It struck me last week whilst briefly scrolling through a bunch of Facebook profiles that perspective is really important. The said profiles were some people I used to know quite well, others not so much. My grasp on my own perspective is often challenged when I flitter through the social media profiles of people who once were part of my own life. There’s something obviously voyeuristic about rattling through old photos that don’t belong to you but are in the public domain. But the voyeurism isn’t what brought this blog post to the table.
I think there’s something in my own psyche that makes me constantly question myself. This includes my personality traits, my achievements, my creativity and my relationships with others. I often find myself being really down and hard on myself, key traits include thinking such phrases as “Why am I not writing more?” or “I haven’t made enough films.” or “I should be reading more books” or “I’ve lost touch with too many friends and it’s too late to get them back”. It’s quite sad but I’m sure everyone does it, I guess I’m just not privy to everybody else’s subconscious and inner-workings. Social media and trawling through old memories of your own and others’ definitely brings this out of me, it’s partly the reason I deactivated Facebook for two years. I often wonder if it’s jealousy but it isn’t, it’s something beyond that.
One of the people who’s profile I was endlessly scrolling through now has two children and is married. Now we all do that typical comparison and wonder “Hmm. Maybe I should have kids and be hooked up”. For me it isn’t so much that, it’s the fear of the mundanity of that. I’m someone who gets bored at the best of times and constantly trying to work out my own shit. So the thought of a family and the stereotypical suburban picture is something that I find slightly ominous. I definitely want those things but they are indeed frightening. Packed lunches, painting with the kids, family holidays, the inevitable growing up, moving out, moving back in, becoming a voyeur of your children’s lives and seeing them get married and go through that same scary process.
Then another thought struck me. What if we weren’t bound by the social voyeurism that we clearly value so dearly? What if we didn’t look through other peoples’ photos and posts? I claim to not be comparing myself to others but I’m not really living my own life and enjoying a unique existence if everything I do, say, post and think about is shaped by Facebook or Instagram. And by the way, none of these thoughts are unique right now. Since the inception of social media, people have discussed the detrimental effect it has on us, young people especially.
It also got me thinking once again that I am addicted to my phone. It is never out of sight. What the fuck am I doing on it anyway? Aside from being a voyeur and driving myself ever so lightly mad by feeling somehow inadequate or scared at the possibility of familial life, it adds little value. I scroll on Twitter and become angry at political issues. I scroll on Instagram and get said when I see someone I used to be friends with or I’ll do what I’ve described on Facebook. There’s nothing meaningful and like a fine wood chipper, it is slowly eating away at not just my surface, but my core too. I think the most intelligent thing to do and the most valuable is to switch off the phone at crucial times. Watching films, which are all about escapism, becomes an opportunity to pick up my phone too. And this is toxic for me, as someone who craves and geeks out over cinema.
A final thought on this is that maybe we can never really switch off. Hell, I can turn my phone off for a few hours or even days but it’ll certainly be back on again. The apps are meant to be thumbed through, the instant gratification of a notification or a vibration is meant to be desired. There’s a part of me that longs for an internet shutdown where we all read books all day and talk to our loved ones more. Then again maybe that’s me trying to hide away and not confront the present. For me, I think the answer lies in looking forward and changing my own nature.