Social media burn-out, it’s not just you

tânisi nitôtêmitik,

I’ve been largely absent from my main social media platform, Twitter, since at least November of last year. I don’t think I’ll ever be back, at least not to the extent I was before, and I wanted to discuss that a little bit, not because I think my reasons are unique or even interesting. The exact opposite really.

I have been very On Line for well over a decade, and for most of that time it was exhilarating. It allowed me to learn so much directly from people, and to share in return. It completely turned my world around and opened me up to histories and contemporary realities that aren’t taught in school, particularly the experiences of Black people, and people of colour in Canada. Idle No More in particular created this sort of excitement and opportunities to interact with other Indigenous people all across the country, and even internationally. That momentum kept going for a long time.

Being online also opened me up to a lot of harassment, an experience many people are quite familiar with. I started this blog under a pseudonym as a geeky language blog I didn’t expect anyone to read, and then I had a political post go viral. Without my consent, my real name was splashed all over a National Post article they lifted from me and that’s when I realized my internet security stank. Things got very scary for a while and very stressful for my family who feared for my safety, as I also feared for theirs.

Over the years I’ve developed a pretty thick skin and become inured to a lot of racist and misogynist attacks. It comes with the territory, and doesn’t even shock me anymore. I censor that stuff heavily on this blog; I don’t tolerate it and won’t give people an audience for that sort of thing. Out there on other social media platforms, I don’t have that power.

However, I also relied heavily on social media to feed my family. It’s how I’ve gotten paying gigs, how I’ve managed to fund-raise for things like the Métis in Space Land Trust, and how I’ve been able to pass money and opportunities on to other folks. I picked up a few dedicated stalkers over the years too, none of whom I’ve actually met in person, but who decided they hate my guts and have a lot of time to loudly declare it. Try as you might, these things do chip away at you. For the last two years, it was hard to stick around. I needed to be online in order to make ends meet as the sole-provider for my family. I also felt a profound sense of obligation to do remain, so I could boost mutual-aid efforts, advocate, educate, and yes, berate in the name of change. It wasn’t ephemeral, I know for a fact that we can make actual change online. I knew I would miss the many, many people I have met online who inspire and educate me and everyone else who comes into contact with them.

Then the pandemic hit. At first I was grateful for the support network I felt like I had online. After a few months of lock-down however, I began to realize that these networks couldn’t do what I needed them to. Like most people I started to become desperate for real visiting. In person contact. Moving to working online meant constant migraines from long days staring at the screen, little opportunity to see people’s faces, and the idea of socializing online held no appeal. In fact the few times I tried, I felt intensely alienated and depressed.

A lot of people are suffering, it’s sort of the baseline we’re at right now. Those people I felt so linked to online sort of fell away, because truly we do not actually know one another like that yet. It’s the people I know in the flesh who I’ve reached out to, who have reached out to me, and I began to feel a profound sorrow that I hadn’t been nourishing those relationships more. That I haven’t expanded my circles better. I don’t think I will ever take those relationships for granted again, those that flower over tea, wild laughter, karaoke, companionable silence, in person, or over the dreaded phone (honestly I’ve talked with folks more on the phone in the past few months than I have in 10 years). Many of those people I met online first, but we also became friends offline.

Please don’t think I have a tonne of friends by the way. I had to face the fact that I have very few people I consider to be friends in the sense that when the shit hits the fan, I can count on them, and they on me. I think this pandemic has highlighted for me, that we as human beings absolutely need relationality to survive. And it cannot be superficial or aspirational, it must be deep and expansive.

Every single one of us, at some time our lives, and mostly likely more than once, are going to have everything fall apart. Whether it’s mourning those that leave or are taken from us, or any of the many other life events that rattle our bones and leave us too heavy to function for a time, without people in our lives to help us endure, we can become lost. A year into this pandemic I can say that’s how I feel. Barely hanging on, struggling to support my loved ones as they flounder too. I needed to disconnect from the world a little, so I could draw inwards and be there for the ones who need me most. It has been incredibly difficult, and I know so many other people are going through this as well.

I’ve become incredibly anxious, unmotivated, unfocused, and desperately tired all the time. I am worried that my loved ones will die, one way or another, because of what we are experiencing right now. It’s not the first time things have felt this way, but it feels like the longest period without any reprieve, without some sort of hope that things will get better because the way we coped before was to be gloriously together, and that isn’t possible right now.

It makes everything else I used to worry about seem petty and pointless. My nights are spent with thoughts racing about how I can pay the bills, access supports, keep my job, and keep my loved ones alive. That above all. Mired in absolute terror that what I’m doing won’t be enough and we will lose yet another loved one to despair. I’ve had to lean heavily on the help and love of friends and family, and I hope that I’ve been able to reciprocate effectively. My world has narrowed to a day-to-day accounting; today was bad, perhaps tomorrow will be better. Every good day is a cause for celebration and anything I can do to make the day better is the most important work I have ever done.

Maybe it’s age too. I don’t feel able to keep up with social media trends any longer, nor do I feel compelled to do so. I don’t want to be so plugged in, because I know how much this draws me away from what is happening around me in my own life. It was worth it, for many years, but I think now for me, the benefits do not outweigh the desperate fearful pounding in my chest I get when someone sends me a twitter link. It’s often not even anything bad, I just feel like an overflowing bucket that cannot endure another drop.

I don’t see an end in sight, I am finding it very difficult to nurture hope. I beat myself up about this a lot, and I am trying to be more gentle with myself, as I am trying to be with others. I want to disappear into my family, into a thousand small tasks, quiet and unremarkable, undocumented for the wider public I felt so comfortable in front of for so many years. However, I also know that I need to keep up contact with folks on a wider scale to keep projects like the Land Trust moving; I’d just like to do it differently from now on, via kiyokêwin (visiting). Slower, to be sure, but also stronger I think. But even that seems like something for the distant future, and there is only the terrible present.

Anyway, I’ve had to access a lot of mental health and social supports for myself and my loved ones, and I’m just going to list some of those supports because I know many folks are also struggling. Some of these are Alberta and even Edmonton specific, others are Canada-wide. I know that people are struggling with a host of issues made so much worse by the pandemic, but I really want to encourage you to keep reaching out, whether it’s for yourself or someone else in your life. Internalized ableism can really do a number on our willingness to ask for help, but it’s vital to remind ourselves that others need us, I mean absolutely need us in their lives. We can’t help them if we fall apart. Whatever folks are battling with, there ARE supports. Be hopeful, be tenacious, be loving. If you need to strip away things that make you unwell, please do it. One of those things for me is social media, and I haven’t for a moment regretted letting it go.

• Edmonton Coordinated Youth Response, kanaweyim oskayak: for youth 15 – 24 who need food, shelter, clothing, medical support and referrals for things like employment & education, pregnancy services, addictions, mental health, safe spaces, housing. You share your information once by calling or texting 211, and they will hook you up with multiple participating agencies.

• Edmonton Child and Adolescent Mental Health Crisis Team: 780-407-1000. They are open 8 a.m. – 11:30 p.m. 7 days a week and can speak to family or directly to a child/teen who is experiencing any mental health crisis. Sometimes they have the ability to do home visits, and their focus besides stabilizing children/teens in crisis is to make referrals for services. We honestly were not getting the help we needed until we talked to these people. Please make sure your kids have their number.

• Trans Lifeline: 1-877-330-6366 in Canada. This is a peer support line by trans people for trans people. They also have an excellent resource page.

• The Alberta Indigenous Virtual Care Clinic: this free service offers phone or computer supports to any First Nations, Métis, or Inuit and their families.

• CityU Edmonton Virtual Counseling: CityU Edmonton’s Virtual Clinic offers no cost professional counseling sessions remotely to clients across Alberta through secure video conferencing (telepsychology). Services are provided by Master of Counseling Internship Students in their final year of the program under the supervision of a Registered Psychologist. All services are free.

• MNA Wellness Program: 1-877-729-0261 The Métis Nation of Alberta has a partnership with Alberta Blue Cross and Homewood Health that provides 12 hours of free, culturally appropriate counseling services. This service is available to MNA citizens of all ages, who have a valid Métis ID number.

• Alberta Métis Child and Family Services: they offer a number of programs for families, please call to see because UCP cuts have had a huge impact on what is available. Available to MNA and Settlement members.

• Alberta Mental Health Help Line: 1-877-303-2642 Provides toll-free 24/7 telephone service, which offers help for mental health concerns for Albertans. Provides 24/7 confidential, anonymous service, information about mental health programs and services, and referrals to other agencies.

• Edmonton Distress Line: 780-482-4357 Provides confidential, non-judgmental and short-term crisis intervention, emotional support and resources to people in crisis or distress. We also support family, friends and caregivers of people in crisis.

• Wellness Together Canada: The Government of Canada created “Wellness Together Canada.” This online portal provides FREE online resources, tools, apps, and connections to trained volunteers and qualified mental health professionals across Canada.

• Indigenous Hope for Wellness Line: 1-855-242-3310. If you are experiencing emotional distress and want to talk this service is provided 24/7, 7 days a week. Available in Cree, Inuktitut, Ojibway, English and French. kîspin kânohtê-pîkiswâtak awiyak osâm ê-pîkiskâtisiyan mahtêsa sêwêpimitaw 1-855-242-3310 êkwa ê-wî-nêhiyawipîkiskwâsit.

• Indian Residential School Crisis Line: 1-866-925-4419 Open 24/7

• Kids Help Phone: 1-800-668-6868 available 24/7. Their live chat is not available right now but texting is still an option.

• Addiction Help Line: 1-866-332-2322 The Addiction Helpline is a toll-free confidential service which provides support for those who are experiencing challenges with alcohol, tobacco, other drugs and gambling support. Information and referral to services. The Addiction Helpline operates 24 hour a day, seven days a week and is available to all Albertans.

• Alberta Family Violence Information Line: 780-310-1818 24-hour line to get anonymous help in over 170 languages

There are many other supports available, specific to provinces or territories, or even municipalities and counties. If you have the time and energy, putting together a list like this “for just in case” if you haven’t already, is a really good idea. Perhaps you will need it, or someone you love will, and I can tell you from experience that trying to figure this out during an active crisis feels nearly impossible. There are also many initiatives at the neighbourhood level to get people food, and other supplies. Call your local community centre and see what they have to offer.

I also know a lot of Indigenous people avoid hospitals and other kinds of health or social supports because of atrocious experiences and systemic racism – if you are cis, white, and able-bodied and can help support BIPOC loved ones in these situations, for example when dealing with triage nurses and doctors in the ER, consider offering to do so. Again, speaking from experience, having someone back you when things are falling apart can help remove a lot of barriers and get you to the supports you need. And please, please, please, try NOT to call the police when someone is experiencing a mental health crisis. Find out now what your local emergency mental health crisis team contact is.

I wish the best for you all, and I hope you have the supports you need, and can be the support needed to help yourself and your loved ones through this and anything else life throws at us.