Do we "Overshare"?

Eh?  Do we what?  Overshare?  What's that then?  Those of us that spend what seems like an increasing part of our days on sites like myLot, Yuwie or the myriad of similar sites have become used to sharing our secrets with each other.  But how far should we go.  The lure of such sites is that they expose us to a far wider variety of thoughts and perspectives than we might otherwise discover from within our own close circle of family and friends.  The anonymity of the internet gives us a sense of security that allows us to reveal intimate details and receive confirmation that we are not so unusual; that ointment X will help that embarrassing spot, that someone else slept with his wife's best friend too etc.

But why do we want to share this information in the first place?  Is it because we are sad, lonely, morbidly curious, exhibitionists, what?  I think that it has something to do with the pseudo psychotherapy approach to modern life, at least in the West.  For years now we have been actively encouraged not to bottle it up, letting go is good.   We are comfortable therefore, with the thought that it is permissible to ask for opinion about almost anything.   We are happy to parade all that ails us in front of our peers.  I belong to a generation that grew up believing that family problems stopped at the garden gate.  You never ever washed your dirty linen in public.  But that approach has now been all but dashed and I, along with thousands of others, seek the comfort and solace that sharing my agony with a strangers brings. I have mentioned elsewhere here that a number of those strangers are no longer viewed in that light by me.  They have become friends, some of them very close.  They know things about me that my family are not necessarily aware of.  I have posed in women's underwear for their amusement.  I would never do that in my local newspaper.   Neither would that be information that I would share with a prospective employer.  But I am happy to share that comedy image with the World!   I feel safe simply because I have placed myself on the global scene rather than the parochial one in which I live.

If we show a willingness to share, then where does the line get drawn?  I am not sure that it does.  I have sat on trains listening to the most personal details of family life as someone finishes his breakfast conversation on the 7.10am to Waterloo (London).  "Darling, I have said I won't see her again. What do you want me to do?  She works in the same building for goodness sake.  Cutting up my suits isn't helpful my love.  You're getting this all out of proportion" and so forth.  Great entertainment, but is it healthy?  We all like a gossip and to know who is doing what and then feign shock and indignation that there should have been such a lowering of morals.  You have to look no further than Oprah, Montel, Jerry Springer to see people happily trotting onto the TV to bare their souls for the delectation of the wider community.  And we love it don't we.  We act as amateur counsellors to the legion of men and women that parade their problems in the hope that somehow we will make it all better.  We receive our 15 minutes of fame too.  Andy Warhol was not so far off the mark then.

Look at the other public things that we do.  To start with, there's this blog.  I have written this for myself but I hope that you will read it too.  Some people put their diaries on-line, others their art and literature.  What about a film, I'll stick it on Youtube.  The possibilities are endless.  Do we feel happier for doing this?  In the old days someone's diary was intensely personal and rarely shared; at least while they were alive.  Now we leap to the internet to share.  We pronounce ourselves happy.  Only time will tell if we really are.

But our happiness to reveal our innermost thoughts comes at a price.  We look for benign, uncritical responses and live in hope of affirmation that what we think, do or believe is acceptable to others.  If their response is less than enthusiastic we sulk, scream or abuse the very people that minutes before we were asking for their help.  But having received this brush off what do we do?  Why, we rush off and ask another question, hopeful that this time the replies will be more generous.  Perhaps we are addicted.  

I don't think that we will return to the days when discretion ruled.  The advent of the internet has brought a freedom that allows us to express ourselves in ways hitherto unthought of.  I can even publish a book myself now abut anything that I want.  No agent, no publisher, just a few words, $20 and I am published.  

So with all that in mind.  I will see you out on the lot.  I've got a very nasty rash somewhere sensitive that I just want to share.