Do you ever feel that your life isn’t ‘lux’ enough?
The effect that social media has on our psyches is yet to be fully explored and that’s partially because the experience is so fantastically insular.
I am a recovering social media addict and, although all of the services that I was an active user of were free, I very nearly ended up bankrupting myself in the quest to create a home that matched up to my unrealistic expectations.
To truly claim the title of ‘addict’ it’s important to outline the kind of effect that this technology had on me, which is difficult to do, because as much as it’s tempting to simply blame the networks, and the brands, and the influencers, and the algorithms; if it weren’t for my own weaknesses and insecurities I would never have buried myself in such a terrible hole.
Although my slide from casual scroller to full time phone abuser was gradual, when I reached my peak I was on my phone for over 8 hours a day. It started innocuously enough. I got a Facebook account in 2007 and soon I found that I’d been put in contact with all of my friends from high school. It had been years since I’d seen many of these people and it seemed that a cultural gulf had opened up between us and them.
At this point in my life I was living with my husband and daughter. I’d had to give up my career in order to have her and, as a result, we’d seen a serious drop in our household income. We weren’t surprised by this, but the financial sacrifice meant that we were forced to downsize our home and get used to a more humble way of life.
On Facebook I was constantly confronted by the successes of other people, whether it was a promotion in a new job, moving into a new home or a new car. As I slipped into abusing social media even more, I soon grew jealous of the lives of other people. Instagram offered an even more exaggerated perspective on the world and made me feel even more hopelessly inadequate. How was it possible that so many people could have so much, and I could have so little?
Before I knew it I was making purchases that I couldn’t afford and planning out new posts that would show all the world how I wasn’t as miserably poor and destitute I actually was. It started with just a few humble purchases, some makeup to treat myself, a new toy for my daughter because she had been good, soon though I was making grander plans with even grander price tags. Our little home didn’t feel like the home that I deserved, so I started improving it.
My husband only started noticing my problem when a set of modern internal doors were delivered to the house. They cost around £1200 in total – money that we didn’t have, because I’d spent so much of it on useless status symbols that we simply had no need for. That was the point when I was told that I had a problem, I was just sorry that it had turned into a problem for the whole family…