But it occurred to me, as I lay awake at just after 4.30 am, how little time I’d spent looking at the alternative. What’s that? Well, I might delete all profiles or stop opening them and/or sharing material, but the truth is I’ve got nothing else as compelling to hold my attention.
Now, I’m not sure if I should weep or be angry at that statement. I mean, surely my life isn’t or shouldn’t be defined by a bit of knob-twiddling, blog-sharing, or whatever else shows up between now and the end of my days? Perhaps there’s no escaping it; or perhaps I shouldn’t be so down on myself. It’s part of life, right?
I go backwards and forwards on may usage fo Social media. I deleted Facebook, and have a dormant Instagram account but I am a sucker for Twitter. I don’t know why, but it’s the place that feels like home to me, but makes me feel bad whenever I use it.
I keep having to take breaks and can’t get to a stage where I am happy with my usage. The bad feelings I have come from the hard time I give myself for using it. Everyone tells you how bad it is for you. They post about how much better they feel when the quit it, but it gives me many positives and I have net some of the most important people in my lift through it.