I've Been Chronically Offline

And I might just keep it that way

It’s been a few months since I’ve posted here and I thought it might be time to pop in and give you all a brief update. Every now and then I find myself going into hermit mode. Usually this happens because I fall into a habit of over-consuming and doom-scrolling on social media that sets my nervous system on fire. In turn, I end up deleting all my social media apps off my phone (in the past I’ve straight up deleted my social media profiles), turn off email notifications and avoid the news like the plague. I have buried myself under a rock so intensely this time around that I heard the news about Charlie Kirk from a friend in person. Not from social media. Not from the TV. By word of mouth. I know it’s crazy right? It honestly felt like an anomaly in a time when “breaking news” travels faster than the speed of light. Anyhow, what ultimately ends up happening during my hiatus is I start to feel a bit of FOMO and go right back to using social media. So…what gives?

The thing is, I enjoy the benefits that come from being “disconnected”. I feel less stressed, less anxious, more present, more mindful of my time and energy, and my sleep tends to improve. I’ve even started working on a dystopian novel that I’m super excited about! Every time I go into hermit mode I wonder why I’m even on social media in the first place. Most days I think to myself, “I feel so peaceful and blissful”. It’s almost as if I put on a blindfold and earplugs to avoid the sounds of terror and chaos that surround me in this world, knowing damn well I might at some point get swept up in the chaos. At this point I feel like all I can do is try my best to enjoy the ride until this plane comes crashing down. It almost feels wrong in some ways to find bliss amidst the chaos and disaster in this world. These past few years or so my default mood has been melancholy. This is mostly because the tiny screen on my phone has provided me a front row seat to the destruction, violence and hatred that feels ever-present in our world. And while the deep sadness and anger I’ve felt at the state of the world has been the fuel for inspiration in a lot of my writing, I don’t think I want to live there much longer. I’ve made the state of melancholy my semi-permanent home when it really only needs to be a vacation home I visit on occasion.

On one hand, I miss the creativity and semi-social interaction I get from being online (I’ll explain what I mean by semi-social shortly). I enjoy speaking my mind on the internet and having conversations with randos in my comment section from time to time, though pointless as it may seem. It allows me to speak in my authentic voice and find the people who resonate with the things I am saying. And when there is (inevitably) negative feedback or trolls from the things I’m saying, it sort of rolls off the shoulder because at the end of the day they’re still strangers on the internet. The thing is, as a neurodivergent person who has learned to unmask over the past few years I am finding face to face social interaction to be more draining than ever before. There’s a strange sort of thing that happens when you begin to unmask because you notice when you’re masking in social settings. The problem with this newfound awareness, however, is that it feels….icky. The best way I could describe it is like being in your 40s (or even 30s) and trying to put your old clothes from high school back on to wear in public. Not only are the clothes embarrassingly out of style, but they probably don’t fit the same because your 30-40 year old body is not meant to stay the same as your teenage body. Even though the people around you may or may not notice how ridiculous you look and/or feel (or care for that matter) in your old clothes, you would notice and that’s the difference. That’s how I feel when I find myself slipping the mask back on for the sake of seeming normal to a stranger. I feel ridiculous and borderline embarrassed because my authentic self is in my ear whispering, “why do you care so much about being digestible to this human who isn’t even invested in your life and well-being”. In other words, posting stuff on social media — whether that’s here on Substack or making a video for TikTok — gives my neurodivergent brain the space to be creative and share my authentic voice fully unmasked. It also fulfills the need to be social without compromising my authenticity or the emotional labor that can come with in person friendships and relationships (hence the earlier statement about semi-social interaction). I get to experience the benefits of social interaction without the mental and emotional investment or exhaustion.

And last, but most definitely not least, there’s the monetary aspect of social media that comes into play when you’re self-employed like me because…capitalism **insert eye-roll emoji**. Social media is hands down one of the most effective marketing tools for small businesses. The problem is that it is pay to play. You can’t post one thing a month and expect for your content to go viral. You have to keep posting consistently enough, engage with your audience, offer your first born child to the algorithm gods, and say a prayer and hail mary to help your business’ content reach your target audience. Not only that, there’s no guarantee that the engagement from your content will turn a profit or bring in new customers. It requires considerable effort, energy and time that quite frankly, as a self-employed stay at home mom to two toddlers, I just don’t have the mental capacity for most days. Anyone who uses social media to market their art, products and/or services knows exactly what I’m talking about. If social media is a major part of how you earn money then the simple fact is you can’t just opt-out of social media entirely.

So THAT’S what gives. I find myself being drawn back to social media every time for the sake of experiencing “so-called” creative expression, social interaction and the potential to earn money to survive. The problem is that it comes at the cost of my attention, my peace, my presence in my real life relationships and ultimately my emotional well-being. Maybe the answer to my dilemma isn’t trying to balance my online and offline presence. Maybe the question I should be asking myself is, “How do I find a way to meet these needs without social media?” The answer to that question requires me to think outside the box and harness the willpower to step outside of my comfort zone – something that isn’t exactly easy to someone who has become accustomed to convenience.

Perhaps the underlying truth is that social media has conditioned all of us to accept these dopamine induced, artificially-created connections and experiences instead of learning to wholeheartedly embrace the messiness that comes with real-life human interactions and creative expression. It may not give us the dopamine rush that comes with the likes, comments, views and shares on social media, but that’s the point. Embracing the lows with the highs is just a normal part of life. Somewhere along the way we’ve learned that life is only worth sharing and experiencing when we are at our “highs” and the “lows” should be kept in the dark away from the world. As depressing as it might sound, sometimes it’s during those “lows” that we end up finding the motivation and the people we need to keep us going. The irony is that in order for us to feel more connected to each other and the day-to-day life around us, we may just need to learn to disconnect from the online world a little more. Does it mean we go full hermit mode tomorrow? Of course not. For some people being online is necessary to their survival. I get that. That’s not who I’m talking about.

I’m talking about being intentional with how we use social media. Maybe instead of doom-scrolling at the end of the day we sit down to write, read, paint, touch grass, look at the stars, talk to a loved one, go for a walk outside, take a relaxing bath, cry, or just lie down and sit with our thoughts. Maybe that means we find alternative ways to market and share our art, products and services. Maybe that means we make it a point to put our phones down and give our family and loved ones the full, undivided attention they want and deserve from us. Maybe we give ourselves time limits or designated screen-free days on a daily and weekly basis. The possibilities are endless, but I think you get the point. Life is meant to be lived. Not observed from (or performed on) a tiny cell phone screen. As it stands, I think I may just stick to being chronically offline because my life is here and now, in this very moment. The more I accept this fact, the closer I get to experiencing pure, unadulterated bliss. At a time when the world feels as hopeless as it’s ever been, clinging to the feeling of bliss might just be the only thing that keeps me from losing all hope for the future. And if there’s one thing I’m learning from the people who have done [and are actively doing] the work of changing our society, it’s that fear and hopelessness is how they win. I’ll be damned if I let them steal my joy.

With Love,

Amber Ivana

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