I’m no good at keeping personal goals and can’t remember when I’ve ever accomplished one. This year I vowed to lose 20 pounds, but my midsection remains pudgy. My never-ending goal to quit biting my nails also remains a work in progress – I’m no saint.

Recently, however, I abruptly shifted away from one of my many guilty pleasures. I deleted my Twitter account, and by God, I’ve stuck to it.

I had wanted to banish the little blue bird for months, if not years. I don’t care too much about other peoples’ opinions, and Twitter basically exists for everyone to blast their half-brained takes on global platform in 280 characters or less. Coupled with the constant complaining and daily outrage over every little thing, it never took long for my mood to sour once I started scrolling my timeline.

The reasons listed above are exactly why I deleted my Facebook account back in 2012. It was during the height of the presidential election and I simply couldn’t bear it anymore. I also couldn’t stand seeing hourly life updates from my “friends” sharing pictures of what they ate for lunch that day, or what their dog was doing. I haven’t missed Facebook whatsoever and don’t have any inclination to get a new account – I have the telephone numbers of people I want to communicate with.

Twitter eventually became my social media drug of choice. It’s a great tool to stay up-to-date on news, and I enjoyed getting updates from my favorite sports teams. I followed dozens of accounts that made me laugh, too, so I stayed hooked to my account for more than a decade.

Everything began to wear on me over the past year, though. There was very little good news in 2020, and the platform was overtly toxic most days. The headlines were depressing and the commentary was a sewage pit. That cocktail does nothing for one’s mental health and I started to loathe logging on.

Nonetheless, I kept coming back for more. It made absolutely no sense.

I finally bit the bullet in late March after my beloved Iowa Hawkeyes lost in the second round of the NCAA Tournament. Hawkeye Twitter is a toxic hellscape even when the Black and Gold win, and I couldn’t stand the same tired old takes from the same constantly-outraged accounts any longer. I deactivated my account with my chin held high and my pride only slightly wounded.

I’ve been able to do some self-reflection on my social media addiction during the last four weeks. After I deleted my account and removed the app from my phone, I often found myself grabbing my device and staring at the open home screen with my thumb hovering above the keyboard waiting to tap on the Twitter icon. I was like Pavlov’s dog, but instead of drooling every time a bell rang, I would grab my phone each time my brain was bored. I had to chuckle at how pathetic I had become. Getting rid of something is a surefire way to realize how dependent you’ve become on it.

Admittedly, I do miss certain aspects of the app. I feel less informed about the goings-on of the world, and I’m often two or three news cycles behind my friends. I feel like an idiot when I bring up something and they point out that it happened a long time ago (yesterday); but hey, if being a bit behind helps my head stay clear, then that’s OK.

Still, I’m on the fence about getting a new account. I’d like to stay in the know more than occasionally reading headlines on various news sites, but I fear I’ll just revert to my old ways of doomscrolling. It’d be like giving a recovering alcoholic a bottle of booze and telling them it’s only for special occasions. Temptation is a devilish thing.

I’m going to hold steady for now. I’ve always believed social media does more harm than good to society, and though I do miss parts of Twitter, I know I’m better off without it. I think more people would feel the same if they shut down their accounts, but that opinion falls mostly on deaf ears these days.

Nick Pedley is the news editor of The Hartley Sentinel-The Everly/Royal News.