Okay. I’m saying it. I want to get rid of all my contacts on Facebook who knew me before I got sober. Before I had my feet on solid ground in terms of my mental health recovery. Every time I see a post from someone who only knew me as I was, I cringe.
Part of me wants to just delete everything. Why don’t I? Mostly because I want my grandma to be able to see what I’m doing, and I want to keep in contact with the few friends that have stuck with me. It’s interesting, for those of us who have effectively grown up with social media, it really is an account of our pasts. I joined Facebook in 2009, and I remember doing so even though my mother was slightly skeptical. So the world of the internet holds photos of me at age thirteen, posing with my cat, Sparkles, and making funny faces with my friends. Those were the days before “selfies.”
To my chagrin, Facebook and the rest of social media holds such a record of my existence that I cannot bring myself to delete it. I can’t even “unfriend” all of those people who make me feel ashamed about who I was. Maybe it isn’t bad to have to face my past, almost every single day. It reminds me that it has taken me years to become who I am now. It’s an account of my progress, as well as an account of my imperfections.
I wonder what others see when they look at my posts and my profile. Do they wonder why I left New York? Do they even care that I left school, that I don’t hold a bachelor’s degree and probably will not for a long time? People click “like” when I post pictures on the anniversaries of my parents’ deaths, or even just the cookies that I baked last night. Ultimately, I end up contemplating my social media presence every time I log in. Who is looking, is anyone?
For me, social media heightens my anxiety. If the world were smaller, maybe I would be more able to live in the moment. Instead, I constantly view the lives of old classmates, partners, and friends. When I pick up my phone, my first instinct is to check Facebook, and then Instagram, maybe Twitter. Those pictures, quips, and statuses tell a story. It’s a constant narrative, one that I am still writing.
So can I delete social media, and shrink my world into just where I am and who I care about? It sounds so tempting. I won’t. I need reminders to make me feel grounded. I need the occasional moments of guilt and shame. Without them, I might be tempted to repeat the past.