Social media is a blessing to me. I interact with few people in real life, so my internet acquaintances give me a sense of companionship and community.
Yet, I struggle with social media anxiety. I gaze at glowing pages of insightful words. I read and react—internally.
I long to respond, but my thoughts are like a shattered vase. The effort to restore the vase, splinter by splinter, dazzles me. I return to an easier task, usually a visual or intellectual project.
Why do in flit in and out of the social media scene?
Part of it is diminished social need. I don’t reach out, I draw in. I reflect, dissect and recharge. My social interaction capacity is finite and largely consumed by my family. Excess mental energy fuels forays into Twitter, Facebook, and blogdom.
My intolerance of change also impacts my participation in social media. Small events disrupt my equilibrium, fueling anxiety. I freeze up. Liev’s trip to the emergency room left me with a few quivery, obsessive days. Larger occurrences interrupt the flow of my life—I must use all my strength to manage my responsibilities. Little remains for cheery comments or thoughtful dialogue.
Schedule changes, unexpected home maintenance, visits from relatives—despite my reaction to them, these are small changes. A profound change impacts your thinking and outlook. Liev’s autism diagnosis was a profound change.
And now, we face another prodigious change. Like Liev’s autism diagnosis, this will transform our life in wonderful and unexpected ways. I am not managing my online relationships well while I wrestle with new information.
I shall return, soon.