The Irony of Wanting and Not Wanting to be Heard

I’m restless. I’m frustrated. I’m tired of talking to the vast emptiness of Facebook and Twitter in short, easy-to-read sentences and paragraphs that barely go beyond the surface of what I really think. I do like the challenge of Twitter and saying what I think in 140 characters, but it is a bit limiting sometimes.

There is an irony, however, that although I’m frustrated with feeling like I’m fruitlessly talking to a wall, I’m wanting to return to writing on an abandoned blog with no readers. (Then to find out I can’t  get to my old blog, so I had to start this new one.)

Social Networking is an odd thing, turning something we do in person into something we do on a computer. Networking has evolved from connecting wires for machines to communicate to connecting people to other people for career enhancing to connecting everyone through communication machines. You can connect with people from your past, famous people, people who think the way you do, and people who don’t. When I first joined Facebook, I didn’t use my real last name because I didn’t want to talk to people who knew be in the past—not quite the concept of a social network. But I got tired of my friends talking in shorthand—finishing discussions they started on Facebook—so, one of them got me set up.

I pretty much kept up with family and friends, a few celebrities, and groups. Then I realized the other use of social networking—voicing your opinion. Every now and then there would be a political outburst, but I was able to ignore it because it was their wall—their opinion. I mean, I didn’t want anyone contradicting me, and there is that pesky 1^st Amendment, which I believe in and support, so even people who say things I don’t agree with have a right to say them. Caveat—they have a right to say it as long as they don’t encourage violence or cross a line with obscenity and hatred, i.e. white supremacists cross a line.

Then the presidential election started winding up, and I found myself on Facebook and news websites even more. There were more political outbursts that I wasn’t able to ignore. Then Donald Trump was elected president, and the world turned upside down (humming Hamilton song to myself now).

But I felt constrained. I didn’t want to be rude or upset my conservative friends and family by showing my real anger and fear of this administration, and I didn’t want to upset my liberal friends and family by showing my frustration with what seemed to me over-the-top complaining and name calling. But what drove me crazy about both was the victimhood and fear mongering. I’m guilty of it, too, and am tucked in nicely to my bubble. Eventually, though, I couldn’t take one more person demanding that I make a phone call to my representative or click a vote for some poll. Worse, were the people telling me to get over it and to, most recently, quit making a big deal out of everything and just calm down.

I ask you, what woman likes to be told to calm down? Cripes!

So, here I am, typing and rambling on trying to make sense of all these feelings and finding words to use to describe them. It’s not just politics. I’ve hit my 50s, so there’s a bit of a mid-life crisis going on, too. But there’s good stuff, too, I can write about. I have a great husband, the 2 cutest dogs on the planet, I knit, I spin, I weave, I write, I read, and I’m sure there’s a lot more out there I want to learn about.

I just need an outlet to help organize my thoughts about it all. 

Kell