⚘✾Due Blue⚘✾

       He had a false stethoscope around his neck and over a cute, white coat.

"Alright, girl. I hate to be the one to break this to you but you've been diagnosed with a little something called pocrescophobia."

"Did you just make that up to annoy me?"

"Yes... And no. Pocrescophobia is simply an irrational fear of gaining weight. In a culture that idealizes thinness, weight gain is portrayed as a flaw. This can cause pocrescophobia, especially in those with a strong need for perfectionism."

"And... That's bad?"

"Of course. You're doing things to your body all because people don't give you likes online or approve of you, just because of some dumb comments from dumb people."

"Which reminds me—I need to work on my hair next. It's looks like a bird's nest," I got down from my bed and walked to the mirror to scan my hair and in fact, my whole body. I looked so fat.  I looked so... Odd. :((

It seemed like I was going out of shape. "Or perhaps just shave it all off." I ran my hands through my hair pushed the whole thing forward to observe how I'd look with none. Next,  I scanned my hips and my back.

Remi sighed.

"You can't keep starving yourself."

"Oh, yes I can," I strode down to him and fixed his coat, "and you can do nothing about it because we are best friends and best friends support each other."

       Scanning my body in the mirror had become a daily activity for me. I wanted to make sure I was fit and perfect enough for social media validation. I wondered why God didn't mould me to have a banging body too.

Slender would have been fine, thick and s*xy would have been fine... Just anything outside my own body.

( ⇀ ‸ ↼ )

The days grew darker and gloomy for me. I was constantly thinking, bothered about stuffs that I couldn't even place a finger on.

My joy was increasingly deflated each time I took a step into the virtual society but somehow, it felt like it was the only way to keep me going as I would rather stay online than offline, away from everything, each time I was sad. Thus I was addicted and at the same time, depressed.

I tried posting even what wasn't relevant or useful just to please people I thought weren't pleased enough.

Anxiety built a nice home in my heart as I contemplated on pictures to post. I kept asking myself questions such as if I'd be derided due to how I looked or how non-attractive I felt I was.

I wondered if I'd be secretly mocked or laughed at just as I also did to some people online.

  ◤¬ ˒̫̮ ¬◥

𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐞?

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞?

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐮𝐭?

𝐀𝐦 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞? 𝐀𝐦 𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞?

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐞?

𝐀𝐦 𝐈 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝?

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐲?

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐛𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭? 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠? 𝐃𝐨 𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭?

𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧? 𝐍𝐨. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐚𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡.

How my gladness was suddenly crushed by a feeling of hopelessness each time I grabbed my phone was so new to me, and fascinating.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐬𝐚𝐝, 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞; 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝.

It seemed like ever since I checked out MBs profile and got connected to the rest of her friends, my social life took a different turn.

They all seemed too perfect.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰.

¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶

       I found myself trapped in a whole new different world.

      Social media appeared to be place full of judgment; a place where great judgment and criticism dwelled. People could easily overlook one's stupidity and misfortune in the outside world but not here in this nasty and sophisticated world of virtuality.

It appeared to be a place of complete freedom—where people, even claimed introverts could unleash and unbottle their thoughts about a person, about you—say things to you that they'd never attempt to say in the outside world.

Thus, I called it a virtual world of absolute liberty! Free to express yourself over a pending issue! Free to talk, talk, talk! Free to criticize even when one is guilty of what's being criticized; free to tell a girl that you just met eight hours ago that you'd kill for her, free to throw shades! Free to pick up a fight with just anyone!

But I only got the chance to see just one out of a thousand reasons why it's a toxic world.

       With all the mood swings, worry, and wasted efforts, I knew that it was due time that I turned blue. But it was more than that, I was really depressed.

It felt like I didn't measure up. My posts barely had enough interactions, even my paintings and quotes. 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩? 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐈 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝? 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞? 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬?

There was talent but no validation.

I was beginning to lose so many followers that Instagram begged me to just give up.

I just could not cope with the sad feeling of being worthless and having a negligible personality. I mean, everyone else had their thing and things were pretty much going well for them but my case was rather pathetic.

I got to learn that social media is the real deal:

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠?

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧?

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡?

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬?

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝?

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬; 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠.

I wanted lots and lots of reactions too, I wanted lots and lots of comments too, I wanted to be notice for my potentials too. Almost everyone around me had things going just fine for them—likes, comments, shares, fans, followers, big time subscribers; validation... Where on earth did I go wrong? 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠?!

         I sat on the floor of my room, legs crossed over each other with my textbook out in front of me like I was studying. I continuously mulled over how a friend at school mentioned his tons of subscribers on YouTube and how a public figure made reference to his work. He turned famous overnight and a single click on his phone could fetch billions of comments! How Incredible!

       I recalled the days when I was yet to be exposed to the virtual society; those were the good days.

I was deprived of a lot of riveting activities and information but at least, my mental health wasn't facing any jeopardy. Life was... Simple.

The offline challenge was something else I reminisced about. It was the first and the last time that I connected with God. Now, I couldn't dare open a Bible or even a mere book with my phone being alive. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐠𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐈 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐜𝐭?

Each time I attempted reading a page of a book, I felt an itch from my phone, flaunting its desirable features in my face and mocking me.

I hung out with my friends less.

Peace waved goodbye and walked out of my life saying, "as long as she's here, I can't always be here."

     Thoughts were hovering all over my mind.

Those girls on TikTok, their skin glowed, their banging body beheld all the talents in this world, their hairdo was impeccable and it fit nicely on their adorable faces; their outfits were out of this world. All of these flawless qualities accumulated and

compiled to make one video that would eventually be a magnet for gazillion interactions.

¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶•°¶

"I don't think I'm pretty enough for TikTok."

"You're the prettiest girl I know."

"Aren't I the only girl you know?"

"I know Aisha."

"Is she better than me?"

"I don't like this kind of conversation, you know."

"Oh my God, she is!"

"I never said that!"

"Then what are you saying?"

"Temi, you are very much beautiful and smart, really beautiful... I mean, if I told you exactly what I think about you, you'd just hate me."

"What?!" I couldn't believe what my best friend said to me.

"Nevermind. You wouldn't understand—now's not the right time."

"I thought I was smart few minutes ago."

"You are... Look, I don't want to get into this right now so I'll just fake a call and exit."

"Remi!"

"Okay, Mom. I'll be right there," I heard his footsteps become faint. He left.

I was stuck in the bathroom washing my hair, fortunately for him—I would have killed him.

I reasoned on what he said; I was confused. Did I really have a problem that would cause people to hate me? Even Remi?

I was deeply curious and anxious that it started to make me paranoid, so paranoid that I offended so many of my online friends. Thus, the whole situation was aggravated. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐡, 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐢.

With such sadness, I decided to make a post.

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞.

"It is true that SOCIAL MEDIA DOES MORE HARM THAN GOOD."

In ten minutes, I gained a hundred reactions.

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     ⚘𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙇𝙀𝙓𝙄𝘾𝙊𝙂𝙍𝘼𝙋𝙃𝙔⚘

*𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇*

ΩTo become wealthy overnight.

ΩTo become rich without much hardwork or effort.

∆What makes one famous and 𝑟𝑖𝑐𝒉 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝑐𝒉?

::♥• MAKE A POST FROM THE JOURNAL CORNER ON YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA WITH A HASHTAG "AISMC"

»» #AISMC

::♥•F@Teimee