This image is in the window of the Susan Inglett Gallery in Chelsea, which is currently featuring the work of Benjamin Degen. I’ve no connection to either other than proximity, and this caught my eye when I walked by because I am a snowflake.
I feel like I need to take a break from Facebook. I recognize the banality of writing this on a page that will post directly to Facebook, and I know that you know that I won’t be taking this break any time soon. But I will restructure my relationship with it. And by “it” I mean my personal page, not the other one.
The reason is not just that it is a rabbit hole, because many positive things have come of this rabbit hole—friendships, freelance projects, crowd-sourcing to find the best vacuum cleaner for my budget, learning that the color of my shirt + the last thing I ate = my indie band name. (Black Muffuletta). And don’t get me started on birthdays!!!
The more pressing reason is that it has become a repository for our collective gloom and I am an emotional sponge. In person, this doesn’t always mean that I read the emotions I’m perceiving correctly, but on Facebook it is all right there. Or at least a version of it is. And as annoying as this may be, I can’t help but care.
We’re going through stuff on the home front, as you know – the Louie situation would be challenging no matter who were President and no matter what else was going on in my life, and I am not at all sure that those were/was decisions were correct. But the Louie situation is a drop in the ocean of the things people I care about are going through right now.
I have a fairly large bandwidth when it comes to emotional support, I try to have one when it comes to practical support, but I am not always able to. So if we are Facebook or real-life friends and we are in the midst of a conversation, please know that this is not at all about you. But just skimming the site one can’t help but absorb the fact that the world is in pain. The Vague-booking, the Go Fund Me’s, the re-post this if you care about thats, the senior dogs who were abandoned with their favorite toy, I can”t help but latch right on to all of that, as though sadness were iron filings and I a colossal magnet.
I’ve had disturbing dreams the past couple of nights and have woken up feeling gloomy. And that ain’t fun—there is plenty to be gloomy about without this ambiguous, generalized angst. It is CERTAINLY not all because of Facebook – life is a difficult journey (eyeroll) under “perfect” circumstances – but I can’t help but think that I am absorbing even more than I realize.
I like supporting others. I have spent a fair amount of time with depression and uncertainty and grief, and I refuse to believe that this was all in vain; I’ve learned a lot and if my experiences can in any way help anybody who is going through anything, I am honored to be able to share them and offer whatever wisdom I can.
Upshot: Call me if you need me. I’ll see you on Facebook.