I got back on Facebook tonight. I hadn’t been on in over a year, mainly because it was a major distraction. Surprisingly, I didn’t end up missing it that much. Sure, not getting messages about clubs and social events was at times inconvenient, but I still had email, the phone, and face to face conversations. I could always look at pictures of an event at a friend’s house and instead of writing on people’s walls, I’d just text or call them. It worked out just fine.
Today, I figured that since the school year had ended, it made since for me to log back in so I could stay in touch with people. I really thought that it would be exciting and fun to go through all of the messages, notifications, and photos that I missed, but it wasn’t at all. The interface was hard to navigate, and it was full of things I missed out on. As I read through my inbox full of conversations I hadn’t gotten to be a part of and saw endless pictures of events that I hadn’t been invited to or didn’t attend, I became more and more sad and lonely until I finally ended up sitting in the corner of my room with a sheet over my head crying.
All I wanted to do was hide. Hide from the way that I keep saying things I don’t mean or that cause problems, the way that I keep digging holes for myself and instead of putting the shovel down I just keep digging, the way that my body feels from this new medication change, the way that I’m confused and very, very tired, the way that someone said to me that they had read this blog because they thought it was “funny,” the way that I sometimes stupidly feel like everyone just labels me the “crazy girl” and doesn’t actually like me, the way that all I want is to watch old episodes of The Office and memorize facts about useless information, the way that signing back into Facebook after a year of abstinence just made me feel incredibly lonely and sad, the way my parents say they’re disappointed in me, the way that I can’t stop myself from skipping meals and losing weight, the way that my therapist keeps giving me ultimatums, and the way that I don’t have the energy to care about things that used to be incredibly important to me.
And after five minutes of quiet hiccuping and muted sobs, I had to laugh at myself. Crying really wasn’t going to solve anything. I mean, there is nothing wrong with sitting with a feeling for a little while and being emotional, but you can’t do it perpetually and expect your problems to disappear. I just need to pick myself back up, take the time to recuperate from the medication, have some orange juice and gummies, and keep on trucking. It’s bound to get better.