Facebook Meltdowns...who needs reality TV?

When I first discovered the joy that is Facebook, it was like a walk down memory lane for me.  People I hadn't seen in over a decade or more were right there!  I could reunite with old BFFs, catch up on lost time, see current photos, notice that I look way better and way younger.  It was like a playground for adults and I was lining up to be first on the twistie slide, dammit. Oh was it fun for a while.  Reconnecting with old friends, picking up where we left off, sharing laughs again...this was the most amazing concept and I wanted to shake Mark Zuckerberg's hand, motherfucking genius little shit.  It was like being back in high school without the zits and the drama. Or so I thought.
For a fairly decent amount of time, there was just a flood of reuniting and joking around. Inevitably, it became a place to post pics, new and old, discuss a variety of topics, create typed sing-a-longs, share a funny, have Tourette's with great abandon.  Oh wait, that last part was just me. Still, it was a really cool place to be online to just kick back and have fun. Until it got personal. I don't mean the kind of personal where someone decides to post a pic of the beer they are presently drinking, because I do love beer and don't mind vicariously partaking in your beverage. I don't even mean the gratuitous self-aggrandizing, photoshopped, self-portraits posted daily by many.  Although, they did drive me out of my fucking skull, I could deal with it. Even the vacation photos were ok, sharing a sunset or two is lovely.
Here's where it went completely down the shitter. When certain people decided that Facebook was cheaper than a good therapist, and started posting every goddamn problem they were having, every fight, and every time they got a sniffle.  If it had stopped there, maybe it could have been contained and easier to digest.  But it didn't stop there. The "why me" folks were joined by the "look at me" people who brought along the "bipolar disorder rocks" freaks. The next thing I knew, it was total chaos. Online Disneyland for grown ups became internet therapy for losers. One breakdown after the other, status updates looked more like the results of misfired synapses that create someone's private journal entries...in a sanitarium.

At first, you want to be compassionate.  Years ago these people were your friends, and part of you still cares.  You comment sympathetically with each status explosion, hoping your words will soothe the inner turmoil they are obviously suffering. This puts a bit of a rain cloud over Facebook and it's not much fun for you.  Not wanting to seem insensitive, you keep reading the new stati and notice a pattern.  The same person who was bemoaning their lot in life, bitching about their rotten, cheating husband has now posted a photo of the two of them frolicking on the beach yesterday. Um, ok.  The other person who felt that everyone in her life was out to get her and that she couldn't trust anyone just posted a status about Girls' Night Out and what a blast she and her bitches had at the club.  The same bitches who were stabbing her in the back and heart simultaneously three days ago.  Yeah.
Now you are beginning to wonder why the fuck you wanted to reconnect with these ass clowns.  Maybe there was a legitimate reason aside from time and distance that you stopped being in contact with them.  Some subconscious part of you knew they were a raging basket case and you slowly backed away, heading for safer ground. Sadly, the birth of Facebook made you long for the good old days when we were all partying together, not realizing how much mental fucking illness was running rampant in the hallways of our schools.
I'm happy, I'm sad, I'm ecstatic, I'm forlorn.  I'm the Queen of Facebook.  You all don't deserve me, I'm taking a FB break to focus on me, myself, and I. I'm baaaaaack, and I know you missed me because you all were begging me to come back.  Giggle, giggle, snort. This is where I have to step away from the laptop and grab a drink because I cannot deal with the absolute insanity being flung at me from all directions without the aid of alcohol.  Shaking my head and wondering why the hell we were ever friends in the first place, I sit back down and begin Spring cleaning my friend list. I've gone through that process approximately 8 times.  Does that tell you anything?
This all goes back to keeping your personal life to yourself.  The over share is becoming all too common and I am sure I am not alone in mocking you when I read that your knickers are in a twist about yet another very personal problem you are having.  When you post gory details in all their dysfunctional glory, we snicker, we point at the screen, we even message each other to make sure we all saw and laughed together. Soon to be the laughingstock of FB, you rant on and on, wildly swinging back and forth between a contented, happy cow and a raging, angry bull.  And we laugh, how we laugh at your expense. Part of me wants to beg you to stop.  But the other part of me, and she usually wins, wants you to publicly implode so she can watch.  Are you friggin kidding me right now???