“Are you going to sleep?” I said, turning over to my f*ck buddy. We were wrapped in my bedsheets, but I wasn't quite ready to go to bed.
“I think so,” he said.
I sighed. “Do you ever just, like, think about the world, and all the evil in it, and…” I was rudely cut off by his snoring.
“Hey!” I screamed, shaking him.
“Huh? What? Jesus. Don't you ever just…shut up?” he said.
I looked off to the side ('twas my ~thinking~ face). “No,” I concluded. “I don't.” Because I don't just talk too much. I think too much. My brain doesn't want to shut off.
I'm envious of people like my f*ck buddy. I wish I could just f*ck, stop barking and roll over, like a dog. But even when I'm in the midst of doing something as mindless as having sex, I'm thinking a million things, and I have both a gaping desire and a need to spill everything brewing inside of me.
One of the ways I spill my guts is through Facebook.
I love Facebook. In the past couple of years, Facebook has kind of been reduced to a platform you can use to low-key stalk people, but remember how it started out? It started out being a place where people would post very specific, real-time statuses. People still get specific, but not in the way they used to.
I have been getting shamed left and right for my longing to make announcements to my Facebook friends. Here are some of the statuses I've posted:
OK, yes, they're ranty. I will acknowledge that much. But they also have some sort of purpose: to engage communities who are tripping up over the same sh*t as I am.
What's more is I don't feel vulnerable after confessing all the things that keep me up at night. I feel cleansed. Ranting is my way of juice cleansing.
And judging by not only the amount of feedback I get on my first-world love problems, but by the content of the actual responses, I know other people experience the same exact problems I experience. I'm just the only one ballsy enough to incriminate myself in the name of learning. So don't hate on me for facilitating the learning process. Hate the game.
I don't care if all the cool kids are using today is Snapchat. I'm like, Snapwhat? I'm a journalist, and I still don't know WTF that is.
The thing about Snapchat and Instagram is they don't really give you much insight into a person's life. Selfies and short videos are great, but what about racing thoughts? How about my Holden Caulfield-esque stream of consciousness that must be shared with everyone I know, and everyone I know's mother's mother?
And what if sometimes, I'm in the company of people who discourage me from being my true self? Like, what if posting a Facebook status while spending my Saturday at a stuffy, ritzy family cocktail party is the only thing getting me through the night?
And what if, God forbid, social media platforms are my way of connecting with the world -- or, more specifically, with people all the way in Thailand I might not get a chance to meet, but with whom I click nonetheless? Isn't that why Facebook was created in the first place?
My co-worker and friend Gigi yells at me for, in her words, “using Facebook like it's Twitter.” Well, I'm not going to apologize for treating Facebook like it's Twitter. How does anyone live with all their deepest, darkest secrets bubbling up inside of them, just waiting to be poured out? Waiting for someone, anyone, who's willing to listen?
When I keep that sh*t to myself, I end up tossing and turning at night. Such is the struggle of being someone who has too many thoughts to contain in a 140-character limit (Twitter, up your game).
If you don't want to hear about all that's tripping me up in life, maybe just -- oh, I don't know -- unfriend me. Don't shame me. Don't tell me I'm "overanalyzing," or have too much to say, or am throwing myself under a bus.
When I keep my thoughts to myself, I go to a dark place. Human connection sustains me in my limpest state. Sick Sheena especially tends to spiral, and when I'm all alone, cooped up in my coffin-sized studio apartment, it truly puts a smile on my face to know I'm really not alone.
The support of Facebook users means the world to me in those vulnerable moments. And something tells me that those Facebook commenters feel a sweet sense of release and camaraderie when commenting. That's cool. I feel you all.
So this one's for the people who don't know how to shut up. For the ones whose thoughts move faster than their mouths. Who NEED to reach out to other people through social media because it's easier to do it behind a computer than to do it IRL.
There's no such thing as oversharing in my book. Nothing is TMI. As humans, we are here to entertain, inform and, most importantly, connect.