Facebookial Suicide

I deactivated my facebook account. I like facebook. It is a big part of my life, as a matter of fact, I use it almost every day. However, I didn’t think of it as a big deal, since you can easily reactivate the account whenever you want to. Well, it turns out to be a very big deal, some people even think that this means I’m suicidal. I’m not. I’m not fine either, I’ve been through a crisis, and yes, closing my account has something to do with the state I’m in, but it is just a website, and I have not deleted it permanently, just put it aside.

 Why did I deactivate it, why not just stop visiting the site? Well… Facebook is a good tool, but whether you are aware of it or not, it is more than a tool. It is exactly what the name says, a Facebook, an image of your character. And if you have an open account but are not active, then other people may put stuff onto your wall (some that you might or might not want there), and thereby reshape your image on the web. People may send you a friend’s request or a personal message, but since you are not there to reply, they may assume that you are ignoring them. There is absolutely no point in an active account if you aren’t there and since I use the site on daily bases, it would give a wrong picture of me.

I use FB mainly to discuss politics and related matters and to stay in touch with friends, (here in Denmark the only people I communicate with is my family.) I needed a break, that’s all. I usually enjoy a good debate and find it interesting to hear other people’s opinion and arguments, but when I’m dealing with overwhelming emotions and most of them negative, I just don’t have the strength to argue my point. Moreover, in complicated matters, I may not even trust my own judgment, so believe it or not, sometimes I think it is just best to remain silent. Not often though, just when I’m down or confused.

And then the pictures. Most of my pictures are two years or older. These pictures don’t show me as I am today and they don’t reflect what is going on in my head. I could have some new pictures taken but I don’t look good anymore so new pictures just add to my disapproval of myself.

It’s crisis, yes, and some people think that going through crisis means disaster. I don’t. If I could decline emotional down beats, I probably would, just like I would say no if I was asked whether or not I wanted to catch a cold, but I’m convinced that in the long run, it would not build me a strong immune system. Facing the debris of who you were and remaking yourself is just an innocuous part of life, at least if you take pride in being anything more than a mere asshole. No one ever promised that shaping your own happiness would be easy.

Most people find it very difficult to admit that they were wrong. It is strange because when you say ‘I was wrong’ it is always past tense. You can’t say ‘I am wrong’ because the very moment you realize that your ideas were based on wrong or limited information or that your argumentation leads to a wrong conclusion, at that very moment you are not wrong anymore. When you say ‘I was right’, you can always add, ‘and I still am’. When you realize that you were wrong, you can add ‘but not anymore’. So this means that in your own reality, you are always right. The only reason why we are so afraid of being wrong is our ridiculous respect for other people’s opinion. The judgment from people, whose sense of reality allows them to tell you that you are wrong. Like their truth about your present has more leverage than yours.

I have lovely friends and I appreciate their friendship. But when you are fragile, even the people you love the most may endanger your well being. Because when it comes to your deepest desire, people will always tell you that you are wrong (until you succeed, then they will say ‘I knew you would make it’ even if their facial expression and tone of voice, always told you something quite different.) Usually not bluntly, at least not if they care for you. In that case, they just benignly indicate that you don’t deserve what you want (since they don’t have what they want themselves, even if they are better than you). Ironically, it is a sign of love that shouldn’t be underestimated. Your loved ones sincerely believe that correcting your ideas of who you are and what you can accomplish is your best interest and then if you start isolating yourself, they think it means that there is something wrong with you. They will not see it as a logical way of protecting yourself from the constant flow of loving bits of advice (unasked for) from people who are not leading the life that you want and certainly not your paragon.

There are many reasons why you may feel inclined to resign from your social life for a few days or weeks and feeling like a failure is one of them. Because in spite of their good intentions, most people just make it worse by helping you to reconcile yourself to the idea of being a failure (just like most people) instead of seeking a different way to success. They will say something like; ‘’We all make mistakes and maybe your goal was just unreachable. Your field of interest is worthless anyway so why not give up on your dreams of saving the world, embracing your talents and finding a soul mate, and settle for meaningless life, a boring job and a relationship that will make your life harder, just like I have done? And then you can spend Sunday 16-18 nurturing your dream.“ No matter how they mask it and how considerate they are, this meaning will always shine through and then we are surprised that depressive people don’t want to socialize.

If you are religious, you can explain your need for solitude by telling them that you need some time with your god. But if you don’t have an ‘excuse’ then people will start worrying about you. It’s good because long-term isolation can be a sign of harmful depression and people should care for one another. But on the other hand, avoiding people can also just mean that you are smart enough to know what is good for you. I am vulnerable at the moment and thinking about the lack of professionalism in Iceland and all the unjust of the world is not good for me. Neither is talking to people who are just going to tell me to give up on my dream of a good relationship and making a living from what they see as a useless hobby.

No I’m not lying in bed, crying and eating a lot of junk food, planning to kill myself. I sleep 12 hours a day, spend a lot of time defining male-kind as ‘hairy things that want to fuck’ or ‘fucking creatures with a thing for hair’ and I don’t get work much done, but eventually I get up every day and I take a shower and I feed the cats. I’m recovering and I will probably reactivate my facebook account in a few days. When I manage to set aside my luxury problems and care for the rest of the world. When I have gathered the strength to tell anyone who feels the urge to convince me that I’m wrong about my way to happiness, to write their good advice on a piece of sandpaper and wipe their poor ass on it. When I redeem the passion to activate the spell.

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