Facebook And Why I Deleted My Account

I’m done with Facebook and here’s why:

  1. It’s run its course. I truly believe Facebook has become passé. It’s old and dated and a major waste of time. I used to spend hours every week scrolling through to see who posted what. Frankly, who cares what Sally had for lunch at an expensive restaurant?
  2. I never used it anymore. See reason number one. I hadn’t logged into it in months. I deleted the app from my phone to see if I’d miss it, and surprise, surprise, I didn’t even notice that it was gone. I found other things to do.
  3. The content was distressing. It had become far too political. If it wasn’t someone screaming insanely over bullshit governmental issues that don’t affect my day-to-day existence one iota, it was some jackass posting nightmare images of abused animals to get me to support their cause of the week. All my pets have been rescue pets. I’m sorry, but I can’t save them all. I don’t need that kind of crap to give me nightmares and keep me up at night.
  4. It makes people ugly. See reason number three. Fighting with family or friends on Facebook is such a childish thing to do. Fighting with or verbally attacking strangers online is somehow much worse to me. It brings out the ugly side of normally nice people.
  5. I wanted to get off of Facebook for privacy reasons. For the same reason I’ve deleted other online accounts (LinkedIn, Yahoo, Snapchat, Google+, Tumblr, CafeMom, About.me), I just don’t want my content out there everywhere anymore. Yahoo and now Facebook have major security issues, and I was sexually harassed on Snapchat (sorry former friend of mine, I don’t need your juvenile young son sending me images of his penis, and when I emailed you to politely tell you what he was doing, I didn’t even get an apology). While it was fun at first on Facebook connecting with old friends and making new ones, I feel much safer trying to limit who sees what.
  6. I remain semi-active for now on Twitter, Goodreads, Pinterest, Instagram and WordPress. And that’s enough for me.

 

Image courtesy of Pinterest

Therapeutic Rant

This is my third post today. No, I never posted the other two. They were therapeutic rants. Those types of blog posts are kind-of like those letters or emails you write but (hopefully) never send. You either tear the letter up, or you delete the email.

My first post was another slam at Facebook or at least the Facebook type of people who post pictures or articles about animal cruelty. Those types of posts distress me so much I can’t sleep after seeing them. I have quit Facebook before over those types of horrific postings. Facebook is on my “don’t visit” list again today because of something I saw last night. Some things you see by accident, and once you see them, you can’t “un-see” them. Thanks for posting that one, idiot. I no longer follow your comments or posts.

My second post was two rants in one post (it was a long post). I started out talking about stress and being sick with a GI bug. I’ve been under a great deal of stress lately. My stress level is so high that I decided something had to “give”. I actually checked into dropping out of school (again)! Here I am hip-deep in a Civil Litigation course and I’m enjoying the heck out of the class. The only way I could think of to reduce stress was to drop something, and school seemed the logical choice. After I finish the two classes this semester, I only have seven classes to go before I have my second degree. Why was I thinking of quitting? It makes no sense. Stress made me stupid (not logical).

stressThe second part of the post was about my autistic son, his transition program and the nightmare week we had dealing with incompetent administrators. I decided not to post that one in all its full (bitchy) detail because we still have to work with these people (for now). We had a horrific week where they required us to attend a mandatory session with a representative from a local agency for disabled folks who should have known better but proceeded to talk for two hours non-stop while the disabled kids in the audience melted down. We got up and left. Need I say more? The very next day I received an email where said administrators decided what was “best” for my son regarding a co-op job placement despite what he had decided and despite what I had already told them. This lead to a screaming session on the phone (yes, I was the one screaming, and I don’t like conflict and I don’t yell at people outside my family – ever). Two days later said administrators let us down again when I fell ill and I couldn’t reach anyone to tell them we would not be part of a planned tour of a local facility. I had hoped my son could attend alone. No one took him, and no one ever contacted us. Is it any wonder we want “out”? My son has never been severely disabled. For all I know, maybe he should never have been classed as a special education student. This is something that haunts me, and it’s something that I am really questioning this week.

therapeutic
Yes, I was yelling this week. Yes, I was VERY angry.

Therapeutic rants are great. In fact, this post ended up turning into a milder version of what I originally wrote. Sorry, it had to come out somewhere. I think everyone should try ranting at least once or twice. If you really let yourself go, you can be profane, you can tell people off, and you can say all sorts of clever things you’d never say to someone’s face. Just don’t post them.

Images courtesy of Pinterest

 

Why I am Quitting Facebook

I usually steer clear of controversy.  I don’t like arguing with others, I avoid conflict, and I’m not usually very good at defending myself in an argument/debate.  In this case, I feel like I have to say something.

One of the first social networks I became involved with years ago was Facebook. It was fun at first connecting with friends and family. I took time to search out everyone I could think of from my family, from high school and from past jobs. I think I found more people than people actually looked for and found me, but that’s fine. I guess I’m not real memorable since I’m shy and quiet by nature.

But I digress. To get back to the reason why I am finished with Facebook on a personal basis, I have very few causes that I get passionate about. One that I feel strongly about is animals. I’ve been known to immediately stop reading a book I may have spent a great deal of money on or that others insist I must read because I’ll love it if there’s even a hint of animal cruelty. It bothers me. I can’t deal with animal cruelty.

I have had many pets during my lifetime. The two dogs I had growing up (Missy and Bennie) were rescues from the Animal Service League. My mother taught me to care for and to give homes to unwanted animals.  They deserved loving homes just as much as new puppies or kittens did. Our dog, Zola, was my 35th birthday present, and she came to us from the Humane Society at Lollypop Farm. Four of our cats (Sammy, Raymond, Molly and Ginger) came from Scottsville Veterinary Adoptions. Our cat, Chase, came to us from the Kathleen A. Tenney (K.A.T.) Animal Shelter. One cat (Jasper) was through a friend when her friend could no longer keep him. All were older animals that were unwanted by others.

At least three people that I know post pictures on Facebook of abused and tortured animals. The way Facebook is set up, unfortunately, you can’t miss these horrific images. You scroll unsuspecting through your news feed, and there they are.  I stopped receiving any sorts of posts in my news feed from one “friend” several months back. I shut her off because I couldn’t handle what she thought she had to share. I don’t understand why it’s necessary to distress others in this way.

I couldn’t sleep last night because of a post from a “friend” that I blundered across on one of my rare forays onto Facebook last evening. I was up crying half the night over a poor cat who resembled our Molly. I can’t do Facebook any more. I just can’t. I can’t go on there, hoping to catch up with friends, see pictures of family, etc. and then find something so disturbing that I can’t function because of it. I suppose I could just drop the folks who post graphic images.  I don’t feel like I have the time or the energy for that right now.

I will continue to let my blogs publish to their Facebook pages because I know that’s how some of my readers reach me. I will not venture onto there on a personal level any longer, however. It’s too upsetting.

Friendship

SeraBea4“A friend is one to whom one may pour out all the contents of their heart, chaff and grain together, knowing that the gentlest of hands will take and sift it, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away.” — Unknown

SeraBea1When I first joined Facebook, I used it as an opportunity to reconnect with old friends. I looked for friends I had hung out with in High School.  I fondly remembered all those lunches in the cafeteria and the classes we’d had (endured!) together.  I also looked for folks that I’d worked with in past jobs.  When you spend time with people day-in/day-out, you become part of their lives.  You share feelings, thoughts and experiences.  Once you no longer see them on a regular basis, you usually lose touch with them, and that is sad.  It’s very hard to stay part of someone’s life when you don’t see them regularly.

SeraBea2Besides Facebook, I am fortunate to have friends whom I meet for lunch on a semi-regular basis.  I meet another one of my good friends for dinner or to take a walk.  I may not see these friends every day, but it’s great when we do get together to get caught up.

“A good friend is a connection to life, a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world.” — Lois Wyse (1926-2007); Advertising Executive, Author

SeraBea3I like to think that my squirrel friend also has good friends of her own.  To look at these photos, it would certainly seem that she and the bunny are good pals.

SOURCES:

http://coolquotescollection.com/7464/a-friend-is-one-to-whom-one-may-pour-out-all-the-contents-of-their-heart-chaff

http://www.values.com/inspirational-quotes/tag/friendship-quotes