As I'm now, technically, a 'blogger', it's fair to say that I am part of the digital age. I know my Facebook from my Twitter, my memes from my trolls and my Instagram from my Pinterest. This means that I also know of 'FOMO' - Fear Of Missing Out.
FOMO is a modern day psychological phenomena which is destroying the enjoyment of Friday nights out at perfectly good parties and nights in at home with a perfectly good film for thousands of people, young and old across the globe. And it's all to do with social media. There you are having a perfectly enjoyable Saturday night in watching Dad's Army on iPlayer when you check your Facebook home page and are bombarded with status updates such as 'Amazing in Oceana tonight! Best night ever!', 'Definitely just saw Prince Harry in Babble!' or 'So glad I didn't stay in tonight!' Instantly, you feel like the loneliest, saddest person on the planet and want to replace John Le Mesurier with a few 'measures' (sorry!) of vodka. Or perhaps you're at a great house party but a Tweet from a friend at another party makes you wonder if you're missing out on a better time. You make your excuses and head to the other party only to find that, like The Coalition Government, it's not, actually, as good as it sounded.
I like to think that I'm not a FOMO sufferer but, good God, that has not always been the case! When I was younger, I was in attendance at every club night that my local city had. Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, you'd spot me in Pitcher and Piano doing my best to get through as many of the cocktails on their '2 for 1' menu before the offer ended at 11pm and then I'd be hitting the dancefloor in one of the city's clubs with my fellow FOMO sufferers until the small hours. If my friends weren't available one night, I'd frantically text, call, smoke signal and telegram anybody I could think of to accompany me on my quest for 'social fulfilment' and to ensure I didn't miss out on anything that night. This routine continued for about 18 months until one Saturday night when no amount of texting, persuasion or semaphore would provide me with a chum. As I so often do when things look bleak, I went to my mum with the quandry. What happened next was one of the most useful lessons I have ever learnt in my life.
Mum looked at me and said, 'You've done your best and a night out just isn't happening. The chances are, if you'd gone out tonight, something bad may have happened. Why don't you go and sit down, relax and do something that you really enjoy like watch a good film or read a good book.' And so I did. I was forced, by circumstance, to enjoy my own company on a Saturday night and I loved it.
Since that night, I've found it far easier to succumb to quiet nights in and have now, some might say, gone too far the other way. I seem to have FOMO related to my bed or my sofa. If I go out tonight, will I wish I'd stayed at home? Will I miss out on my dog doing something amazing or my cat acquiring the power of sppech? Gradually and with help from family and friends, I have learnt to make decisions as to going out or not and stick to them. It has also made it far easier for me to say no to things I don't want to do which, quite often now, includes going out to bars and clubs. If only I could find some way to say no to that chocolate bar!
'Muuummm?'
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