“Fear Of Missing Out”.
The fear that if you miss a party or event you will miss out on something great. – Urban Dictionary
I live in constant FOMO. I love to party. I want to go to all the parties and have all the fun.
But this FOMO is getting more serious. It’s infiltrated into my entire my life.
It is crippling.
I stay home to rest because I’m exhausted, but can’t sleep because all I can think of is the good-times-sexy-fun I’m missing.
I head out and think ‘I should be writing so I can make it as a freelance writer and maybe get where I want to get’.
I stay home to write and think ‘I don’t know enough about this topic I want to write about; I must read absolutely everything about everything to do with anything ever to do with it ever’.
I sit down to read and think ‘I’m wasting my youth, my breasts aren’t going to be this perpendicular to my body forever. I need to take a walk in the sunshine’.
I can’t commit to anything in case something better comes up. Sometimes I have trouble confirming ‘attending’ on Facebook invites. It seems too final.
I just want to know everything, read everything, understand every side of every story, go everywhere, experience all different kinds of culture, feel every emotion, eat everything and watch every talking animal clip.
I also need to simultaneously condense it all into 140 character updates and take stylized pics with Instagram/Hipstermatic/whatevercameraappcomesnext. All the while recording every action in a journal so I’ll have nice memories for when I’m too old to remember doing it in the first place.
IS THAT SO MUCH TO ASK?
I can’t take it. It’s overwhelming. I can’t’ sleep for fear of missing the next Dwitanic or Llama Del Ray. I can’t write for fear of offending someone. If I get a fact wrong or say something really stupid I could become the next ridiculed suburban white girl who doesn’t know anything. I AKTUALLEE DYE WEN I SEA I DUNN A SPEELING MISTAEK!
It’s all too much. I want to do it all, yet can’t because I’m constantly worried I could be doing something better. This fear has me so contained all I can do is think about everything I’m not doing and not do anything constructive.
See that? That pause? I just went to check my Facebook. I creeped a few friends pics (I didn’t click ‘like’ though as I don’t want them to know I did it). I also noted where my friends are (yes it’s Friday night and I chose to stay home, but now I’m wondering if I’m missing the best Friday night ever with tacos and mermaids and other cool shit). Then I checked my WordPress: no new comments. Better make my next post awesome. But it isn’t. It won’t be. I should have just gone out.
THIS IS WHY I DON’T GET SHIT DONE!
I meant to write something funny or poignant or just plain awesome. Perhaps I could write an article that makes a positive difference to the world? Something in which people could learn from my myriad of mistakes? Best brands of soup for one? Something? ANYTHING!
And all I wrote was this crappy blog.
Update: I wrote this Friday night but didn’t bother posting it until today. That’s how bad it is. Please send help.