Mental health but at what cost…

When I was a teenager, social media, while not universally understood to be a mire of depravity and despair, had nevertheless begun to attract healthy skepticism. “Hey,” said concerned parents. “Should we be worried about billions of strangers having access to minors, and what effect the veneer of Instagram perfection might have on everyone but especially minors?” Even this small amount of concern was enough to deter me. I didn’t want to be miserable and/or cyberbullied. The words “self care” were not common vernacular yet, but that was my general sentiment.

My folks didn’t allow me a phone until I was in sixth grade, and I didn’t have a smart phone until I was in high school. By the time I was the age they deemed allowable for me to have social media, ie. sixteen, I didn’t really even want it. In those days, SnapChat was a must; Everyone was using it. But I held out for a very long time, to the point where it was falling out of favor by the time I was on it. I sit comfortably on the Late side of the Innovation Adoption bell curve most of the time, unplagued by FOMO.

Now, as social media becomes the primary avenue for indie authors to market their books, I find myself years behind. I don’t know the trending audios. I don’t know how to be comfortable filming myself, or what angles showcase my chin the best (or don’t make me look like a Cabbage Patch, I’d settle for that). According to all available data, our attention spans are that of a goldfish’s now, too. What the bleep am I supposed to do about that?

But hey. At least my mental health is…healthy? I don’t even know. Should I have sacrificed my mental state ten years ago in exchange for Social Media Savviness now? Much to ponder, but not now, of course. Later, when all the dust of prepping for TKS’s release in March has settled, maybe I’ll meditate on it. For now, please enjoy my feeble attempts at social media-ing. I hope to entertain and baffle you in equal measure.