I realise I am at risk of this blog teetering into misery memoir and that is not at all my intention. I guess I kind of want to get the story over to start to talk about some of the themes. Anyway. We are near the end of the story so far, or at least, the very difficult parts. I wanted to pause in this post to draw breath and also to talk about the versions of us, for it is that that has been one of the prompts for me to start writing.
There was a day, almost exactly two years ago where I interrupted my usual frivolous instagram posts to say that I was struggling with anxiety:
Looking back, there were 274 comments on this post and dozens of direct messages. Many of these were messages of support but overwhelmingly the two things that struck me were people saying that they would never have known, together with what a relief in a way it was for them to hear that they weren’t the only ones struggling. And of course, my saying that I was suffering with anxiety was of course the tip of the iceberg. I am not quite sure what prompted that post that day, but most likely a message or comment from someone around how lovely and carefree my life was compared to theirs. And all of a sudden it struck me just how much we present versions of us to the outside world, and whilst that is entirely our prerogative what it can do is give a false or perhaps, narrow impression, to the extent that it can be entirely unhelpful and even harmful to others. Conversely, presenting a wider version of us might be helpful, if we can bear to do it.
I don’t mean to be preachy. I know because people have told me, that for some people this suggestion is completely out of the question, and I understand that. In truth, telling my own story is one thing, and my choice, but to tell the story of my family is quite another, and needed to be a family decision. What I also know is that for much of the time my family was in crisis, I had neither the time or inclination to broadcast it to the world. It is exhausting being in it, let alone putting it out there. At least, it was for me. Finally then, writing things down makes them feel very real, and at times, I didn’t need it to feel any more real than it did.
Remember that pincushion? And the events leading up to when I found it? I did actually post it on my grid, and this is what I wrote:
Understatement of the year. Although I am note sure of how long that pincushion had been there at that stage, more perhaps that I had been reminded of it’s presence.
The photo of mum and I on my last post? This is what I wrote:
So hints then, but no more than that. Although, things were so raw, and so complex, I would have exceeded the word count.
Scrolling back though my grid, I did find this next post and whilst I don’t actually remember the incident, I do remember the morning after the night before, when this photo was taken. I do also remember just how distressed I was, and you wouldn’t have known to look at me. Although on scrolling back through my grid as I wrote this, I am struck by the stress and anxiety I can see etched on my face through much of the last four years. It’s odd isn’t it, in a way, that I even kept on posting. As if it was as important to me to keep up appearances to myself as it was to keep up appearances on my grid, even when I had not and probably would never meet most of the people who would see it. Something here about putting on foot in front of the other, and keep on keeping on. Or maybe just kidding myself.
Something I said in my last post resonates here, the extremes of dealing with sometimes life and death situations, and then, in this post, I think I was about to drop one of them for maths tutoring.
And also, what a truly terrible scarf I knitted there. Arm knitting, remember that?! I digress. ( But see that humour coming back to lighten things up!)
So where am I going with this? Simply to say that we all edit the version of ourselves we choose to share. Even if we aren’t on social media, but in our private and working lives. We none of us see much more than a fraction of what goes on in other peoples lives. So two things:
- Be kind. You don’t know what is going on for someone else, in fact you probably have no idea.
- If you can, show a little vulnerability. It will help others, and you never know, you might also find it helpful.
- Understand that what you see on social media is both real and unreal. It’s the edited version of us that we are prepared to or are able to share. We are none of us Pollyanna. We don’t all knit our own yoghurt, or get up at 4am to squeeze in two hours of yoga before eating a pro-biotic breakfast and then running the 5km to the office barefoot before broadcasting a webinar on wellbeing. (And if you do, no judgement here). Most of us will have a pile of washing/ dishes/ sex toys (!)/ bills/ household detritus that has been shoved just out of shot. And we will all have our share of life’s challenges going on, and it’s not a competition.
Here endeth today’s sermon. Said Miss Preachy. Who can’t count.
At first – on Instagram – I liked you for your dresses (or rather the way you dress ;o). Now I am admiring you for your words and your profound and deep thoughts shining through here. So: thank you very much for both, dear Lisa! I think it is legitimate to “broadcast” this edited version of ourselves on the one hand, it is a bit like “life as it should be”. A lot of us are striving for what is the best version of ourselves, I think, which is ok. At least as long as it is no contradiction to real life, but a part of it, and as long as it does not put us or others under any kind of pressure. Serenity in dealing with social media is probably a good idea. Have a lovely afternoon!
Kerstin
Hi Kerstin. I love that idea of serenity. And like you, I am not averse to social media largely being an idealised version of ourselves, I guess it’s just that for some people they might not realise that, and that can be harmful. A dose of reality every now and then is probably about right! Thanks so much for taking the time to comment!
We all do it Lisa.. edit our lives of all the bad stuff, sometimes insta is just a wee escape from all of that.. much love lynne xx
Yes and there is nothing wrong with a bit of escapism!
I sit and wonder when the day will come that I’m not riddled with anxiety. Not constantly watching if my body will go into spasm. I just want to move freely without thinking.
But luckily, I tell myself, I live in a lovely home with a wonderful man and have fabulous friends and family.
I hide it all mostly, like most of us do.
Your openness is to be applauded dear Lisa
Lynn xx
Thankyou Lynn. Although I know not everyone can do it and that’s OK too. We’ve got you!
Do people really get up and eat yoga at 4am and knit a 5km run? 😉Reading between the lines is difficult unless you can see the signs isn’t it? Great to see a post with AJ on your feed and as I always say check in on your “strongest” friends too!
I reckon! Or so it would seem!!
Joyeaux, I just love the last bullet point paragraph Lisa! Thank you 🙏 I agree it’s something I have never done, put out there how I am really feeling. Those days I don’t post, I shrivel up and hide. I think what you are doing is both inspiring and important. X
Thankyou Chrissie. Hiding is an equally understandable and legitimate response – we do what we need to do. I’ve done a huge amount of that – it’s only now that I feel able to talk about it. Take care my friend.
Well said as usual Lisa.
We’re all guilty of sanitising our posts to an extent. I guess it’s because social media can be a moment (or longer) of escapism for the poster and/or the viewer. If we all posted our lowlights it would become very mundane, but “keeping it real” is grounding. Some people just aren’t able to read between the lines and for those especially it’s heartening to see that those people they’ve placed on virtual pedestals are also only human.
Keep on keeping on Mrs H. Lovely to see AJ too.
XXX
Thanks Pam. Of course, depending on how much it matters, lowlights can lose you followers and if that matters to you then you might not be so inclined to do it. I guess it’s each to their own, and for some people social media is an escape and they don’t engage with it in order to have real life reflected at them. I do worry though that it can have a really negative impact for people who really struggle, and imagine everyone else is doing brilliantly. And then you can also get criticised for being too open – I haven’t experienced that directly although I am absolutely sure it will come – but there has been a lot of that about lately and from some places that have surprised me. Ah, life!
Dear Lisa
Another wonderful and moving post.
Your account has always been a breathe of fresh air, your dresses, your coats, your snippets of family life, your sense of humour and your honesty about a life less than perfect, a normal life! People follow you and love you for all of the above.
P.S that truly is a terrible scarf!!!!
Love
Lyn
You become a master of disguise…. At my worst I would get up as my feet hit the floor ‘Caroline’ would appear.. That said I had gone to bed praying not to wake up so was a tad disappointed… My life spent not wanting to upset others, don’t be sad/angry/tearful at home, be professional at work.. Always upbeat- the life and soul…. One day like it or not the disguise slips and out it all comes. Its great that you have opened up, someone who appears so together and ‘has it all’ just shows it can happen to anyone! Xx
I was raised in a family where a “bella figura” (a beautiful image) was VERY important. My parents were (and still are) incredibly fussy about etiquette and appearances. There were certain subjects that were off limits and never discussed. Unfortunately, this programming in childhood to only “present” versions of ourselves in public, sets the tone for behaviour into adulthood.
It has only been in recent years that I have begun to open my heart and share things that I have struggled with. Sometimes it has come with great discomfort. Mostly, it has come with incredible connections, which is really another form of love. Along the way, I have learnt that LIFE IS DIFFICULT. For everyone. At different times and at different levels. My struggles are not rare. Neither are yours.
I commend your courage in opening your heart and sharing your difficult days. You are bravely doing what so many can not. There are many who are going through similar days to you. My brother and his stepdaughter included. He’s not on IG, but I read him your last 2 posts. He had no words, just sat quietly and cried. Connection, funny thing that.
You don’t need to always show up with “roses and desserts”. I hope you feel safe in confiding to all that follow.
I remember you posting these odd slightly unnerving posts and thinking surely all must be well in the Cotswolds., but something wasn’t quite right and you were hinting at troubled times. I was quite envious of your delightful Pin cushion. (I cried when I read the true story and appreciated watching my son fiddle with mine last week and make random patterns) I read your list of recommended actions and knew you were going to say that none of the recommendations had been carried out. (No surprise there). I believe the only way to get through this is with your village. The village of other Mums in the same boat, the raw honesty of our teens situations should be open and not hidden. It shouldn’t be a secret we are not hiding a dirty secret here and yet it feels that way. But you as always give me hope that you can chip away at the powers that be. At the judgemental workers and the inner critic who tells you you’ve failed. You didn’t fail, we’ve evolved and we can’t cope. If we are faking to be adults, then it’s our kids that are telling us the truth, showing us how raw and painful their lives are. We are all the same village it’s just that some people need to open the doors and welcome their neighbours in. Kia Kaha
Hello – and thankyou for your message, and it made me smile a little. I really like that idea of being in the same village – the only option as you say is to get our arms around each other and find our way through. I will continue to chip away at system reform – although I am not hopeful. It is so hard to get your voice heard by the right people who have the power to make system change. But we must try.