I don’t know if there are support groups for this affliction as yet, so I’m going to testify here on my blog.

I have become obsessed with social media. I am hooked on posting, tweeting, liking, commenting, replying, following, sharing, and friending. I wasn’t addicted at first. It happened slowly, insidiously, innocently. I wasn’t even interested in social media in the beginning.

Originally, my sons and daughters-in-law emailed family news and photos of our grandchildren to MG and me. We loved receiving those emails. Then the younger generation became involved with Facebook. The emails with news and photos ceased. We complained. We whined. We grumbled. The kiddies said it was quicker and easier for them to post their news and photos on Facebook than in emails. They said we should join Facebook if we wanted to see everything from them, from our extended family, and from our friends. MG was solidly set against it, but eventually we caved and joined.

Little by little, Facebook sunk its hooks into me. I heard from other writers that editors and agents expect a writer to establish a presence on the Internet. So, I found a fabulous virtual assistant and she created a website and blog for me. The writers also explained that social media is helpful to gain name recognition, and that a writer should create a social media platform even before publication. That too?

If nothing else, I am coachable. So, I created a Facebook author page and author accounts on Twitter and Pinterest in addition to my personal pages. The V.A. waved her magic wand and cast a spell that copied my blog posts to my Facebook and Twitter accounts, and copied my author account Facebook posts to Twitter. The next thing I knew, I also had accounts with Goodreads, Tumblr, and Instagram.

I was sinking deeper and deeper into the social media quicksand. I began to spend an inordinate amount of time on my social media accounts. I felt overwhelmed trying to keep up with all of them. They were a giant time suck. My writing suffered from neglect. I knew I should be writing, but when I turned on my MacBook I couldn’t resist the social media siren call. I posted and tweeted and pinned much more than I wrote.

Two weeks ago, I viewed a TV news segment that dealt with a study of social media addiction and how widespread it is. The percentage of addiction was extremely high. The reporter listed the symptoms, behaviors, and the problems it causes. I had them all. That report could have been written about me.

How had it happened? How had I let it happen? How was I to shake the addiction?

One big obstacle that I see is that I can’t quit social media completely because of the professional accounts I set up and need to maintain. I’m pretty sure I have way too many of them. It takes too much time away from my writing to keep up with them all. I decided to eliminate all but three professional accounts: Facebook, Pinterest, and Twitter. I’m going to drop my personal Pinterest and Twitter accounts and cut way back on my personal Facebook posting. I’ll follow my family and friends and unfollow the pages of news and political organizations that especially tempt me to engage in controversial political debates.

The first step I took to get my social media obsession under control was to remove the social media apps from my iPhone. That iPhone is always with me, and those apps made it far too handy and tempting to post all day long and into the night. It doesn’t help that Facebook keeps encouraging me to post because all my friends want to hear from me. Of course, they do. My posts are utterly fascinating. ?

After deleting the social media apps from my IPhone that first day, I began to feel the symptoms of social media withdrawal. I felt disconnected, out of the loop, in the dark. Someone somewhere was posting something of interest to me or something with which I would disagree, and I was missing out. The knowledge that I was missing out tasked me. I struggled through the day and night, tormented by the lack of a social media fix.

The following morning, I woke and reached for my iPhone. It was my daily habit to check Facebook first thing. What’s this? No social media apps! It was with chagrin that I recalled deleting them. What was I thinking? I was so tempted to restore them. Instead, I pulled up my big girl pants and soldiered through the day without them.That night, I logged into the three professional accounts on my MacBook. I spent a short time on each. I checked in, posted a few things, and replied to a few others. I practically broke out in a cold sweat when I logged out.

So far today, I haven’t checked any of my social media accounts. I revised a chapter in my WIP and wrote this post. I got so involved in writing that I didn’t feel the urge to check social media. I probably will tonight when MG logs onto Facebook on his iPad and starts regaling me with details of what everyone is posting. If any posts have something to do with family, I may check to see for myself.

The ultimate game plan is to tame the social media beast by whatever means necessary, to concentrate on my writing, and to strive toward publication. I hope I have enough will power to keep from backsliding. I have my fingers crossed. I also have MG to nag me if I show signs of weakening.

As you can see, I’m not attempting to quit social media cold turkey. That isn’t entirely possible. I suppose you could describe my limited quitting efforts as lukewarm turkey. Hey, whatever works, right?

Whatever side of the aisle you’re on, by now you must be sick of being labeled a deplorable, a racist, a bigot, an imbecile, a libtard, a socialist, a communist, a snowflake, or whatever the politically charged label of the day may be.

One by one my family members grew weary of having to wade through toxic political posts, not to mention condescending lectures from the politically correct police, fake news, and conspiracy theories, in order to get a glimpse of pleasant posts and photos from family and friends that we actually wanted to see. Finally, we all had enough.

I mentioned to our Firstborn that we should consider having a Facebook family page of our own where we could post our family news and photos so we don’t have to put up with all the negativity on our personal pages. He took the suggestion and ran with it. He created the Family Stuff Only Zone Facebook page and sent our family members a notification.

Everyone,

I created this group as a place where we can simply share updates on our families. I realized by completely leaving Facebook I gave up access to stay connected to you guys. No politics, no rants, no judgement. Just cute adorable things that our kids are doing – that kind of stuff.

Now I skip past my personal page as quickly as I can to get to our Family Stuff Only Zone page to see news and photos of my sons and their families, my sister and her family, my in-laws and their families, and I post happy news and fun photos of my own. This is what Facebook ought to be like, once was like, and hopefully will be like again someday.

Feel free to copy what we’ve done. It will do wonders for your blood pressure.

I remember the endearing photos and videos my family and friends posted on Facebook to share their family activities and major milestones. On Facebook, I could see them all in one place instead of in individual emails or texts. It’s so convenient.

I enjoyed the crazy quizzes, and the charming memes of cute kitties, precious puppies, and adorable babies that made me smile or chuckle. My favorite is the meme of a ticked off cat hugging a sorrowful-looking dog. The cat says something like, “Tell me who called you a bad dog. I will punish them.” I actually laughed out loud at that one.

There were many amusing videos too, like the one of the cockatoo rocking out to Queen’s “Another One Bites the Dust.” He never missed a beat! I still smile when I think about it.

Well, folks, that was before partisan politics got its meathook into social media sites such as Facebook and Twitter and turned them into anti-social media sites. They have become repositories for hatred, intolerance, profanity, insults, threats, and all around rudeness on a monumental scale, overwhelming everything good about Facebook. It’s like scrolling through a minefield when I log in to see what my family and friends are up to.

Sometimes, against my better judgment, I respond to an outrageous post. I always regret it afterward. Having to defend myself against the insulting backlash just isn’t worth posting a sensible response. Friendly persuasion doesn’t change a closed mind that engages in unfriendly persuasion. What makes these intolerant individuals think they can persuade others to adopt their way of thinking by bullying and insulting them? It boggles the mind.

Recently, a friend who is a Trump supporter messaged me privately that she was awarded two tickets to the inauguration. She was excited about it but said she wouldn’t post it on Facebook because she was afraid there would be a hateful backlash from her liberal friends. How sad and troubling is that?

Just the other day, a family member posted on Facebook that she wouldn’t be using her Facebook account in the future because she couldn’t take all the negativity on the site any longer. She informed us all that from then on she would be posting her family photos and videos on Instagram and invited her friends and family to join her there. It was a very tempting invitation. I thought it over and I decided I will join Instagram, but I will continue posting on my Facebook and Twitter author pages.

My personal Facebook page is another matter. I decided I will go through and do some housekeeping. I won’t unfriend anyone–not yet anyway–but I’ll unfollow a lot of people I friended and pages I liked because of the offensive content of their frequent politically-charged and negative posts. We’ll still be Facebook friends, but I won’t see any of their posts. I’ll miss seeing their positive and friendly posts, but it’s a tradeoff that is necessary and acceptable for the sake of my elevated blood pressure and my sanity.

When I hear that the politically-charged rude and negative atmosphere on Facebook and Twitter has returned to one of civility, I’ll participate on my personal pages more fully again. Until then, “Hello, Instagram!”

In this age of political correctness, humor is gone, understanding is absent, and tolerance has disappeared–especially during this election year. Mama mia! Extended families have turned into armed camps. Longtime friendships have ended in shouting matches and have been rendered irreparable. No political differences are worth tearing a family apart. No political differences are worth losing a single friend over.

For example, take Facebook. Please. Take Facebook and run it through a carwash or some manner of thorough cleansing. The language! The vitriol! The condescension! The insults! The unfriending! It’s unbelievable. Why is it so impossible to be respectful and kind to one another? Facebook needs a thorough scrubbing followed by a one hundred eighty degree turn in the direction of civility.

When I was in college, as a response to a wave of random acts of violence, there was a grassroots campaign to do the opposite–commit random acts of kindness. I’ve always believed that was an inspired idea. The act of kindness doesn’t have to be anything grandiose. It could be as simple as a compliment to a total stranger. I do it all the time, and I have a selfish reason. It makes me feel good when I make someone else feel good. Here are three examples of what a simple compliment can accomplish.

Just recently, when MG and I were seated in a restaurant at a table beside a frazzled young couple with a cute but fussy months-old baby, I told them their baby is a cutie. Their frowns immediately turned upside down. They absolutely beamed when they thanked me. Why? Your family and friends will of course tell you your baby is cute and adorable, but it’s different when a total stranger tells you that.

Many couples travel to Las Vegas to wed. MG and I were there several years ago when I spied a young bride-to-be in a gorgeous gown. The poor thing was looking very tense. Jitters and  strain were evident in her expression. I remembered how nervous I was on my wedding day, so I approached her and told her that her gown was gorgeous and she looked gorgeous in it. Her smile lit up the room and she appeared much less tense. Same reason as before. A total stranger–not her mom or her maid of honor–told her that she looked as beautiful as she hoped she looked.

Sometimes a random compliment can pay unexpected dividends. MG and I went to Italy on tour for our tenth anniversary. For our tour group’s meals, we were herded into huge dining rooms at each hotel and were served prearranged standard meals, no menus to choose from–except at one hotel. At that hotel, we ordered from menus and the food was fabulous. On our way out the first evening, I spoke to the maitre’d. I paid the hotel’s dining service the compliment that its food was the best of all the hotels at which we had stayed. He smiled, looking extremely pleased, and thanked me. The next evening, two couples, MG and I sat at a table in the middle of the dining room. A waiter came to us and told us that people from our tour group were not allowed to sit at that table. He insisted we sit elsewhere. We were stunned but we complied. The only remaining table was right beside the kitchen door. At that point, the maitre’d I complimented approached our table. He said, “This is not a good table. Come with me, please.” He sat us at that taboo table in the middle of the dining room and assigned three waiters to serve us. One of them was the waiter who chased us from the taboo table when we walked in. We drew incredulous stares from the other diners. They had to be wondering who were we to deserve such preferential treatment. Were we VIPs? Were we nobility? Were we celebrities? Had they asked, I would have told them that we were ordinary folk who expressed admiration for the hotel’s dining service and the staff was expressing appreciation for the compliment.

It never hurts to be kind–and sometimes it pays to be kind.