I think I have figured out over the last month how I want my presence on social media to be. I have gone from the initial break from it as very hard, bad withdrawl-like, to being completely content with it, to becoming clear on how I need to use it. I hope so anyway. So I think I will be back.
In a capacity where I know I do not have to rely on it as much as I had, and I will use it to direct people here. It is a necessary evil these days though. Perhaps I'm relapsing on my convictions and I will fall back into it. But I think I did it because I was falling apart in other ways where these places were only feeding those things. I needed to at the time, and now I'm a bit over it and I might be able to stand it all again. Few have noticed my departure and fewer it matters to. Perhaps I needed a break. I see it as a reevaluation of what I need it for, what to use it for and how. How it's going to help me and not hurt. I know we're talking about social media but most days it's my only connection and those connections sometimes hurt more than help. It's a crutch and a drug if you let it and I was falling down a deep dark hole emotionally from other outside forces and being exposed to it and having it shoved down my throat and into my eyeballs every day was doing the most damage. I had to remove myself and get into a better place.
Things haven't gotten better physically or situation wise but I've once again, learned to adapt. It's like an amputation. You learn to live with that part missing again. You learn to live in your car, you learn to not shower all the time, you learn you can't go places you used to go or eat what you want all the time. You learn to drink to get through the night until the day where you can forget it at work and dread going home where you must face your problems again, so you drown them and let it fast-forward until you can do something about them or accept you can't change the past but figure out a concrete way to fix it.
It's also like moving to a place you don't belong at first and don't want to be. You hate it for a time, some instances a long time. But time heals as much as it can. I always despised that phrase as it's not healing, there's still something missing and immense scars are left in most cases, but you learn to live with the scars. So perhaps scarring is the term? But it's like moving, it takes a long time. You don't ever feel at home, but you get used to it, because you are someone who can persevere. You are a fighter. Each time it's harder and takes another chunk of your fucking leg or chest or head, but it scars up and it looks fucked up, but you're alive, and you're here. You had a place to sleep you are familiar with, it certainly isn't home, but familiar.
And that's all you can ask for I guess.