The trash bag
My bedroom wall used to be covered by portraits and anatomy sketches. As a first year teacher, I found the only thing that could quiet my mind was a sketchbook and a good show on Netflix. On weekends, I would draw until my hand cramped up.
One day, I looked up at my wall as I always did. My mind settled on the imperfections of each piece: the eyes of one portrait sat too wide apart, another showed my struggles with creating proper shading, and yet another appeared to be a squashed head instead of the beautiful human head it was supposed to be. I meant this to be a wall to display my accomplishments and work during my free time but instead my mind forced it to be a showcase of my “inability” to draw.
When my husband walked in hours later, I had picked the wall clean and beside me there were two bags full of sketches and paintings. He was upset because he enjoyed them and I felt a momentary twinge of guilt. Guilt not because I may one day regret this but guilt because I had been unaware of his appreciation of my work which now laid crumpled in a trash bag.
Letting go
I admit openly now that my years in college and shortly after college were plagued by anxiety and depression. Every day was one “battle” after another: I would wake up, get dressed and look in the mirror. I would smile and smile again. I would even fake a laugh. I did this because I heard that if you forced yourself to smile and think “happy,” that it really would happen. This sill has not worked for me but I did it every day hoping maybe, someday, somehow it will. Facing the day was always the hardest thing for me to do.
The day I threw all my sketches away, I made steps to take away the things or activities that were chipping away at my life. I had previously limited my use of Reddit and other news related sites by actively blocking them on my browsers and now I was making the biggest move yet: Facebook.
At first, deactivating FB felt strange because I had it since it first came out in 2005. I was not sure how life without it would be like or how it would feel. I briefly looked at all the albums I had. There were thousands of pictures going back 8 years. I looked at my phone which would happily notify me of FB alerts at least 4 times an hour. ‘How will it feel like?’ I thought. ‘What will I do with my little nuggets of time?’
Instagram and Twitter would soon follow removal from my phone but not deactivation. However, I found it was enough to avoid temptations
Nuggets of Time
After the first week, the awkwardness had completely disappeared. I found myself staring at my everyday surroundings with an almost new awareness. I texted/talked to my close friends on an almost daily basis. When I spent time with coworkers outside of work, I could actually enjoy myself. I relished their conversations without distractions or need to check my phone. If my mind did wander, I would admire the way a restaurant was set up, muse on the choice of its decor and even casually strike up conversation with strangers.
I was enjoying myself in the now. I was not comparing myself or honing my online persona by picking the best selfie or crafting the perfect and most witty of status updates. I was not flooding myself with people’s lives, frustrations or dreams (or drama). I no longer had to worry about putting myself in the best light, to be perfect and flawless in the online world especially more now since becoming a teacher.
When I explained this to friends and family, they all seemed baffled in one way or another. My mother would catch herself saying ‘Did you see my new album?’ to which I kindly reminded her that I did not have FB or use Instagram anymore. But in the end, they would also consider that online “break” so that their lives were not be so consumed by everyone and everything.
Transitioning Back
The day after Christmas, I met up with a friend from high school and some of hers at Starbucks. Like everyone else, she casually mentioned about my nonexistent FB. After I explained the situation, we all jumped into a deep, existential discussion about society, education and the state of our own lives. After the Starbucks employees kicked us out at closing time, we headed over to an Irish pub and spent the next two hours talking and making fun of the live band (the singer sounded like a dying cat).
The only time we checked our phones was to either show our creative work or answering phone calls from family. As we finally said our goodbyes, I felt a bit sad at how I may never see most of them again. Then one of the girls suggested, ‘We can always catch up on Facebook -that is, if you decide to log back in.’
I laughed. This whole experience has taught me to live in the moment, make healthier life choices, and appreciate my friends and family so much more. I was honestly afraid of losing that and how much better I was feeling. But I also believe there can be balance. All I can hope for is to not fall back in my old ways and continue on living in the moment.
