The Great Instagram Escape
And man, it’s true what they say… No one really cares.
The caveat is that for most of us, that is true. No one really cares if we’re posting or not. For some, yes. For most, no.
That’s not a pity party. It’s a truth. A realization. Possibly a freedom.
I have been off Instagram for 6 weeks. I haven’t posted. I haven’t scrolled. I haven’t shared a story or reposted anything.
The first few days, were like going through withdrawals. At least, what I imagine withdrawals from addiction of any kind feel like. And I can say it was an addiction of sorts for me, enough that I’d been trying since August 1st to get off the app, but I couldn’t make myself do it. I couldn’t make myself log out and pull away. But I could ask for help and that’s what I did and was able to not only log out, but delete it from my phone.
I’ve done these kinds of things before, going offline for a month or two, for whole seasons, and none were ever so hard.
I deactivated and deleted my Twitter/X account without a second thought.
I haven’t been active on Facebook or Threads in I can’t even tell you.
But Instagram was hard without help. I was addicted to the scrolling, to the information I was seeing, to the fact that I thought maybe in some way I was helping by sharing and commenting, that maybe I was adding to it all… In hindsight, I don’t think I was. I was validating my own thoughts and beliefs and stances.
And I wasn’t creating. I wasn’t writing or crocheting or playing around in the kitchen or learning anything new or… I was deeply stressed and unhappy and began feeling it inside my body and my mind. I was tired of the ads, of the amplification of horror and law breaking and disingenous comments and ignorance and even more ads and not seeing things from people I actually wanted to see stuff from and only being followed by people trying to sell things and comparisonitis and ads. Always with the ads…
I call it an escape because in the thick of it, it felt like being held down, being kept, coerced, pulled in without conscious thought or making a conscious decision. It was a habit. A really, really bad habit, a really really bad place for me to go everyday…
I logged back in yesterday to check a local group that I was trying to be part of that only updates on social media. And the stark realization that no one had missed me hit me square in the face. There were no messages asking if I was okay, where I’ve been, that I hadn’t posted… There was nothing. Not even from people I considered friends.
We’re all busy, I know. We’re all deep into our own lives, our own things, just trying to make it through the day.
But seeing that there wasn’t anything, which hadn’t even been the reason I’d logged in so that expectation, that need for validation is unfortunately still there, but it reaffirmed for me that I’m not missed. I’m not missed on Twitter. I’m not missed on Facebook. Granted, I hadn’t told anyone I was leaving Instagram, either, so I do know it goes both ways. Sometimes we think we’re more important to people than we actually are. We expect them to care about us in the same ways we care about them. The reality that I’ve found for myself is that they don’t.
It’s both sad and liberating. Again, not a pity party. The healing that I’ve been doing, the deep dives into why I have been the way I have always been has helped. Learning about myself, working on my mental and emotional health has helped in ways I can’t express yet.
I want close friends and I want good friends. I want to laugh and have fun and create and make things and be there for people who are there for me. I want to write stories. I don’t know if they’ll ever sell again, but I want to write them. I want to be present, to notice, to listen, to discuss, to connect.
I feel worlds better being off Instagram. Yesterday when I logged in, I wasn’t the least bit curious to see what’s being talked about or shared. I wasn’t the least bit interested in scrolling. So, that’s progress.
How I’ll get the information from the local creative group, I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out.
Social media has never been fun for me. I’ve stated that before and I’ve always been scared, though, to let it go completely. It wasn’t helping me sell books. I wasn’t about to give Meta any access to my bank accounts or credit cards. I wasn’t going to pay to play the games of visibility. Not a good business strategy, I know, but the games were exhausting and I’m just not interested. What that means, I don’t know. A friend and I are looking into alternative things to do that aren’t social media, so maybe we’ll both find our ways that work.
Anyway… I made the Great Instagram Escape, and I can tell you it’s been totally worth it.
Have a good one.
Lissa
