I
left twitter, hardly in a blaze of glory more like a damp squib.
The
reasons seemed clear in my head at the time, I was living vicariously through
others and not living my own life not leaving my chair. I was too reliant on
others for my mood, my own happiness. In my mind though I wasn’t giving
anything back, constant tweets of misery were annoying me if no one else.
So
what did I expect to happen when I deactivated my account along with my FB
account? Was a burden to be lifted? Would I wake up the next day magically
‘cured’?
I
know it’s hard to believe but none of those things happened. I didn’t feel any
different. I didn’t spring out of bed throw on my clothes and whistle a merry
tune as I left for work.
Nope
I got up, got dressed and sat in my house. The only thing that had changed was
I’d lost pretty much my only contact with the outside world.
This
was fine it was my choice I had wanted to run away. You see you can’t feel
you’re annoying people if you don’t speak to them. There was a slight flaw to
my plan, I say slight flaw, my plan was actually as ill conceived as the Charge
of the Light Brigade. What about the people who had my phone number?? Yeah well as I
say I hadn’t really thought this one through.
Now
don’t get me wrong there weren’t hoards of people knocking down my door
demanding to know where and how I was, Royal Mail didn’t have to lay on extra
staff to deal with the sackfulls of post.
There
were and are however a few kind souls who showed their concern. At one point I
did consider turning my phone off to avoid contact with everyone apart from
those unfortunate to live with me. I didn’t and am glad of this.
So
with all this extra time on my hands what have I learned? Well I know social
media isn’t the thing stopping me from functioning. I know Prozac hasn’t helped
me and so it’s on to another type of Anti Depressant to try to help. I know I’m amazed at
the kindness that family, friends and what were initially complete strangers have
shown. I also know I can still knock up a mean cake when I want to, it seems
there are some things you never lose through it all.
I
have tried to rationalise everything out but have come up empty handed, raising
more questions than answers. It seems a year spent studying philosophy wasn’t a
complete waste of time.
I
decided I believed in Determinism but then I again I would wouldn’t I (there’s
one for the philosophers amongst you.)
Apart
from that I’m still struggling. I think essentially I’m looking for an
identity. I don’t know who or what I am.
Yes
I’m a dad, a husband, a son, a friend, and a sometime baker. These though are
governed by the relationship to other people or other things. Who and what am
I?
I
have no tribe to belong to I’m not religious. They say football is a religion
and I used to believe I was a fanatic but not so much anymore.
I
don’t have a ‘look’ I don’t dress or style my hair in a tell tale way. I don’t
have tattoos or piercings that would place in an exclusive club.
I
read, when I can concentrate, different genres. The same can be said for films
and TV programmes. And with music, anything and everything goes. The word for
me is eclectic, I like a shitload of different things (I’m not sure that’s the
correct collective noun but it seems to fit.)
The
question is do I really want to fit in to a type, a club? Isn’t individuality
enough, shouldn’t we be non-conformist. The answer is I really don’t know (see
as I said – no answers.)
At
University I wrote my dissertation on why people join right wing movements.
Don’t worry I’m not goose-stepping round the house, although my comb over and
dodgy tache do look vaguely familiar.
The
conclusion I came to in its simplest form being ‘mans’ fear of freedom, the
necessity to belong to something, anything. We just need to be told what to do,
to have some kind of direction.
I don't think I've ever had that I've never known what I’m going to be when I grow up.
I
think the problem, much to my dismay is that at 40 I suppose I am grown up but
I’m still as clueless as the boy who never had a burning desire to be a pilot
or a train driver.
So
I’m giving up philosophising about things it’s getting me nowhere. Instead I’m
trying to function again, doing little things each day that are deemed normal
by my peers.
Todays
‘thing’ is writing this nonsense.
Oh
I still have my fixations, currently it’s on having a slick back haircut, I’ve
even ordered Pomade from a shop online. Maybe I am slowly trying to join a club and declared to my long-suffering wife that this new ‘look’ was going to be me now
until death.
So
I may return to twitter, I’m already back on Instagram posting dull
photos of food.
I
do feel however I’m slightly more suited to some form of Unsocial media though.
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