So, longtime readers of this blog are well aware of the fact that I have seizures that occasionally culminate in postictal confusion where I believe it’s a different date when I wake up. I like to jokingly call it “time travel.”

Recently, I had a larger seizure (which is increasingly rare for me since making changes to my diet), and when I woke up I was certain it was 2003.

16 years is a huge difference when it comes to life, the news cycle, and, well, pretty much everything! It really freaked me out to know that I was married to a different man, had a 4-year-old child, and owned property in Chicago.

Back in 2003, Chicago was probably my least favorite American city because of some ridiculous shenanigans that occurred here in 1996/1997, when my then-best-friend moved here from Memphis. We made some terribad decisions together on New Year’s Eve. Anyhow — in 2019, Chicago might be my favorite American city — and not just because I live in the burbs. It has all the best things of Boston (accessible, inexpensive public transit), Los Angeles (arts!), and Nashville (low cost of living for a major city) without the detriments of each of those cities.

Anyway, I found myself compulsively scrolling Facebook after I came back from the confusion. I habitually check my timeline when I come back from postictal confusion to try to jog my memory and make sure that I am up to date. This time, I couldn’t look away.

Now, I understand that fight/flight/freeze is a real thing, with or without mental health issues — but I also recognize that I have both the opportunity and obligation to opt out of the info stream that is causing exacerbated problems! So, rather than continuing to be affected by psyops, I am taking a social media break.

The constant news cycle and prolific articles about what is happening in our country are genuinely terrifying. It was so bad that I was feeling an intense need to run to another country, with or without my family. And that’s a terrible, terrible idea.

It is really difficult to not be constantly checking my phone right now. The fear is real. The anger is real. But the idea that staring at the dumpster fire will help me feel more in control of the situation is, well, just false.

One of the things that I’m really concerned about is that I participate in a ton of communities on Facebook that are designed to help with accountability and support for chronic illness, weight loss, and mental health. I don’t want the people in my communities to think that I’m abandoning them, but I have to put my and my family’s safety and wellbeing first.

Fortunately, having a memory problem makes it a little bit easier to avoid social media. I was able to log out of all of my accounts on all of my devices, and I genuinely do not know my passwords to get into, well, anything. That road block is far more effective than the BlockSite app at stopping me from logging in despite my better judgment.

So, if you need me, or if you want to respond, please email or text or ping me here by replying.

Hope you’re all having a happy Friday. ❤