I Hate Facebook

Yes. I have probably said this before. I am going to say it again.

I hate Facebook.

Hate it.

HATE it.

Every single time I sign onto Facebook, something pisses me off and/or angers me.

Why do I keep my Facebook account?

I have asked myself this question SO many times. The answers are always the same.

I have a beautiful grandson. I need to share pictures of him. After all, it would be selfish for me to keep such cuteness to myself. Plus, there are family members (and a few friends)who live in different states that get to keep up with how quickly he is growing because of Facebook.

Likewise, some out of state family members have precious little ones who are related to me. I love seeing their pictures on Facebook. I also have dear friends who have little ones who I would not get to see were it not for Facebook. (Miss Alessia, Mr. Lukie, I miss you guys SO much!)

I also enjoy the groups I belong to on Facebook. I have learned so much through my oily groups, my healthy living groups, my whole foods groups…recipes and other tips are very valuable to me as I strive to gain better health without pharmaceuticals. I find support in the illness groups I belong to on Facebook. It helps to know there actually are people who understand non-judgmentally that MS affects all areas of life. It helps to know others suffer from depression. God knows not many people in my real life understand.

On the other hand, though, Facebook is a horrible place. I see pictures of beautiful places I most likely will never get to go. I see families celebrating holidays and hurt when I think of what will never be in my life with my family of origin. I see political posts, bashing this candidate or that one. I see sad posts…abused animals, starving children, homelessness, and other heartbreaking images that just intensify the depression that grips tightly. Studies have actually been done proving that social media has the potential, and often follows through with said potential, of making one miserable. I’ve seen pictures of pretty sunsets or beautiful countryside that read, “Comparison is the thief of joy.” Yes, and there is no place that promotes comparison more than social media sites such as Facebook. I would dare say that Facebook is designed to promote comparison.

How many friends does that girl who bullied me in high school have? How can she possibly have over one thousand friends while I sit here at ninety-eight?

How many square feet is in the _______________’s new house? Seriously? We can’t stand together in our kitchen.

_____________’s baby is walking already? I wonder if something is wrong with my baby because she is two months older and still is happy to crawl everywhere.

The scenarios could go on and on. Of course, each of us is responsible for our own thoughts. We are not to covet. Jealousy is the green-eyed monster. If I am drooling and jealous of someone because they moved into a nice house, that is a problem with my heart. I get that. I also know that if I am very aware that something is going to be a huge temptation for me, I should probably avoid that thing. I don’t meet friends in a bar. Not because I think having a drink is wrong, but because I know I most likely would not be able to sit in a bar drinking diet Coke while my friends all had a cocktail. And I know I could never have one drink; I would need to drink and drink until I couldn’t see straight. So, I stay out of that situation.

So why do I sign on to Facebook, scroll through my newsfeed, read something that someone posted, and get angry? Why not just ditch the whole thing rather than allow myself to get all worked up? Or, why can’t I just not allow the hurt to get to me? Why is it so hard for me to see Facebook friends understanding something someone else is going through but act condescending toward me for going through the same thing? Why not just delete it?

Good question.

I think the answer, for now, is that Facebook holds more connections for me than real life for the most part. Granted, most of those connections aren’t real connections at all. Most of my Facebook friends don’t bother with me, either on the site or in real life if we see each other. But, again, there are just enough redeeming qualities–for now–of Facebook that it is worth my keeping.

Besides, the Facebook world should not be deprived of my adorable grandson.


About becmom45

Wife of one, mom of four, mom-in-law to two, grammy to one precious little boy; lover of snow, autumn, pumpkins, cats, books, baking, Charles Wysocki puzzles, Christmas; honest, raw author who hopes what is written here enlightens and educates those fortunate enough to not understand the demons chronicled.
This entry was posted in depression, famiy, Grandma, Grandson, loneliness, MS. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to I Hate Facebook

  1. I got off Facebook at the first of the year. Actually vented and wrote a blog post that is pretty funny about the ass fish you find on Facebook.

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