Social Media and Self-Flagellation

We’ve all read the articles — or at least the headlines; let’s face it, clicking through is such a chore — that tell us something which ought to be completely obvious: social media causes anxiety in the human animal by way of fostering the habit of comparison between oneself and literally everybody else.

We’re back to that whole ‘the grass is greener’ argument. Part of this is evolutionary. In order to survive, you have to be bigger, stronger, faster, more attractive, a better provider, et-survival-of-the-fittest-cetera. These days it’s less about not being eaten and more about showmanship, and in the grand scale of problems to have, I’m inclined to worry about not having the newest shiny thing rather than whether or not I’m going to become lion chow at any point in the near future. Oh, people still show off their muscle, obviously, but it’s usually as a sideline to some sort of product placement or nutritional plan or exercise regimen rather than “Look at me, I can kill a man with a single blow of my mighty fist and therefore will protect you, and our progeny will be robust.” It’s more than that, though. Our unlimited connectivity to the world and each other has given rise to the opportunity to rub our successes in our friends’ faces and share every single moment of our daily lives with anyone who cares to give us a follow.

There is a societal tradition of gossip journalism, and social media has effectively taken that old horse and put it on steroids. I can call on another adage here: ‘Curiosity killed the cat.’ We do have a choice in all of this, of course. We can chose not to engage. We can chose to do something else with our time. But we are an innately curious species and we want to know what’s going on behind the closed blinds at number 23 across the street. It was easier in the days of check stand tabloids, though — you could skim the cover and get your fix and forgo actually buying the paper itself. It’s harder (not impossible, but harder) to forgo ‘the thing everyone is doing’. As an example, my first Twitter account came about as the result of peer pressure and lots of vodka. I deleted it not too long after, because the platform was new and not that entertaining to me at the time.

When I decided to proceed with this blog thing, I went back to Twitter as a way to (hopefully) reach a wider audience, and it’s a completely different beast now than it was ten years ago. (P.S. Yes, you can follow me on Twitter! @isignalforcows) It has introduced me to a community of writers I would probably never have known existed if I hadn’t decided to embark upon this blog crusade. It’s been incredibly helpful in that arena, and most people will tell you that as a networking/finger-on-the-pulse tool it can be a wonderful thing.

It’s the other side of it I sometimes have trouble with.

I follow a smattering of celebrity-types* because I appreciate their respective bodies of work, or their personal philosophy, or because their tweets are hilarious or sensitive or thought-provoking, or D) all of the above. Normally I’m not too bothered by the things these accounts tweet out because it’s far enough removed from me and my day-to-day that it’s more like a check-in. “Oh, So-and-so is doing a thing, doesn’t that look nice, I hope they’re enjoying themselves!” But I have one outlier, and that’s where the problem is. This person is, in my eyes, That Person Who Has Everything Going For Them All The Time. I know that there’s always the argument that people who seem to have everything and put out that permanently happy vibe can be covering something else, and that’s a very valid argument, but when all you’re allowed to see is the good stuff you focus on that and that’s what makes it an issue. Obviously I’m speaking for myself, here, because I’m sure there are some of you who couldn’t give a rat’s ass about your life in comparison to anyone else’s, and for that I salute you. You are a stronger human being than I. Truthfully, I generally don’t go in for that comparison thing. I’m doing just fine, all things considered. There’s no good reason for me to want more than I have. But this one person knocks me for a loop every. Single. Time.

“So just stop following this person,” I hear you say.

Yes, well, you’d like to think it’s that simple, wouldn’t you? But I have this incessant need to have at least one thing in my life that needles me in a way that’s at the very least uncomfortable. I can be something of a glutton for punishment, but there’s a purpose to it. It makes me strive to be better. In this case it’s this person’s people skills, their management of relationships of all varieties — their partner, their children, extended family, friends and friend’s families, colleagues… It’s an extensive list, believe you me. Bottom line, this person is Very Good at People. I am Very Not Good at People. I am trying to be better. This person is, in part, driving that pursuit. It is not unheard of for me to see one of this person’s tweets and bust out sobbing at the honest, raw, loving purity of it.

“Work on that, you infinite fuck-up,” I tell myself. “If they can do it, you can do it. You’ve never had it because you weren’t taught how, but you’re a grown-ass woman and you can sort that shit out on your own now. You do deserve that, and you can find it. Now stop whining and get the fuck on with it!”

...Though, in the spirit of total honesty, the thing that incenses me the most is the fact that this person is a fucking Critter Whisperer! When I talk to birds, they don’t talk back. This is bullshit!



*I say ‘types’ because if I had to rank my ‘Following’ list the most famous people on it wouldn’t be people at all, they’d be entities like the Monterey Bay Aquarium. Well, that might not be 100% accurate. More people might know who Bruce Campbell is than know about the MBA...