I’ve always found it really easy to compartmentalize things; to treat different parts of my life as elements, each of which fit in a box, with the boxes, neatly stacked. Even when the stacking was less than perfect, I kept focusing on the boxes. At least everything was ‘in its place’. Ironically, just the other day, someone important to me said “A place for everything and everything in its place.”

The problem with this approach is that some boxes are more important than others and when you keep things in a box it’s easy to lose sight of that fact. And makes it easier for the whole wall of boxes to come tumbling down.

The toxicity of cryptotwitter was always obvious to me, but I didn’t speak loudly enough against it. What’s more, I didn’t stand up against the assholes on there, not even when they attacked people I care about; people that I love, who asked me for help.

What wasn’t obvious—or, probably, just hard for me to believe—was that cryptotwitter was a symptom and not the disease. It’s hard to believe the worst about people; or at least it is for me. I assume that others are motivated and act on the same basic premises as I do. And I guess that isn’t the case for most people.

And so, to cut to the chase, the moment came.

I wish I could say “all of a sudden” but it wasn’t all of a sudden. There was a moment in time, to be sure. And it came. But it was preceded by a long series of moments at each of which I could have looked closer and changed course by prioritizing those important to me. I could have extricated myself, and left the whole toxic mess behind.

But I didn’t.

And so here we are… the world blurred in that one moment and all the boxes are now on the floor.