I just can’t keep track of the days during school holidays and struggle to come back here.

After months with hardly any rain, the rain has come earlier than forecasted this morning. I hope it will rain for a while but at the same time I was hoping to use my annual leave to do as much DIY as possible. I have started painting the exterior garden wall but I don’t think I can put another layer on today. I suppose I can still scrub the fence later when the rain stops. I did put another layer on at the end. The house across me is for sale and they had accepted an offer within 24 hours.

This morning my children sleep in and I have read a couple more chapters of a very painful account of mass suicide at the end of WWII in Demmin, Promise Me You’ll Shoot Yourself by Florian Huber. I got this from the little second hand bookshop cafe in Bernard Castle yesterday when we had a stroll on the high street. I had definitely heard of this book before on BBC R4. I did not understand enough about WWII back when we bought the Anthony Beevor and Max Hasting books. I devoured the whole Eric Hobsbawn series without actually learning (or remembering) anything back in early 2010s when I first living in the UK. Reading Huber’s narrative gives me an entrance point to explore Germany history again (I must have forgotten everything too) from the perspective of ordinary Germans of a small town- clerks, accountants, chemist, women and children, to learn about WWII. It is a horrifying read but a fast read nonetheless. I have finished 1/4 already. I have got Mary Fulbrook’s The People State, about policy and public life after Hitler a couple of years ago. Maybe I will start rereading the old ones and discovering the new ones soon. Speaking of easy read related to WWII, I did enjoy Children of Radium by Joe Dunthorne immensely. I am making a point to read this with my 12-year-old son Bertie, a couple of pages in the morning and a couple of pages before bed. Growing up in Hong Kong, European history and geography are more an afterthought than an essential part of my understanding of the world. When I first came to the UK I found everything eye-opening, I had never seen things or understood things in this way had I not left home. And I just couldn’t remember or internalise much of it, as I lack the essential points to associate or reference. 16 years on, I am still learning and discovering so much as a child would.

Kid had got up and I made them waffles for breakfast. If it is proving impossible to paint outdoor the next few days, could I do something with the kitchen? I do love the look of freshly painted surfaces even I am scared of the DIY mess. Maybe I will look into how to start work in the kitchen, as we probably don’t have the £ for kitchen refitting anytime but I am sick of the provisional look and mismatching colours of my kitchen.

First world problem.

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Last weekend I was very fortunate. I had two days completely on my own, without kids, study or work, as my in-law took the kids on holiday. I haven’t been anywhere far today. Dog care turns out to be too difficult and the dog is very restless in the summer heat.

I did not plan what I would do. In the end I booked two tickets for two films in Richmond Station Cinema, The Odyssey at 13:15 and A Private Life at 18:00. I had dinner at the cinema’s cafe and found a very heavy book The Boundless Sea by David Abulafa at the preloved book stand in Richmond Station Cinema.

The next day I got up at 6am. Didn’t do much, went to B&Q to get some garden cleaner solution, some lanterns and candles, some scallops and sea bass for dinner at Morrison’s. I came back and scrapped the garden wall a bit while listening to Culture, Politics, Power by Jeremy Gilbert talking about the university crisis, and had a drink too much in the evening.

Over the two days, I wished I could share something with someone. But I realised also that ship has sailed. My urge to share anything on social media has completely gone. For many years, I used to post photos for some easy likes and comments to feel a bit less alone, but I come to terms with it, that days like these, like any other, feels impossibly exciting/ special/ memorable/ daunting for me, and maybe most people have more friends and families they can share with, but for me, I am all alone. And that’s okay.

Writing on WordPress is not the same thing – I can’t do it right at the moment. However clumsy and unexamined my writing is, they occur after the events, and I don’t actively share them with anyone, knowing the length of my content (how I hate this word) is too long for instant reaction. At the end, it is solely for my reflection.

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Someone who is related to my mum but is no longer friends with her forwarded me my mum’s latest reels. They are sick and sad, tasteless and cringe-worthy. Scripted but with no substance. Get me out of here. First one is about ‘how to maintain relationship with your grown-up children’ – no I don’t talk to her, at all. Second is about her birthday and stuff. No, I don’t log in Facebook anymore and this is one of the reasons.

I had a chat with this friend but learnt nothing new. She said everyone is using AI-enhanced photo apps and suggested it’s only because I am still young I am resistant. No, it is not because of beauty or even cyber security but principles. I had a hard time getting off social media and I am not going back. I admit it’s still often tempting.

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As a woman approaching her 40s soon, like many people, particularly those who live abroad, I too used to have a very unhealthy relationship with Mark Zuckerberg and his platforms. It is all very well talking about going out and meeting people, engaging with the real world, but I don’t know. I need people more than they need me I suppose. And in the end it is always me initiating a conversation. I am learning to come to terms with my aloneness. Being on my own in various part of the world, far from home, and a NEET for many years is a difficult thing. In the early 2010s I used to write and post on FB and people who know me will comment on them. I used to put loads of snapshots I took in London, Berlin and Lisbon on FB. People I knew in HK used to look at them. That was before everything is overtaken by short-form video. For a good 10 years of my life, my connection with people, memory and understanding of the world is related to Facebook rather than my immediate environment.

I have always been reading a lot of criticism against social media, from Zadie Smith to Shoshana Zuboff, but nothing could get me off Facebook and Instagram. I got off 3 weeks, 3 months, but always signed back on. One of the reasons is most community events or what’s on are shared on Facebook/ Instagram. You are being left out if you are not on it, and for someone who doesn’t have any people around me, that’s the only thing. However, I had noticed people posting less and less, and I don’t know why it has to keep recommending new pages for me to follow and stop showing me people I have already been following. The algorithm is getting worse and worse. People start moving to Patron and later Substack. I follow some people, usually already famous. It never occurs to me I could make a living with my writing or drawing. I like to write but I guess I would have to pay you to read my writing instead of living on the subsides of paid subscribers. For many years I don’t know how I can make a living at all.

My daughter was born in 2019. Soon after it was lockdown. When my elder one Bertie was younger I taught myself how to bake cakes and bread, and FB/IG are where I could share for some instant gratification that someone else can see my creation. I started painting for a while and learnt how to knit and crochet during lockdown with my children. Naturally, I share plenty of these on FB/IG too. Many encouraged me to start a business using social media and my creativity, but I tried and I tried and it went nowhere, I don’t get much likes for anything and the likes are pointless all the same. I can’t do self-promotion, can’t do reel, can’t do video. I just hate them personally, let alone creating them.

The real change and rethink began with AI. Back in early 2020s. There were mums sharing photos using apps to transform the hairstyle or age of their children in the photos for fun. I felt instinctively repulsive. Gradually they are everywhere – people using AI generated images as profile pictures, generating photos of themselves as mini-action figures and as a character on a movie poster. I have never taken part in this game. And worse, we learnt about how children’s photos are being manipulated to be sources for deepfake or material for sexual imagery. People, including myself, first react by fortifying their privacy settings, then by stop posting all together later. I guess by 2022, hardly anyone I know shares anything like their children’s photos causally, unless those who are determined to be KOLs. I was still on FB, but instead of sharing my children’s lives, I only shared memes. And you get a lot more AI slops, very low-quality content without any human warmth or authenticity. Even if they are good, how much could I read a day?

I started working in summer 2023 as a support worker in a short break service for people with severe learning disabilities, autism and/or mental health illness. I looked on Facebook forums for people in similar positions to understand what is the role like, or how long DBS takes to be clear. Thanks to work I am exposed to different walks of life, both in terms of being a carer and understanding the lives of people with severe disabilities. Both are things you can’t learn and can’t share on social media. I know some people put their diaries as carer for children with complex disabilities on Facebook, but it is very uncomfortable for me as a reader as well. How would I feel if my photos as a teenager in a wheelchair and needs to be hoisted is to be shared on Facebook for speculation of people I don’t know?

From this job as a support worker I got into a number of roles later – working in the office for admin and promotion for a local charity supporting people with disabilities and moving to children social service as a causal care worker, which pays considerably better. 10 months later I was offered a role as Caseworker in the local MP office, which I took and learnt the good, the bad, and the ugly. I put myself forward to an opening in Performance Team 1-day a week. I did not expect to be hired. I learnt that this is the best decision I made ever, as it become my lifeboat when I had to leave the Caseworker role. I gradually get more hours. That’s me where I am now.

I am coming into the 3rd year of my working life and my relationship with social media has changed a great deal. When I was raising my children and was not working, I shared many photos of them sleeping eating playing. I looked out for likes and reactions and comments. I would like to write but I do not have enough time and discipline to do it daily or weekly. I cannot ask people to be paid subscriber to my spontaneous rambling with no direction. Does it help me feel less lonely? Sometimes I guess. I really did not know what alternatives available and if I had to go back in time I would probably do the same.

Thankfully, over the years, my digital world has shrunk and my physical world has expanded. I work and I drive. I don’t feel I need to post anything anywhere anymore and no one cares anyway. The temptation to find someone to give a shit remains but it will always be there. I don’t take a photo of a movie poster or ticket or a new book to show I have been there. If the book or movie really inspires me or appalls me, if I think I learn anything, I will instead try to write them down slowly and thoughtfully. When I first started driving last year, I was very excited every time I drove to a new place, every time I could parallel park or park nicely into some tight spot. But that’s just everyone’s everyday life. I know, I know.

As for life on screen, I am really proud of painting the bathroom white but I don’t even have a photo of the finished work on my phone. I have painted the garden wall white with masonry paint mixed with 20% water as primer, it looks great already and I have just painted another layer, then I am going to put colour on it. I got something to look forward to. And I am not buying garden furniture yet before I manage to oil the decking. I still don’t have many friends or family to see it when it is all done, hopefully in a couple of months time.

I think that’s how life has always been, no one ever gives a fuck about my mundane featureless life, uneventful drives and I am happy not to be famous or clever or pretty. Afterall, again and again we are reminded being famous in this day and age is an absolutely awful thing. I am happy I have left my weird mother who still wants to make money by trying to be famous, and lost the urge to argue with her or correct her in any way. I have nothing to declare, nothing to prove. I don’t know whether quitting social media will make you happier but I think this is closest to what happiness, or peace, looks like.