my own neighborhood.  I missed knowing when a friend was having a bad day or hurting.  I missed knowing who was having a birthday that day.  I missed knowing when someone in my neighborhood needed help.  Facebook has opened up communication in a way that just wasn't there before.  People share more.  I can get the info immediately or whenever it's convenient for me.  We can have a communal conversation over several days.  It's awesome like that.

But the flip side of it is over sharing or people sharing things I just don't want in my life.  Political/religious disagreements.  Posts with the F word.  Griping/whining in a victim-y way, with the same complaints over and over with no intention to try to make their own world better.  Pity parties.  Sexual images and/or status updates.  Non-stop selfies.  Contentious behavior of all kinds.  And certain people who just rub me the wrong way no matter what whom I hid from my feed but then they show up anyway because one of our friends in common likes or comments on their post.  I didn't miss those things.

Of secondary importance, I felt like I lost my voice.  My ability to communicate with the world was severely diminished.  Many times a day I wanted to share something and didn't.  I think this was the most important area for me to evaluate and an area I still need to work on.

I've always been curious.  I find many things interesting and always have.  Growing up I used to talk all the time -- ALL THE TIME!  I made people crazy.  I could sometimes sense it but didn't understand why.  The things I was saying were so interesting (I thought).  I don't remember how old I was when I finally understood (but it was probably much older than I should have been).  I don't remember what happened to precipitate it, but I remember distinctly realizing that I didn't need to share every thought that popped into my head.  In fact, it made people crazy that I did that.  It was truly an awakening moment for me.  It's taken years for me to learn to be quiet, because my brain never shuts up.  (It was many more years after that before I learned that other people want to share, too, and it's so important to listen.)

Facebook has been this lesson all over again.  I find so many things interesting in a day.  I have so many thoughts that I think are incredibly clever.  So many observations I find fascinating.  So many news stories I think are noteworthy and/or important.  I want to share them all.  And some days I know I'm sharing more on Facebook than others want to read/know, but I just can't stop myself.  I can hear people rolling their eyes at me when I post the third news article in a 15 minute time span.  To all of you who are my Facebook friends, please know I do try and I do censor and you aren't getting half the things I want to share.  You're welcome.

And it would be bad enough if that were my only sharing problem, but it isn't.  I started paying attention to the status updates I wanted to post.  So often this last week I found myself wanting to post snotty or complaining status updates.  The kind of communication that has become so much a part of our society.  The kind of communication that takes place on so many of today's TV shows that it's just become how we communicate with each other.  The kind of communication that's flippant and sarcastic, that we've all come to accept as appropriate humor.  The kind of communication that isn't Christlike or kind or sincere.

I don't want that to be my communication style.

Facebook is just too easy and quick and removed.  I don't have to think through, censor, or see the reaction to my thoughts the way I should.

I also missed seeing the updates from my daughter who is on a mission and knowing she's still okay.  That was hard on my heart.

There are lots of other things I missed and lots of other things I didn't miss at all.

So am I ready to get back on?  Kind of.

I still don't feel sure of my ability to regulate my behavior in a way that will bring me peace.  So I'm going to ease into it.  Tomorrow I will begin reading Facebook again.  I will communicate through the private message system about important things.  I will like my missionary daughter's posts so she knows I'm seeing them.  But I will not "like" any other posts.  I will not comment on any other posts.  I will strive to be an observer for a while as I continue to examine my thoughts and feelings.

When I feel like I can be true to myself and behave in a way that brings peace to my heart, I will participate fully again.  Until then, I'm going to practice observing and listening.

Seeing in the Dark

A couple of weeks ago my PTSD was triggered.  Enough that it was making my life difficult.  I was putting on a good front, but inside I was in turmoil.  There was intense fear, uncertainty, lack of direction, inability to communicate, and an overwhelming desire to hide.  My mind was obsessed with thoughts of an experience from my past.  It was trying to process things that still aren't clear.  And I was in a state of panic that I couldn't get out of.

I spent a couple of days in this state.  I tried to relax my mind and focus on other things.  I tried to distract myself out of it.  I tried various calming techniques, including meds.  But it wouldn't go away.

And in the back of my mind I kept thinking, "Maybe you should try to see this."

My word for the year is see.  While I did my best to define it in that post, there is more to it than I was able to say.  There is an element that can't be explained but is understood in my heart.

Finally, on the third day out, I decided I was ready to try.  But I didn't really know how.  When I'm trying to see a positive moment I try to be more present.  More in the moment so I can see and feel the things I was missing that I want to experience.

But the memory that triggered me was something I didn't want to be more present in.  It was something I didn't want to experience more.  How could I see it?

When I know I'm headed in the right direction but am not sure how to proceed, I pray.  I ask Him to help me see the next step.  Then, whether I understand or not, I take that next step.  It's worked beautifully for me many times throughout my life.  But I only ask if I am really willing to take the next step no matter what it is.  That's why it took me three days.  I wasn't ready until then.

This is a deep and powerful experience for me.  I will try to share it in a way that is honest but also respects the sanctity I feel about it.

I knelt in prayer and conversed with God.  I told Him I was afraid but was willing to see and know what I needed to in order to heal.  I opened my heart in willingness to learn more and take whatever step was directed.  I expressed my fear.  He expressed His love.

And I saw that past experience with new eyes.  With new understanding.  It only took a few moments with God to find the peace I'd longed for. 

It doesn't always work this way.  Often my prayers are one-way communication, usually due to my rushing and being disconnected.  Sometimes prayer after prayer seems to go unanswered.  Or I don't see the answer.  But other times I open my heart enough that we are truly together in conversation.  I pour out my heart and then He fills it.  This was one of those moments.

I was filled with calm.  I knew I was on the right path.  And he told me something I needed to hear, "Your role is so important."

I think that will get me through just about anything.

I Love Getting Intimate

Verbally, that is.

I love the one-on-one conversation.  Face to face.  Eye to eye.  Soul to soul.

It's best when there will be no interruptions.  And it only really works when both participants are interested.

But when two people choose to be honest with each other, open about who they are and how they feel, trusting that they are loved and accepted by the other person -- it's magical!

It can be deep.  It can be shallow.  It just needs to be real in order to have power.

When I am fortunate enough to have conversation like this, I am more.  I am more because this person chose to give of themselves to me.  They gave me part of who they are.  Usually, a tender part.  A precious part.

And when this part is added to all that I am, I grow. 

It takes a brave soul to allow others to see them purely.  To see them unvarnished.  Uncovered.  Open.  Flaws and all.

And only through conversations like this can we truly come to know that it is the flaws that make us beautiful.

It's Not You; It's Me.

How many times, in how many movies or tv shows, have I heard this?  It must be hundreds.  It's the ultimate break up cliche'.  It seems to be the universal easy way out, true or not.  In fact, it's usually understood by the audience to be completely false.

(I heard a more honest interpretation of this recently on Farscape.  "It's not you; it's me.  I don't like you."  Nice.)

It's about letting the person down easy, so as not to make them feel bad about themselves.  A way to deliver bad news in a good way.  Theoretically.

In a similar vein, we often hear or say the phrase "It's nothing personal."  Somehow we think that by saying this, what we say won't be hurtful.  But it is always coupled with something that could be hurtful.  And we usually assume the phrase to be a lie.  It's understood that "It's nothing personal" means I'm going to tell you something I don't like about you.

And if verbal communication weren't confusing enough, let's add in non-verbal language.  I know men want to believe this doesn't exist, but we women often hear it much louder than what you're saying.  You know, "actions speak louder than words."  And we do take those actions personally.

I postulate that we do so far more often than we should. 

Consider a recent visit to our marriage therapist:
Me:  When he continually blows off commitments that he's made to me, I feel like I don't matter to him.
Therapist:  Can I get you to consider that may not really be what it means?

Now, I don't think I shouted back the colorful expletive that I was thinking, but I can't be sure.  Temporary insanity is often a part of couples therapy for me.  Suffice it to say, my emotional response was  "Um . . . NO!"

But I've come to realize lately that it's not uncommon for me to feel hurt when someone does something that I should have known they would do.  It's in their nature.  It's who they are.  Maybe not forever.  Maybe they have the power to change.  But for now, it's who they are. 

I send an email to a friend.  He doesn't reply.  It was an important email.  I know he regularly reads his email.  He doesn't reply because I'm not important to him.  (See the natural flow of reasoning that makes total sense?)

In truth, this person is notoriously bad at responding to emails.  And when they are important he likes to think about them for a while before responding.  And although he has good intentions and always flags them for later response, follow through is nowhere near 100%.

It's not me.  It's him.

And frequently, people have thought that I was mad at them or there was some problem in our relationship because I didn't return their phone calls.  Not true.  I just stink at returning phone calls.  I hate the phone.  I hate calling people.  No matter who they are.  Returning phone calls -- not my thing.  It's me.  Not you.

So does learning this change my response to our therapist?  Does it get my husband off the hook?

*colorful expletive suppressed*

Um . . . no.  My awarenesses have their limits and husbands have their own set of rules.

You Can't Handle the Truth!

How are you?

No, really.  How are you?

I would ask two questions in regard to the above inquiry.  First, how often do you mean it when you say it?  And second, how often do you answer honestly?

This questions bugs me.  It bugs me because it's another example of the sloppiness of the English language.  Most of the time it isn't an actual question as to how your life is going or how you are feeling, it is a way to say hi.  I don't like it when words are used in a way that they don't really mean what they say.  Clear as mud?

I try to mean it when I say it.  Partly because I like to be precise in my communication and partly because I think everyone needs a whole lot more listening ears and hearts in their lives.

So, onto the answering part.

This question has posed problems for me.  I would say that it got especially difficult when I started working with a bunch of therapists, and they meant it.  It was probably the first time in my life that I really felt like anyone around me wanted to know how I was out of true concern for me, not out of a desire to assess whether or not they could ask me to do something for them.

And then it got worse when I started seeing a therapist professionally.  And worse when I got my never-ending headache.  At this point I had no idea what this question really meant or how I should answer it.

Let me clarify by saying that I believe in being honest.  I try very hard to be honest in every situation.  (Partly out of the perfectionism issue.)

So suddenly people were asking me how I was and fine was no longer a default answer.  Often I wasn't fine, but I also wasn't sure who really wanted to know.  I confess that I erred a great deal here.  I tend to over-share.  I gave out more information than many people wanted.

I think I've improved some.  I think I fliter a little better.  But I still sometimes offer the truth even when I know people don't want it.

My favorite place is in the checkout line at the grocery store.  It goes something like this:
"How are you?"
"I'm really tired and cranky and trying not to kill people.  How are you?"

Now, some people barely notice and move on.  Others admit that it's the most honest answer they've heard all day.  And others say that they are, too, and we share a moment of bonding.  They have just been given permission to be honest, to drop the smile and be true to themselves in the moment. 

And then I am a little better.  Funny how sharing true emotion for just a second with a nearly complete stranger can be so cleansing.  You should try it.

So, how are you?

My Envy of Video Game Characters

Okay, let's forget the fact that video game characters usually get more than one life.  That's a given for envy right there.

I am not a big gamer, but I've played a few.  And today I decided that I'd like to be a video game character.

I feel miserable.  My head hurts.  I'm exhausted.  And emotionally I've got the blahs.  What do I do now?

First, those things are not immediately visible to others.  That means others keep needing me, bugging me, asking me, telling me, whatever.  However, if I were a video game character I would have nice little bars that follow me around. 

I would have one for pain; it would be black.  When it's high, it means I'm in bad pain so I can't do everything I usually can until that is taken care of.  Either people would ask less of me or they would try to bring my pain down. 

I would have one for energy; it would be green.  And when it's low people would understand why I can't go do things with them without getting their feelings hurt.

I would definitely have one for emotional stability; it would be shades of red.  High (light pink) - let's play.  Low (cranberry) - baby me.  Flashing blood red - better run!

And better than all of that, just imagine how much simpler life would be if you had a "hint" button.  Don't know what to make for dinner?  Hit the hint button.  Don't know whether or not you need to take your child to the doctor for this?  Hit the hint button.  Don't know the right response when someone is yelling at you?  Hit the hint button.  The possibilities are endless.

Plus, others in my life could use the hint button to find out how to help -- and they would score points for it!

And for sure, I would want someone to write a full-blown cheat for me.  Enter this code and all levels immediately reach optimum, including clean house and full bank account.

But, alas, I'm not a video game character.  At least not outside my own head.  But in my head I call myself . . .