Turns Out I’m Not Immune

Watching social media do a number on my head

Remington Write

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Photo Credit — Remington Write / Catfish is ready for its close up

Welp, it seems that I’m just not all that special after all. I’ve been noodling around the fringes of social media for nearly two decades now and here I thought I was immune to the poison. In fact, I’ve bragged about it both in person and in writing. Newsflash: Nope.

Here’s how blind I’ve been to the detrimental effects social media — specifically that stoopid blue bird — until today’s years old. I just thought that wanting to sleep all the time was something we all are going through.

Maybe we are?

At any rate, I’m no stranger to the wily ways of rationalization, denial, and projection having barely escaped drug and alcohol addiction alive when I was 35 years old. I know how these gremlins work. At least I thought I did. I thought I could smell a rationalization sneaking up behind me from a mile away.

Denial is pretty insidious, too, but my rationalizer is top of the line.

Here are just some of the “reasons” I’ve been feeling edgy, cranky, and — here’s the dead giveaway — wanting to just sleep as much as possible:

  • Second bout of Covid
  • Suspicious mass in left breast
  • Biopsy of breast (benign, btw)

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