Chapter 1: A Lockdown on Social Media

For the past few months, I have rigorously restricted access to my social media accounts, and the tranquility I've experienced has been remarkable.

I have been focusing on establishing healthier boundaries with social media. As my follower count grew on platforms like Twitter and Instagram, so did the influx of comments and direct messages. Unfortunately, the quality of these interactions diminished, leading to an overwhelming flood of noise rather than meaningful dialogue. While I once enjoyed using social media to connect with others about important topics such as social justice and neurodiversity, my notifications became a source of anxiety.

I felt myself transforming into a version of the Joker, rapidly losing patience with even the most innocuous inquiries. Questions about my personal life felt invasive, and despite my passion for giving advice, I found myself increasingly resentful of the complex issues that strangers would drop into my inbox.

A friend pointed out that my social media interactions were deviating from my principles of self-care and authenticity. My partner noted how I was expending emotional energy on people I hardly knew—energy that is particularly scarce for someone like me, who is Autistic and sensitive to social stimuli. Some followers even criticized my reactions, suggesting I had become overly irritable.

The audacity of those critiques struck a nerve. How could my audience demand my time and insights while simultaneously questioning my tone? Each notification felt like a barrage of expectations, leaving me feeling drained and overwhelmed.

Ultimately, I recognized that I was the architect of this chaos. I had chosen to create and maintain social media accounts, inviting the attention of thousands. If this arrangement was no longer serving my well-being or enhancing my writing, it was clear that I needed to make a change.

It was time to reclaim my peace and carve out the silence required to think and write clearly. In order to be a more effective writer and a supportive friend, I had to reassess my relationship with social media.

So, I turned off my comments and disabled message requests on Instagram and Twitter. Now, only those I regularly communicate with can send me messages. I limited notifications to the people I follow, transforming these platforms into private spaces for genuine connections. Additionally, I restricted many of my Twitter threads to replies from friends only.

The result has been pure bliss. I haven't experienced such mental clarity and solitude in years. Here are some of the many benefits that come from this social media lockdown:

1. Reduced Notification Anxiety

Like many, I became a compulsive app-checker during the pandemic, seeking social interaction in a time of isolation. However, the constant barrage of notifications was both exhilarating and exhausting. As my platform expanded, the stakes grew higher, exposing me to a wave of hateful comments and misinformation.

Now that my posts are comment-free, I can let my words stand alone. There's no need to engage with individuals who misunderstand my content or to correct blatant misinterpretations. If I choose to step away from social media for days, I can do so without the pressure of moderating comments or extinguishing potential conflicts.

2. Disallowing Misinformation

Comment sections function as platforms for disseminating information, regardless of whether you endorse the views shared. By keeping my comment section open, I inadvertently provided a stage for potentially harmful or misguided opinions.

While I would remove the most offensive comments, I could never keep up with the flood of misguided assertions. For instance, claims that the term "transsexual" is inherently problematic, or misconceptions regarding autism diagnosis, flooded my posts.

Why should I allow my platform to amplify false narratives? It made little sense to give a voice to anyone who wanted to share their unexamined beliefs in my space. This realization marked a pivotal moment in my understanding of social media responsibility.

3. Reclaiming Writing Time

Previously, my inbox was inundated with repetitive inquiries that individuals failed to recognize as common. I felt obligated to provide answers to questions I had already addressed in my writing, from inquiries about autism to recommendations for reading on abolition.

I realized that my responsibility as an educator did not extend to answering the same questions repeatedly. My work is documented in various formats—on my blog, in threads, and in my published books. Once a project is complete, it lives on, allowing me to focus on new ideas rather than getting stuck in a cycle of repetitive responses.

4. Less Resentment Towards Humanity

With fewer demands on my time, I found myself more patient with those around me. It’s easy to feel drained when you’re constantly responding to random inquiries. My upbringing conditioned me to feel responsible for others’ emotions, leading to compassion fatigue.

Once I stopped inviting this emotional drain, I discovered that I could engage more meaningfully in my real-life relationships. My boundaries became clearer, allowing me to direct my attention where it truly matters.

5. Rediscovering the Joy of Reading

Engaging with social media often felt like a chaotic form of reading that lacked satisfaction. I entered a cycle of scrolling and battling over contentious topics, which deprived me of the contemplative peace I craved. Since closing off comments and DMs, I have devoured books like never before.

Works like The Dawn of Everything and The Recovering have provided me with insights and the intellectual nourishment I had longed for. My eyes appreciate the break from screens, and I can finally enjoy reading without distraction.

6. Diminishing App Engagement and Advertiser Revenue

Social media is crafted to be addictive, using various tactics to keep users engaged. I realized that keeping comment sections open not only drained my energy but also contributed to advertisers profiting from my attention.

By prioritizing my peace over potential engagement metrics, I’ve reclaimed my time and focus. I no longer feel compelled to feed the outrage machine that drives social media algorithms.

7. Breaking Free from Parasocial Relationships

Frequent sharing of personal experiences can lead to parasocial connections, where followers mistakenly believe they know me intimately. While it’s wonderful to foster goodwill among my audience, it’s crucial to distinguish between genuine relationships and superficial fandom.

One interaction stands out: after shutting off comments due to a heated discussion, someone messaged me, accusing me of "shirking accountability." I found it ironic that they could equate a digital following with a true community.

A digital following lacks the infrastructure for meaningful connection or conflict resolution. It’s essential to recognize that while followers may engage with my work, there’s no obligation to maintain a relationship that resembles friendship.

8. Taking Responsibility for Digital Ethics

As a writer, I share intimate thoughts on sensitive subjects, and some followers project their assumptions onto me, cultivating a false sense of closeness. When my DMs were open, I encountered extreme sentiments from followers, claiming my work had "saved their lives."

While I could exploit this perceived intimacy for profit, I refuse to engage in such manipulative practices. My ideas should stand on their own merit, free from the need for parasocial connections or financial gain.

In closing, my decision to disable comments and messages stems from a commitment to my mental health and personal boundaries. I’ve learned that maintaining healthy boundaries involves controlling my actions and limiting exposure to potential harm.

The internet can be an unsafe space, and rather than relying on others to respect my boundaries, I’ve taken proactive steps to protect my well-being. While I will continue to engage on platforms like Medium, social media’s unpredictable nature will remain locked down permanently. My peace of mind and writing time are far too valuable to sacrifice for the chaos of social media interactions.