It’s been a while since I last posted something about mental health.
The reason for that is partly because it’s summer, and I’m conveniently ignoring everything I’m worried about, but it’s also because I’ve been on antidepressants that have been making me feel normal.
But sometimes you just have a bad day.
Usually my bad days come when I forget to take my meds and I get into an argument with someone.
For example, today I joined Twitter for the first time. I posted a few tweets, including one that essentially said, “If you vote for Jill Stein, you give your vote to Donald Trump. You know, the guy who wants Russia to take over” and then followed that up with a few hashtags.
And then, to my surprise, someone replied to me. And so I was thinking, ‘Great! A Twitter feud! I’ve always wanted to know how that feels!’
So in the course of my ‘Twitter feud’, I insulted the guy’s intelligence (I’m not proud of it, but on the other hand, he would rather have Donald Trump as president over a kind, strong, intelligent woman who would lead our country forward).
But then that guy proceeded to make me feel like an idiot for supporting Hillary Clinton, made me feel even more guilty for calling him unintelligent, quoted one of my tweets to mock me, and all around made me feel defensive and terrible about myself.
My parents advised me to stop because I was essentially debating a wall, but the thing is, this guy was worse than a wall. Not only was he unwilling to listen to my point of view, but he made me feel like shit for having a different point of view in the first place. Walls don’t do that.
To save the little bit of my sanity that was left, I blocked him (imagine that; on Twitter for three hours, and I’ve already been in a Twitter feud and blocked someone). But even after I blocked him, I still felt pretty crappy. Part of it was because I still felt sort of guilty about insulting his intelligence, even if during our argument he had proven me right several times over. But mostly, I was worried that once he realized that I had blocked him, he would go and make fun of me to his followers. I know it shouldn’t matter, but it does.
And then the aftermath: I was so frustrated that I snapped at my father, punched a wall, and then had a panic attack in the bathroom. I’m not proud of it. And it was all because I let some tweets get to me. I shouldn’t have let a guy with a major superiority complex get to me, but I did. And I regret that.
And so I’ve learned my lesson. Not only is Twitter a terrible place to go if you have social media anxiety, but that old saying ‘Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me’ is BS. Because sticks and stones I can take, but cruel words will almost always get to me.