Let's start with some vague introductory phrases about social media: how it orbits the center of our lives, changes the way we communicate, bridges continents, and deadens meaningful conversation. The good, the bad -- yadda, yadda, yadda. You've heard it all before, and I'm not here to convince you one way or another. Truth be told I think it's great, and if it brings you joy, there's no reason not to tweet, tumble, like, comment, and share your little heart out. What I don't like is the necessity. The fact that to not be connected is to disadvantage yourself. There are apps, databases, and websites inaccessible without a sign-in through Facebook. Even working for the Odyssey requires at least one active social media account. And here I was thinking a Social Security number would suffice.

I was surprised by how angry friends and family became when informed I would be retiring my usernames -- as if my desire to secede was an affront to our relationship. When breaking the news to potential buddies that the reason they can't find my profile is because it doesn't exist, the response is always, Why? Sometimes with a furrowed brow of concern, but often with the rolling eyes of someone who thinks I'm a hipster -- and maybe they're right; I use a flip phone and a Polaroid camera. Maybe I do think it's cool to be out of the social media scene, but that's far from my primary motivation. The actual reason for my digital hermitage is my well being.

First was the matter of time management. At the height of my usage, I might log six hours a day on Tumblr. Aimlessly scrolling through puns and articles that I would like with the intent of perusing later, and then never acknowledging again. I would spend so much time watching videos I didn't care about, simply because it was re-blogged by someone with a cool aesthetic. Sure, I would occasionally post original content -- niche humor fashioned to garner the approval of strangers who wouldn't offer so much as a click. Did I use too much punctuation?!?!?

Even worse was my obsession with people. I'm not talking about gaining followers (over which I certainly fretted), but friends. And crushes. The terrible beauty of Facebook is that you are privy to comings and goings of everyone in your social circle, so when two close friends post pictures of themselves on an outing, you'll know you weren't invited. Never mind that maybe the two wanted some one-on-one time to catch up, and that their lack of inclusion doesn't necessarily qualify exclusion -- you'll feel unwanted regardless of the logic. What put me over the top cookoo-bananas were those special someones.

Having access to the social itinerary of someone with whom you're infatuated is truly a curse. With this power you can tailor yourself to all their interests and affinities. If he likes "Legend of Zelda," for example, you can catch his eye by casually sharing a video of the Top10 Zelda Dungeon Themes! Plus, any mention of them in someone else's post is sure to mean the two are in love and your chances have just gone out the window. Not to mention your mood is directly dependent on whether or not she likes your status. God forbid she comments on anything, lest your twittering heart convince you that you're getting married. Your elevated mood will last just long enough for her to share a BuzzFeed article on someone else's wall, sending you crashing back to the apathetic ground.

My favorite feature from the social network is the ability to see when someone has viewed your private message to them. This gem cropped up around the time of my first love. I can still squeamishly recall the self-depreciating knowledge that the great love of your life has seen your missive and chosen not to respond. No matter how you try to reason it, you'll never convince yourself that, "They were in a rush -- they'll reply when they have time. They don't hate me." Nothing like a visual representation of being ignored by someone you care about to send you in a downward spiral. All the obsessive crap you deal with day to day, from the comfort of your own home! Or anywhere with a wi-fi signal. You never have to stop.

So I said no. It's not for me. It's too much power, and I'm not apt to wield it. I'm glad social media exists, because it brightens the days of so many of my friends, but for me it's synonymous with inactivity, cyclical thoughts, and anxiety. My mental health is not worth the connection. I figure that anyone I need to be in contact with, I can reach by the classic methods; email and text have always worked just fine. And don't get me wrong, I do love Snapchat. And I have a twitter, collecting dust, created in vain as a means to further what I had thought would be a flourishing career in stand-up comedy. But if you want to follow me, do it the old fashioned way: with a pair of binoculars behind a large bush.