Three Likes and a Head Fuck

The addiction of recognition

Why Did I Stop Writing?

It’s that undiagnosed ADHD thing, the kind that fuels crippling impatience. I’m still desperately searching for my next career, and at some point, I decided writing wasn’t getting me anywhere.

But why couldn’t I just do it because I enjoy it?
I love it. The words, the flow, the classic 4am word vomit that somehow turns into a post.

I guess I got tired. I stopped seeing why I was doing it. I wanted something bigger, something that would mean something. When I didn’t get the recognition I thought I needed, what society has taught us is so desperately important,I just threw it away. How pathetic of me. I wish my past self hadn’t done that. But I’m quite accustomed to her doing that.

The need of recognition comes back to bite me in the arse when I post something on Instagram and within an hour there is only three likes on it. “How humiliating” is what I think to myself. We live in a world where social media likes now mean an inordinate amount.

They’re proof you exist, proof you’re relevant, proof people care. And when they don’t come, the brain spirals.
Maybe people don’t like what I wrote.
Maybe I don’t have any real friends.
Maybe I’m just… not interesting.

Actually, I guess that’s what we think other people will think. But who is taking the time to notice such measly things? Probably no one at all.

I fear the world we live in is becoming an extreme head fuck.