I have been suffering from something I've finally named Facebook Rage. It's kind of like Road Rage, except that I'm sitting at home looking at my computer screen and no one is in danger of getting shot. It's just this formless, burning heat of rage I inexplicably feel whenever I open up my Facebook account. It's not even directed at anyone except, maybe, myself.
Bear with me as I work this out aloud, as it were.
Obviously, social networking sites like Facebook have changed how we interact with each other. We can now tell each other everything about our lives without the need to see someone in person or write a letter, and we all share, share, share. We share our triumphs and our sadnesses. We share pictures of our dinners and our passing thoughts and our funny experiences. We share inspirational quotes or quotes designed to make a point about our particular beliefs. We share our photos of family and friends and the good times we're having. We share our opinions about politics and social issues. And then we don't just share, but we want feedback and we want to respond to things others have shared. We share what we think about what others have shared.
It's like having hundreds of people simultaneously demanding your attention. You never know if it's going to be something important or something completely and utterly insignificant, but the voices are all there, clamoring away in your head. For an introvert--even an introvert with the ability to operate pretty well in an extrovert's world--it's a nightmare. For someone who is empathetic and concerned about a friend's well-being, learning of so many sorrows and worries without being able to solve them is stressful and also a nightmare.
I'm not saying it's wrong to share all that and enjoy hearing from others. If I don't like it, no one is forcing me to log on, right? I have a choice about having my own account and whether or not I choose to spend some of my time scrolling through my news feed and giving my "likes" and making a comment here and there. So what is my problem?
I think my problem is the culture that social networking has fostered. In general, we are simultaneously more open about everything in our lives while drawing further and further away from physical interaction. You can have a relationship with someone on Facebook that is completely different than the one you have in real life. You might laugh and joke online with a Facebook friend who lives near you but barely take the time to speak to each other at church or at the grocery store. While we deliberately share so much online, we also work to reduce our face time with the same people who are our Facebook friends. We say it's because we're too busy anymore, but I think there's another issue going on here.
Social networking allows us the psychological comfort of creating a persona that we like. Remember the old Jetsons cartoon, where phone calls were like Skype? How futuristic! But when Mrs. Jetson received a call from someone before she had had a chance to put herself together for the day, she grabbed her handy mask and held it in front of her face. The caller saw her as perfectly made up and carefully coiffed when the reality was that she'd just rolled out of bed.
Our social networking lives are like the mask Mrs. Jetson wore. We get to choose how we present ourselves, sharing some things and keeping other things hidden, but it's all under the guise that we're being open and honest about everything. I think it's affecting us, this strain to retain a carefully crafted image against the possibility that people will see the real, messy mix of contradictions that makes up who each of us we really is.
Or maybe it's just me. This could all be coming from my own very personal perspective of both hating and loving being known. After all, I write this blog, which suits my extrovert tendencies, but I don't advertise it, which suits my introverted (and definitely dominant) self. I only know if someone reads anything I write on this blog if they leave a comment or tell me in person. And I'm fine with that. I certainly don't share more than a fraction of what I'm really grappling with in my head and heart on this blog, and I delete more than I post. If you don't know me at all, I can choose what you do know about me. You might make guesses and assumptions about me based on what I write and how I write it, and you may be right or wrong about those guesses, but until I meet you and you know me well, it's all just conjecture. I control the content. Sometimes I like that, and sometimes I'm done with it entirely. That includes Facebook.
Bleah. I'm not sure how to wrap this up, and now I need to run off and drive a couple of the girls somewhere they need to go. Seems like a good enough reason to quit abruptly and get away from all this deep thinking. I haven't even adequately addressed the Facebook Rage issue. I'll leave that to you, gentle reader, to come to your own conclusions.
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