Histrionics

I want to delete my twitter account.

Two days ago I went through the steps of deleting everything but the tweets and content of the past year, but my finger hovered too long over the accept button and the moment was lost. Something made me think of all the history of the past four years, slivers of myself I probably can’t be bothered to seek out but remain there still, indelible for now. I lost my nerve.

Two weeks ago I suspended the account and this lasted seven days, or just over. You get a month to decide if you want to stay deleted, but can sign in again at any time, and everything will be back to normal. And I lasted a week.

When I came back I found I still didn’t want to communicate with people. I thought with time the feeling would shift again. Usually a few hours to recalibrate and you cringe at your overreaction.

Still waiting for the cringe.

Still waiting for it to feel normal again.

It should feel normal by now. Why doesn’t it feel normal?

I still wrote. I still write. The word vomit has to go somewhere.

When you go, do you signal it, or slip away into the night?

It feels polite to say that you are leaving but you’re happy, you’re fine, in case there are people who might worry or wonder after you. It also feels like showing off, fishing for admirers to fall on you and beg you to stay.

You don’t want to be asked to stay.

You don’t want to be asked to reconsider. You want to let go of the ties, rather than sever them. Watch the friendships float away peacefully like so many helium-filled balloons.

Maybe this persona has run its course.

Maybe

9 thoughts on “Histrionics

  1. I’d hate to see you go, but I understand that need to be away when it isn’t always worthwhile to stay. I’m glad you still write and I try to stay caught up when life doesn’t get in the way. Do what’s best for you. That’s always the best choice

    Like

  2. I took a break from twitter earlier this year. I am often tempted to delete it and my blog. I keep hoping it will feel better. Sometimes it does, sometimes it doesn’t.

    I like you being there but it has to be what meets your needs. Don’t do anything irretrievable in haste though. If you want to talk, hit me up.

    Like

  3. I totally get this. I deleted my ‘normal’ twitter account this year after 10 years, and I still feel ambivalent about it, even though I recognise it was probably the right thing to do. Probably. It’s tough and there are no easy answers but many easy and glib suggestions from the likes of me.

    Thanks for letting us know you are okay, because there are lots of people who care about you. Deleting twitter won’t delete that, whatever you decide. Take care x

    Like

  4. I want to add my voice here too and agree with the others. I would hate to see you go, but in the end you have to do what is best for you. I hope you find the wisdom and peace you seek.

    Rebel xox

    Like

  5. I can understand the quandary of wanting to let people know you’re ok, yet wanting to quietly drift away. I’ve been on Twitter for 7 years today and have found the occasional break (of varying lengths) to be refreshing.

    I hope, like me, that you decide to stay. I really like having your voice there. I hope more that you do what’s right for you.

    O

    Like

  6. I don’t want to like this, but it’s a good post of your emotions on the subject. I think we have all been there, get there, and try to deal with it the best we can. Good luck on any decision you make.

    Like

Leave a Reply to Focused and Filthy Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s