Life After Facebook

July 13, 2013

I can’t quite put my finger on this stick. I do know the meaning of the words I wrote, I remember meanings from the past, but right here, right in this moment — what am I saying? What am I experiencing?

Mess, mostly. Confusion. Noise.

There are many things that have been happening lately. There were people here, in my home. There were my reactions to those people. There was trauma coming up, there was me falling unconscious, spacing out to a certain extent, desensitizing myself to life in self defense. Then there was the realization of what I’ve been doing, the returning awareness and the inevitable pain. And, even more inevitable, anger. Then I deleted my Facebook account.

A monumental step, isn’t it? It is, even though it shouldn’t be. It is “only an online app” but it is also an orientation. A constant, all-pervasing orientation outside, outward. It is a scene, and my life becomes the show, a show I play willingly. I experience things to share them, I see things to post them, I create things to market them…

And that, at this moment, on this level is as close to the center, as close to the point of those words as I can get: it is called MY LIFE for a reason.

It is also called my art. It is call my creation. But it wasn’t, I realized with some dismay that my trauma, my discomfort, my recent defenses were not only against people being physically in my space, but against my life being reoriented to accommodate people. To accommodate others. About my art being reoriented to create for others. About my writing being reoriented to communicate for others.

I realized that, and it gave me a place of free spaciousness right in the middle of the mess, the confusion and the noise: a place where I create for myself. A place where I am free to create for myself. A place where I do what I want and there is no audience or if there is – I am not looking in its direction.

Because it is called MY LIFE.

For a reason.

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