This week I was told to 'get some perspective rather than drippy clichés' by a fellow Twitter user. Why? Because I tweeted using the hashtag #BPD(Borderline Personality Disorder)Chat about how I'd rather 'explore a shipwreck at the bottom of a colourful ocean than a cruise ship full of people all heading to the same destination'.
On receiving this response by somebody of whom I had never heard before, I felt annoyed. Not because this person had challenged my silly idea, I'm cool with that shit, but because it seemed like such a waste of time on his part, especially considering all the other stuff that's happening in the world and on the Internet.
I asked myself why somebody would seek out a completely random tweet which was intended to brighten up a handful of people's lives for ten seconds (at the most) and that was favourited by a maximum of seven and maybe retweeted twice, just to tell me it was inaccurate and drippy?
Now, I'm not in the habit of name calling or finger pointing. I enjoy Twitter and the people I interact with. We're all human and entitled to our say, we all make mistakes, we can all live our lives the way we want to and agree/disagree with whatever the hell we like. But nevertheless I checked his timeline and decided to pinpoint the state of his spelling just as casually as he targeted my mental health related tweet, and a couple of other boring things I'd mentioned in the days running up.
That's pretty much the end of the story. Other than to say that I don't think this guy was an accident. I think he showed up to remind me how to easily accept and allow the thoughts, feelings, anger and even infantile comments of others to flow through me without them having to feel any different from the positive and lighthearted communication I'm more used to within my group of friends on Twitter.
I'm not proud of my reaction or retaliation but I certainly won't be losing any sleep over it. It's been years since I experienced any untoward behaviour on the Internet. I'm 34, I'm a mum, I'm a teacher. I figured it was just a matter of letting go and getting on, letting go and getting on.
And so, without more ado, even though the above person attempted to continue our discussion further, I was quite desperate to get out of my drippy cliché diving gear, remove the octopus from my arsehole, let go and get on with the bloody dinner.
On receiving this response by somebody of whom I had never heard before, I felt annoyed. Not because this person had challenged my silly idea, I'm cool with that shit, but because it seemed like such a waste of time on his part, especially considering all the other stuff that's happening in the world and on the Internet.
I asked myself why somebody would seek out a completely random tweet which was intended to brighten up a handful of people's lives for ten seconds (at the most) and that was favourited by a maximum of seven and maybe retweeted twice, just to tell me it was inaccurate and drippy?
Now, I'm not in the habit of name calling or finger pointing. I enjoy Twitter and the people I interact with. We're all human and entitled to our say, we all make mistakes, we can all live our lives the way we want to and agree/disagree with whatever the hell we like. But nevertheless I checked his timeline and decided to pinpoint the state of his spelling just as casually as he targeted my mental health related tweet, and a couple of other boring things I'd mentioned in the days running up.
That's pretty much the end of the story. Other than to say that I don't think this guy was an accident. I think he showed up to remind me how to easily accept and allow the thoughts, feelings, anger and even infantile comments of others to flow through me without them having to feel any different from the positive and lighthearted communication I'm more used to within my group of friends on Twitter.
I'm not proud of my reaction or retaliation but I certainly won't be losing any sleep over it. It's been years since I experienced any untoward behaviour on the Internet. I'm 34, I'm a mum, I'm a teacher. I figured it was just a matter of letting go and getting on, letting go and getting on.
And so, without more ado, even though the above person attempted to continue our discussion further, I was quite desperate to get out of my drippy cliché diving gear, remove the octopus from my arsehole, let go and get on with the bloody dinner.
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