Facebook Rage: Resolved

I finally did it: I deactivated my Facebook account.

I was finally done with it. Just done. And the pain of keeping the account was more than the pain of deactivating. In a little while, when it's obvious that my world doesn't end because I don't sign in on a daily basis, I will delete my account entirely.

Long-time readers know I coined the term Facebook Rage to describe my inexplicable anger whenever I logged in and spent way too much time sifting through my newsfeed.

Some of you are already way ahead of me. You either never signed up or you have quit before this point. You already know Facebook is a time-suck as well as a great way for advertisers to get to use your information for free. I'm not even going to get into the whole NSA spying thing.

What's more, you already realize that Facebook represents an alternate reality, a reality that exposes everything most shallow about our society.

Some of you can handle Facebook just fine and are not victims of Facebook Rage like I am.

I salute you. All of you. (slow clap of approval)

So what was the final straw for me? It wasn't the fact that I dislike any of my friends, because I don't--even if I heartily disagree with some of them on just about every issue imaginable. It wasn't because I didn't find some downright delicious recipes or hilarious videos. It wasn't because I don't have friends whose status updates aren't clever and humorous or upbeat and informative.

There are two things I hate about the whole social media world (not that I ever use my Twitter account, and I'm not even signed up for any other social media sites): the fact that a relationship on social media is so often different than a relationship with the same person face-to-face; and the culture of unthinking impulsivity that social media encourages.

The first hate point is particularly repugnant to me. I am not a child of the digital age, and when I was a teen in the '80s, if you wanted to build a relationship with someone, you had to put time and effort into it. You had to spend time together, talk about things, get to know and accept each others' quirks and flaws, and celebrate each others' strengths. If you were too far away to see each other in person, you had to write letters (snail mail!) or make a phone call (on a rotary phone!).

In short, it took a lot of deliberate thought and consideration to create and maintain a friendship. Sometimes it was worth it and you worked at it, and sometimes people slipped out of your life because you either couldn't or wouldn't keep it up. It was just the way of things.

These days, I have Facebook friends from every single era of my life since I was four years old. I have friends from every place I've ever lived, every major activity I've ever been involved in, and every maturity level I have reached. People who had once slipped away from my life have been restored. Huzzah! But what kind of relationship do I have with these hundreds of people? How much time do I (or they) have to maintain more than the most superficial of acquaintances? For some, it's enough to know you can reach out and say hello whenever you want. But for me, that superficiality is just painful.

Even worse (for me) is having a relationship with someone on Facebook that doesn't match up to real life. With people I know right now, that I see in my neighborhood and in my community and at church, there is often this dichotomy. We may interact digitally, but there is no continuation of that in real life. When you meet that same person face-to-face, there won't be a lot of talking or carrying on. A couple of them walk right on by without saying anything at all (I am, of course, not counting times when such people are busy and can't stop)!

The nature of Facebook and other social media is that it keeps relationships and communication slightly impersonal, and you don't necessarily want to see one of your Facebook friends in real life if you're not really interested in putting effort into a real relationship. It's so much easier to keep it online--safe and sequestered from the sometimes less-than-simple nuances of real life.

I accept that. Fine. But it drives me absolutely nuts, and I will not have it for myself anymore. If we wouldn't be friends in real life, then why are we pretending in the digital world? Screw the digital shadow. I'd rather keep it 100% real.

My second hate point is how much social media in particular seems to have stopped people from evolving into thoughtful, considerate, critically thinking beings. Or, rather, how the social media culture has encouraged us all to be creatures of unthinking impulsivity. What I mean by this is that it's so easy to get caught up in the immediate reaction, the instant emotion. Some controversial news story or status update pops up, and immediately you feel the need to respond.

Because social media also allows each of us to share our opinions over and over, we get used to this freedom to never have to sit down, think it through, and then wisely decide if your opinion (and corresponding emotion) is valid or not before sharing it over and over again. We've elevated our personal opinions to celebrity status.

Facebook is the first and best school for knee-jerk reactions. I've been a knee-jerker more than once, and I have despised myself for it every single time. Did I really think I was going to change someone else's opinion about something by ranting about it? Has anyone else's knee-jerk reaction ever changed my own opinion?

This may make me sound absolutely callous, but I really couldn't care less about 600+ peoples' opinions on all the minutiae of life, on the latest trending news stories in all their salacious or controversial glory, or whether or not my personal opinions are acceptable to anyone else. When I want someone's opinion, I have asked for it. I decided, too, that if I don't care for everyone else's unsolicited opinions on absolutely everything, I would no longer clutter up the timeline with my own.

Lastly, of course, is that Facebook takes up far too much of my time. So if you haven't read this and you ask me why I deactivated my account, that's what I'll tell you.

For the people whose friendship I wish to continue to actively cultivate, I have email addresses (if they live far away), or I will be more than happy when I see them in person around town or in the neighborhood or at church, and if they're amenable, we'll have a little chat.