maybe it’s true
I remember in 2018 I was only using the internet for email and recipes. Nothing else. No social media, no blogging, no YouTube, basically no music, maybe occasional streaming over Netflix. That’s it. Like a pure utility thing, very oldschool but with newest services.
Back then I really thought “Wow, the internet is for unhappy people.”
Because I was happy and absolutely didn’t need any more of the internet. I recognized how much sadness and isolation made me even engage in social media and all that stuff. I suddenly didn’t need the online company; it felt hollow, incomplete. I didn’t need to tell anyone online anything because telling people offline was enough. I didn’t need their eyes, their validation. Their opinions. I didn’t wanna talk, didn’t wanna follow anyone. But the pandemic and illness and job unhappiness at times all made me return to something online in different ways. The pandemic made me remake a Discord, the job unhappiness made me want to make a blog to document myself teaching myself how to code and my projects, then illness made me post a ton of other things. Now I am happy offline, healthy, and uninterested in working in tech. I don’t even wanna do the tech projects anymore that I set out to do. So what is left holding me?
Now I find myself thinking like that again - that the internet is for unhappy people. The platforms, at least. Internet for messaging your friends, finding recipes and playing games together is good. An extension of real life; a connection across distances of real life friends.
I feel stupid writing it, and I don’t think I can write that where anyone will see, because it is offensive to them and I get why; when I am very online (for my standards anyway) I also insist there is no problem, I am just having fun, it’s productive, it’s helping me, I practice writing and all that. And well… it is, but there’s a reason I am more online when isolated, lonely, sick, sad, in abusive situations, and not when I am happy, socializing, outside, healthy, and loved.
Influencer culture ruined it for me too. After it became a job to pretend you’re happy, having fun, being wealthy and all that just to have revealed time and time again that it’s all a lie, they’re in debt, unhappily married and all that, their positive happy content online falls flat for me. Everyone admitting it’s a highlight reel. Finstas and alts. Together with knowing I never feel like sharing writing posting online when I am this happy, it makes me feel like it is all staged. Staged by unhappy people trying to cover up their actual unhappiness, or staged as a job, or staged for validation and sharing status symbols. Made for unhappy people who will consume it all and hopefully buy stuff to live vicariously through people while also being envious of what they have. The comparisons aren’t an unwanted side effect, they’re a feature.
Where does that leave me? I question every motivation to post now. If I think the internet is for unhappy people, why am I here? Who am I writing for and is it realistic to hope for good and reasonable behavior from them? Do I care for their input, and if not, why show them?
Do I do it for me or for others? Do I just wanna document stuff? For whom? Do I wanna show off? Do I want to control what people think of me? Do I wanna make people jealous? Do I wanna make myself accessible to online people and what for? To what degree? If I wanna write somewhere to document, why is a private journal not enough? Why is an anonymous blog no one finds not enough? Why is an unpublished post as a draft not enough? Do I really need people to see it and why? Do I feel like I owe people who enjoyed my posts to keep posting?
What do I do if I wanna disappear? Or start over? Or never return? Or change the contents of my blog completely? Do I owe people to stunt my own growth and changes to be palatable to them? No, I guess. And in a way I am proud of all that I did. It’s a struggle to keep online at the same time, but that’s okay.