Shifting Tides of Life
I deleted my Facebook account about five minutes ago.
The feeling was exquisite. There is a sensation of lightness within, like the relinquishment of a clunky burden.
It was an impulsive decision in execution, though I have been considering this for a while.
I spend entirely too much time on there, not even truly engaged. Staring at the screen like a zombie. Hiding from my responsibilities. Hiding from everything.
It has been a recurring and noteworthy frustration in my life, to remove that which excessively consumes my time and life-force, rather than adjust myself to the vibe of moderation.
I’d technically rather practice moderation than have to cut myself off (from Facebook, or videogames, or Netflix, mind altering substances, or porn, whatever else…), but utter abstinence seems to be the best way to modify my behaviors accordingly.
Actually, this all reminds me of a theory I was working on back in my days as a human services student. Called “the deactivation principle.”
Why is it that someone can be consumed by an addiction to check their Facebook account several dozen times or more a day, but if they deactivate or delete their account, that compulsion is interrupted?
I mean, all you have to do to re-activate your account is log in. Even in my case of permanent deletion, I can abort the process and restore my account by logging in within the next thirty days. It’s no more difficult than signing in on any other occasion.
So why and how does the simple fact that the account has been deactivated or deleted interrupt the pattern of compulsory use?
Your guess is as good as mine.
I used to think, back when I was training to treat people with addictions, that perhaps the deactivation principle could be applied to other compulsory behaviors as well.
Wouldn’t it be nice to delete your account with addiction?
Oh well. At any rate…
I’m currently endeavoring to restructure my life.
A full-time employment opportunity has emerged, and it looks like that’s probably going to work out. The employer is a vocational rehabilitation organization; they help people return to work despite barriers like disabilities and other problems.
I’ve been out of work since 2015 and have felt unemployable for most of that time, due to major depressive disorder and general anxiety disorder.
So, this could be perfect. Granted, going from sleeping all day (when not on Facebook) to full-time work might seem daunting, but the extended season of stagnation in my life has certainly created a degree of fiery passion for change.
From here, I can start to imagine getting my own apartment and having some sort of life (for the past couple years I’ve lived with family, and it’s been a bumpy ride for all of us).
I’m not sure about my relationship with writing, right now. This blog will cease to exist next month unless I pay the bill. So I just gotta ask myself, do I have a reason to keep paying the bill? Does this site serve a purpose anymore?
I’m not sure yet. Guess we’ll find out.
I am sure I’ll return to writing eventually, but I need to have a point to what I am doing. Right now, I am not sure there is one, other than for self-expression’s sake.
Originally published at Andrew L. Hicks.