Lost in Cyberspace: The impact of social media on depression

Author's note: I would like to preface this post, lest it sound too negative, by saying I have met a few truly lovely people on Twitter and other such sites. These observations are about my experience overall, and are not meant to belittle the positive contributions of the few. Those few are the reason why I am still here.

I am relatively new to the world of social media as an active participant (rather than a studier thereof; I did learn its workings in college along with all my other web expertise); I think I have been actively engaged in it for about 3 or 4 months now. I got involved because I wanted to find my place in a community of active readers and writers, to get my work noticed on a realistic but noteworthy scale once I publish it, and to find work to purchase that really speaks to me as a person (a lot of mainstream media and books that are traditionally published really do not). I have always been a consummate 'outsider' and I hoped to find a community of other outsiders so we would all be outside together, which is in effect to no longer be outside at all.

I am also a sufferer of mental illness; bipolar disorder, to be precise and to satiate curiosity. Despite my illness, I have a long-honed positive attitude, high creative output, and lively energy, or... I did.

I cannot, of course, blame my experience with the internet alone for my current 'relapse' into negativity, depression, and frustration. I have been through hell in my 'real life' over the last year, and my life, like that of too many among us, has never been what you would call easy. I have experienced poverty, abuse, being abandoned by loved ones, etc. Be that as it may, I find social media is detracting from my recovery and overall state of mind, rather than being a venue for hope and support, and that is a problem. It's been bothering me so much that I sat down today despite advanced exhaustion to try to figure out all of Why.

One of the major reasons why is the complete lack of validation or being truly 'seen'. I feel like the internet kind of swallows me in a vast sea of white noise every time I spend too much time on it. It's not a feeling I am used to. For all my struggles in my offline life, I am used to my talents being validated by those I interact with, as long as I put in the required work to make them shine. I was always the student who, to give an example, spent long extra hours on their photography assignments and as such got straight As and their work shown off to the class as a good example. By contrast? Spend hours touching up, uploading, etc. those same photographs to deviantart, and not one person so much as takes the time to +fav most of them. I know I'm good, but it's hard to keep believing it sometimes, in that situation.

In my writing classes, my positive experience was always similar. I was diligent and paid close attention to what my professors told me, listening with humility and taking their advice, rather than being sensitive to constructive criticism, arrogant, or lazy. I was rewarded with brilliant grades and my poetry professor calling my progress over the semester an 'amazing literary journey'. He encouraged me to submit my work to publications, which is why none of my better work appears on this blog; I am saving it for such.

Basically, here's the thing: I'm used to hard work being rewarded with actual recognition. I don't expect to be treated like the second coming of Jesus for being able to write or do half decent digital art or what have you, and I have NEVER expected opportunities to simply come to me. 99% of talent is perspiration and persistence. I am beginning to fear, however, even that rule doesn't seem to exist in cyberspace, and that has a nose-dive sort of effect on depression. It removes the hope that things will get better, that all of this is going somewhere.

People with depression already tend to feel invisible. Entering into situations which validate that sensation is profoundly unhealthy. Similarly, we tend to be plagued by feelings of hopelessness, loneliness, and worthlessness. Forcing yourself (when you barely have the energy to even eat, or shower) to get up and do things like write or take photographs or create art, and to give those things your absolute BEST when you as a being feel like utter shit, is a monumental effort. It's like toiling your way up Mount Everest during a slow avalanche of molasses. And then to add to the above, the internet is FLOODED with absolutely jaw-dropping work in some areas (photography and digital art, primarily), so you are reduced to feeling like you could not compete even if you had the requisite energy to be prolific and the money needed to buy $10,000 worth of equipment and travel to picturesque locations. Recognition begins to seem like the byproduct of privilege, rather than hard work. That is oppressive.

Compounding all of that is feeling like 80% of those you follow on every site you share your work or words on is largely full of people who don't see you, but instead see you as one of many potential cows to be milked for money or greater exposure -- a surefire way to make one want to give up and shut off the computer. Even worse, it discourages one from bothering to create because obviously nobody that notices you even exist CARES about that aspect of you. You are just part of a perpetual, invisible audience.

Now, I really don't have anything against shameless self-promotion in and of itself, or advertising. I want other authors and artists to get recognized and validated for what they do. I want independent writers, bloggers, and those like me that suffer with limiting and sometimes invisible disabilities to be able to make a living in relative comfort. I'm not a greedy person; I want for others what I want for myself, quite freely. But when self-promotion is ALL YOU DO without taking the time to notice or talk to or promote your fellow independents or share anything of yourself, you contribute to a complete lack of community that comes around to make the life of newcomers entering the scene harder. Also, dear authors, let me just say this: I am far, far, far more likely to buy your work if we talk a little (even a few tweets!) and hit it off, or if you just talk about yourself as a person and your passions and show some of your heart, than if you just spam my twitter timeline with your book 589 times per day. In fact, I unfollow people who do the latter.

If we talk, or I like who you seem to be, and we have some modicum of chemistry as human beings, I am likely to assume your writing will speak to me, too. If I have no sense of who you ARE because all you do is self-promote without adding any context of actual self to it, I'm unlikely to purchase your work unless it looks bloody amazing. I am unlikely to even keep following your accounts; I don't follow 'brands', like Coke or Pepsi, so why should I make an exception and follow you? In my sense of the online community, we're here to build each other up and take a united stand against the limiting world of traditional publishing and media, it's not all about you trying to make a fast buck.

You would be amazed at the number of authors I have reached out to with an offer to help promote their work entirely without charge who have completely ignored me. No perfunctory "Thank you, I will keep that in mind" -- nothing. This rejection of basic human courtesy and generosity is something I have never experienced in the 'real world'. What is it about being behind a screen that encourages people to treat their fellow man as less than human? (Or less than animal; personally I have never ignored a dog or cat with that kind of flippancy, either.) It says something about the nature of people and the future of communication that is, in itself, depressing.

I think, personally, it's time to stop putting real personal effort into social media and put that energy back into doing what I love, and when I have more spoons, into submitting my work to physical publications and attending physical meetings of authors, artists, and poets. Aside from my blog and Goodreads, which actually does seem to have some semblance of community vibe, the rest is going to get my bare minimum of effort. Likewise, I am going to attempt a gradual shift away from following authors and start following more readers and everyday folk who use twitter to, well, socialize.

And to others suffering from mental illness or another disability, let me say this: What at first may appear like a great 'low spoons' method of interaction, validation, and exposure, may have too high a hidden cost, so choose where you invest your time wisely, and remember to keep good boundaries.

Peace and health to you all,

-Phoenix