Facebook. Not Normal. Code Red.

I am sure that there are normal people out there who can check Facebook once a day, and not have it emotionally affect them, but I am not once of those people.

As frustrating as it is, as much as I resent facades and overly convenient “connection”, I am always on Facebook. Always.

I refresh my newsfeed when I wake up.

I refresh my newsfeed when I am at work.

I refresh my newsfeed when I am at red lights.

I refresh my newsfeed before I go to bed.

I refresh my newsfeed when I get up to go potty in the middle of the night. (Only sometimes, gosh.)

I mentioned it above – I am not one of those normal people who can just see something and carry on.

I get bothered, really bothered, because of things I see on Facebook.

I get so bothered I cry, really cry, because of things I see on Facebook.

I got in a heated argument, with a stranger, back and forth for 3 days , because of things I saw on Facebook.

Not normal.

As the Not normal escalated within me, 3 weeks ago I hit code red.


pc: @melissa_hartwig

I think it was the moment that there was more reaction on my newsfeed to Cecil the Lion than to Sandra Bland, or the fact that I had recently found out about deaths, miscarriages, pregnancies…through Facebook.

All of this was flurried within posts that included: another selfie,  ItWorks Wraps sales pitches,  “Please pray for my cat!”, and quizzes that answer the most important-est questions like “What Disney Princess Would You Be?”.

Not normal.

All. Of. This. Information, all in a refresh of the newsfeed.

So I strove to control what came up on my newsfeed.

Hiding people from showing up was an option for awhile.

I mean, I can’t just go unfriending everyone. Who does that?

Finally… I didn’t have to be exposed to what I deemed as nonsense, racism, ignorance and narcissism.

But how many people did I have to hide before I starting asking myself “Who are these flipping people, and why am I surrounded by them?”

And then there is my own Facebook page that bothers me. Please feel free to just whisper with me when you see a period or a question mark:  Not normal,  Not normal,  Not normal.

I am constantly scripting so that I am honest, but not a Debbie Downer, encouraging, but not annoying.

Did I like that in an appropriate amount of time?

Who did I tag in this status and why, and why wasn’t I tagged in that status/picture that was just taken?

Was that too arrogant, was this too self deprecating?   

Should I post a selfie or another sunrise?  

Should I check-in?  

Who was in my last profile picture?

Should I cuss because I really want to let you know all the flips I don’t give? {No, don’t cuss, the kids may be reading over mom’s shoulder.}


Why did I just take another quiz?

Oh! this playbuzz quiz said that I am  Jayne Mansfield.

These descriptions are so right on . I love bubble baths….

I wonder what algorithm playbuzz used to determine this.

Should I share a screen shot?

OMG, who cares?

Not normal.

Julie, post something that someone will care about. Something that will make someone  think.

I post about my sparkly Sperry’s, 30 “likes” in as many minutes. I post about Social Injustice… Crickets.

 Not normal.

One day I posted about confederate flags and swastikas, preceded by a post about how I was buying another batch of glitter. Because all of those things were happening in my mind at those moments. And I felt the need to post them both.

Glitter was the engaged conversation.

Not normal Code Red was reached. Severe Sensory Overload. I Literally Can’t Even.

So I deactivated.

I lasted about a month until I realized that you wouldn’t even know that I wrote about this, until I share it on Facebook.

How can it be liked, and shared, and…….Not normal..

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