Diving Back In

 I am 54 years old. I've been separated for more than a decade now. 

Since 2014, I have endured three major health crises, two substantial bouts of unemployment, and a pandemic. Due to those health issues, I'm overweight, though I can't tell you a number because scales actually depress me and destroy my motivation. I'm also lonely and would like to have someone to cuddle in next to at night.

The age thing, the weight thing, and the loneliness thing intersect. They always do. 

I have a crush on someone. We're friends and I've been developing feelings for him. I'm afraid to act on those feelings because he's considerably younger than me and I just can't imagine that someone that young and handsome would want to hang out with someone as old as me. Or as round as me.

Here is where weight intersects with the loneliness. About a month ago, I signed up for Weight Watchers. The multiple health crises led me to put on a fair amount of weight. Absolutely nothing in my closet fit me. I had to buy new clothes and often chose frumpy, shapeless outfits to hide my body. I felt enormous amounts of shame. Logically, I knew that my health problems had caused the weight gain. Weight Watchers is useful, but I find it unsustainable. For example, I enjoy making homemade soup, but I haven't sorted out a way to track the points on that. I've fallen back to eating salads for dinner most days. That is also not sustainable. One of my health issues is fairly severe anemia for which I gave up being a vegetarian. Meat has high point values. But, I want to date and everyone has consumed the same messages about the ideal shape of a woman's body. So, salads it is.

I try to fight off those messages because I know they're trash. I signed up on a dating app, hoping to fight off the loneliness. It's unnerving. What if I meet someone in good shape. I'm kind of spooked by the prospect that someone will see me without clothing. Again, logically, I know the garbage behind that kind of thinking, so I try to fight off those thoughts. I feel, however, that my experience isn't unique. I imagine many women feel this way. Probably men, too. 

I'm aware of the dichotomy between the messaging and logic. What about those who aren't aware of the influences of the perfect body images that are out there? We know that social media can have a negative impact on how we feel about our bodies. We need to help each other be more mindful of the messages that impact our behavior and attitudes. I'll start with myself. It might take a while, but it will be worth the effort.

In the meantime, what should I do about that crush?

What's the Point?

 I'm pretty sure that I'm going to come across as a bitter old person here and frankly I'm okay with that.

I admit that I have spent too much time this holiday break scrolling. Occasionally, I've checked out some of the short videos on FB and IG. After doing so for the last week, I have but one question:

 

What's the point?

 

I generally enjoy watching videos of huskies "talking." I miss having a dog, so those videos probably fill a small void in my life. I ran into a video the other day that put a stop to this new habit of mine.

The video involved a husky laying next to a crying baby. It looked like the husky nuzzled the baby a couple of times. I tuned up the volume and discovered the voice of an adult, likely a man, who was hushing the baby and whispering, "Stop crying."

What was the point?

Put down your phone and go comfort the child. You can even snuggle in with the dog at the same time. Are comments like "awww, look at the good boi trying to soothe the baby" that much more important than signaling that you will be a source of comfort for this child? What are we thinking?

It got me thinking and I'm closely monitoring my social media "usage" today. Let's face it, social media usage is mostly just passive scrolling. That's not healthy. Not for me and probably not for any of us.

Rant over - thanks

Maybe a little withdrawal

About a month ago, I deactivated my Facebook. I really felt like I was frittering away too much time on my phone. I'm still getting the urge to sign on, but so far I've successfully fought off that urge.

I have been exercising more. I have been reading more. Those are pluses. I still need to add in watching some movies and writing more.

I still feel as lonely as I felt when I was on Facebook. This shouldn't surprise me, as loneliness has been a lifelong struggle. Facebook gave me (and probably many of us) the allusion of connection. My current social life is exactly what is was when I was on Facebook - nothing. I stay home every evening. I'm awaiting summer concert announcements. I don't have email, text, or phone conversations with folks (this is as much my fault as anything. I could initiate, but fight the feeling that I have nothing to share).

I think I'm happy with my decision. Much like I'm happy with my decision to not eat fries. I might have a craving, but I don't have to give into something that ultimately isn't good for me. I'll figure out the real life social stuff, because as a human I need to do so for my survival.

Reclaiming my time

It seems that we Americans (folks in the US) spend a significant amount of time staring at screens.  From this January 2018 article from Technology Review, that we see that we are spending nearly 24 hours a week on the Internet, 17.6 of those hours at home. That's a whole day we are losing to the various screens in our lives.

This August MarketWatch article provides numbers that are more dire - 11 hours a day looking at some sort of screen. I'm a simple English teach, but even I can do that math - three days a week are lost to screens.

I've been guilty, I can't lie. Just this past Saturday, I decided to deactivate my Facebook account. I also removed Twitter from my phone. I have to be careful, because the lie that my depression has always told me was that if I disappeared into thin air, no one would even notice. I didn't announce my decision, just did it. People are too busy staring at their screens for 11 hours a day to even notice that one person has "disappeared," so the numbers are helping to reduce my anxiety a bit.

Since Saturday, I've been to the gym twice (something my very overweight body needs) and have read many pages in two books that I'm trying to tackle. Plus, I'm putting a hit on a couple of cleaning projects at home. The need to "connect" plus my depression made social media a serious negative in my life. I would post and go back endlessly to see if anyone care enough to comment or like. I'm sure that other people manage better than me. As Emerson said, "Know thyself." I do and I've decided to turn off the screens as often as possible.

I put connect in quotation marks because I'm not really sure that real connection happens over social media. That isn't to say that I haven't made real life friends I met online through common interests. I have. I just think that only online connections are not as strong as if you interact on a regular basis in real life. That's the part I'm missing.

Perhaps I got lazy and presumed that any contact was good enough. It's not and I've missed out on too many hours scrolling through my phone. Time to live in real time, with real live humans in front of me.

Reality?

According to Vox, 750 reality shows flickered across television screens in the U.S. in 2015. To me, this is astounding. They generally have no appeal to me.

That's not to say that I haven't watched a couple to see what all the hype was about. I have to admit that I caught a couple seasons of The Real World and maybe part of the first season of Survivor. I may have even watched one or two episodes of The Bachelor/The Bachelorette. That's it.

My primary objection is the faux sheen of "reality." There is nothing real about any of these shows. They are edited to create a desired narrative. Also, I hope that people are acting for the camera. I mean, I hope they're acting. How else to explain so much awful behavior.

It is that on-screen behavior that causes me the most concern. Society is choosing to make people famous for often reprehensible behavior on these shows. Why did Richard Hatch, the first survivor, have 15 minutes of fame? Or Omorosa? Or Snooki? Or Donald Trump? We have elevated the loudest, the crudest to stardom. Saying what's on your mind is now an admirable trait. It's considered authentic. I, however, question if all of those words spoken on reality shows are actually what's on the speaker's mind or if those are carefully calculated and scripted words, used to capture the spotlight.

I'm beginning to see social media, especially Twitter, in the same way. Say or do something outrageous. Go viral. Get famous. Repeat. We are helping lazy people become famous. Become president.

If we really want to resist, spend less time engaging on-line. Talk to people in real life. Volunteer somewhere. Don't share posts of those seeking fame for fame's sake, just so you can make your own snarky remark. Turn off the television. Don't buy the magazine with the latest reality "stars' on the cover. I'm trying hard to follow my own advice. I'm pretty sure we can make this better by shifting our reality from the screen to our own front porch.