What seems like absolute eons ago now, I deactivated my Facebook account, in case I ever wanted to return but with the intention of never returning to the ā¦erm, be nice. That was back in 2011, and I wrote about it here.
Iāve never looked back.
Never missed it, and never gave it a thought apart from reading and hearing about all of the shenanigans that they and their associates have been getting up to.
I was at a loose end (I knowā¦ me! Can you believe it!?) so I did one of the most stupid things anyone can ever do when at a loose end. I Googled myself. Imagine my horror when I saw an early photo of me staring back at me, full name in lights from my āinactiveā Facebook account.
Right! I thought, and set about trying to log into my account, using the details that I thought I could remember, but obviously couldnāt. My associated email addresses had been deleted years ago, so I had no way of getting a new password sent to me.
No problem, said Facebook. Just keep trying to log in.
Sigh.
I remembered I had an old computer still set up in another room, so off I went, switched it on (and the beautiful thing powered up first time ā not connected to the internet, but I didnāt need that!). I opened the internet browser, which screamed at me saying āNO INTERNET CONNECTION!āĀ (which I already knew about!) but I went to the saved passwords section. All of my old usernames and passwords were there, for which I am eternally grateful for not throwing the old computer away in the first place! Being a hoarder comes in handy at times!
I trotted back to my current computer, and entered the details. I had remembered them correctly, Iād just had the bloominā caps lock on, as you always seem to do in times of desperate need.
I logged into my Facebook account, and reminisced for a few seconds when I saw all of the folk who I used to be āfriendsā with. Reminiscing over, I promptly āunfriendedā everyone, and then downloaded a nifty package which, according to Facebook, held all of the information they had on me. Not that I donāt trust them, but I donāt trust them. That file is now waiting to be read.
My next job was to delete my account completely. Could I find the ādelete my accountā option? Not at first.
I found an area where I could have my account deleted if someone else informed them that Iād popped my clogs after Iād popped my clogs, but I didnāt want that. I wanted my account gone now. Eventually, I found the option, buried in the ādeactivate my accountā section, with messages such as āif you go, you can never come backā kind of thing. If I wanted to go back, Iād just set up a new account, not that I will, so it didnāt matter anyway.
I now have to wait 14 days for the account to be deleted from the site, and if I want to stop the deactivation I merely need to log back onto my account to request it. I havenāt been there for seven years, so I canāt see me doing that within the next 14 days.
I Googled myself once more and that image of me has miraculously disappeared. How unusual for it to be so quick. Whoād have thunk?
I also stopped using Twitter around the same time in 2011, so decided to delete that account as well. I only had celebrities following me there, and was quite surprised to see how many were still following me, considering I hadnāt sent a tweet since what seems like the mid 1970s. I also had a share option for my posts on this blog for Twitter, but Iāve removed thatā¦ I donāt think it was used by anyone anyway.
So, blogging is now my only form of social media interaction. I donāt class blogging as social media, so it doesnāt have any of the negative connotations that come with that umbrella heading.
I shall end this post with a screenshot of the message I got from Twitter, after years of no use:
Iām not sure whether thatās nice or not, but never mind. Iāve moved on.
The Mansionic Perspective 
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