I post anonymously on Internet forums about things that interest me. Over the years, I’ve made the odd comment about my personal life. Rarely, I may see an old discussion thread come up and notice that I had posted in it years ago, so I look back and see what I had said. Recently, I saw an old post of mine talking about my great relationship with my wife. Ugh.
On Twitter, I have my Jack account that I use as an extension of this blog, a place to keep in contact with ‘the tribe’: a support group of sorts, mostly consisting of fellow betrayed spouses. I also have a personal Twitter account that I log onto maybe once a year at most. I had created it mostly to follow personalities that I am/was interested in but the novelty wore off real quickly.
Then there’s Facebook, the platform I’ve been on (as myself, that is) the longest. It serves a purpose, I suppose. I can find old friends and they can find me. The other day an ex-girlfriend, Sadie, added me, though I don’t know why. I also follow certain artists and events I’m interested in. It’s good to be in the know about upcoming concerts and whatnot.
One thing that annoys me about Facebook is the ‘memories’ posts that come up for me to share. I don’t like memories. They’re all lies. I don’t want to see what I posted a few years ago, that was when I was mistakenly under the impression that I was married when I wasn’t. All of those memories are garbage now, the whole lot of them. And memories from before it happened aren’t much better because I just see memories of me doing absolutely nothing to justify what she would later do, memories that I guess she distorted into something else so they wouldn’t factor into what she was doing.
I’m almost out of the part where all Facebook memories are bad. The most recent one to show up was from last year, where Carol was on the camping trip with the kids. That one wasn’t a lie because then we were single, after I had seen the truth. Still, it’s not a joyous occasion to look back on. In less than a month, Facebook memories from a year ago will be of our new life together. I won’t have to ignore all memories on Facebook anymore, just the ones from more than a year ago.
I really don’t care for Facebook, but I’ll log on, ‘like’ a few posts, say a ‘happy birthday’ or two, and be done with it. I had to make sure to post pictures of our recent camping trip for my family to enjoy, and to give Facebook a new memory to show me next year. Photos don’t really mean anything, anyway. What do they do besides show us how much we’re aging, and keep us looking anywhere but the present? Only the memories in my head are what matters.
A silly thing about social media such as Facebook is the people projecting an image of themselves that is not at all based on their reality. I’m sure you know some people that you’re rather close to in real life, who you don’t recognize at all on their social media accounts. Look at them, promoting themselves as such fine examples of human perfection to people who know them less than you.
I told you a bit about a nightmare couple we dealt with in A Summary of my Vacation. This was a couple with issues worse than ours who, instead of working on said issues, turned to alcoholism and hard drug use. The wife screamed at the husband and hit him, and the husband would tell anyone he could about all the terrible things his wife had done in their marriage. This was a frequent occurrence on their vacation, but what did the wife’s Facebook posts say? “Having a blast with my best friend in the world, my loving husband!” This would be accompanied by pictures of them smiling together poolside, looking like they’re having the time of their lives.
This social media phoniness seems to bother Carol far more than it does me. I find it mildly annoying but also quite funny while Carol sees no humour in it. She’s just downright angry over it, which is interesting considering her lies and secrets. But, that’s Carol for you. She’s always hated relationship drama, cliches, liars, hypocrites, and people who stayed in abusive relationships all while being/doing all those things.
Ah, whatever. That’s life. Photographs have always been lies, haven’t they? Just how many smiles in pictures over the decades have actually been genuine? Nowadays, you just take more of them, share them with a larger audience, and share phony tales to go along with them. But it didn’t take the invention of social media for people to hide things about themselves.
I see a lot of specialists due to my ‘condition’. Yesterday, I had my annual check up with one of them. I didn’t care what the results were going to be, but I think that was partially due to the fact that all has been stable for the last few years. Still, I’ve been testing my limits a little bit and was mildly curious to see if pushing it would result in new kidney stones. It didn’t.
While I waited to speak with the doctor, I thought a bit about my upcoming heart tests. At the time, I decided that I neither need nor want Carol by my side when I get my results for that. Today, I’m not sure whether I want her there or not. I’m not incredibly concerned about the tests but I shouldn’t have to do this alone. Yet, I feel that if it was bad news, I’d want to keep it to myself this time around. Most of the attention I got when everyone thought I was going to die was quite unwanted.
Instead of leaving the hospital as soon as I could like I normally do, I went for a walk. I decided to seek out the hospital chapel. I’m no Catholic and my interest in any Judeo-Christian based faiths has long ago run its course. I just wanted to go to a quiet place to meditate for a moment. For once, I was going to a chapel because I wanted to, not because I had to.
It was an interesting new feeling, the feeling that I belonged anywhere, that I’m here and I’m free to go wherever I please.
I’m free to choose my own path.