how to not lose your mind on Substack Notes

From someone whose brain was broken by Twitter and has the journal entries to prove it (it me)

Have you heard about Notes? It's the cool new thing, like atheism and tiktok foods. 

Everyone’s losing their minds about it, meaning which means everyone is actually freaking the fuck out, overwhelmed by anxiety and FOMOOOCAMSHWCL (fear of missing out on the one chance to actually make something happen with my career lol).

Unlike your everyday satanic panic, though, everyone wants in. But no one knows exactly what to do, but they know there is OPPORTUNITY THAT THEY MIGHT BE LOSING. And no one want's to lose. Many people have lost their minds. Police say reports of writers running naked through the streets screaming, "I'm making content!" have gone up, a lot (the cops won't give exact numbers).

I will admit, with pride, sure, always, but mostly with shame, that I felt nothing when Notes came out.

I opened it up, I started posting, and I didn’t stop. And it was fun. I even got a shoutout from Substack’s co-founder

Hamish McKenzie

!

Sadly, our relationship fell apart shortly thereafter. I asked everyone for what their favorite word was, and Mr. McKenzie replied with the below which, according to my lawyers, is legally considered ‘trolling’ unless he can prove those words (the and a) are actually his favorite. i remain hopeful we can repair and move past this….

But don't worry, I'm no Jesus of Notearath. 

You see, the only reason I could waltz into the fray and calmly proceed to post with reckless abandon is because I am a veteran of the posting game. That is to say, I am a broken man.

I’ve spent the last ten years, at least, on Twitter. Starting with the novel coronavirus of 2020, I was on there ALOT. Over 22,000 times, I have clicked “tweet” and broadcast my dumb little thoughts into the world. Again and again and again, the potential of my pithy thoughts being validated by strangers on the internet would often would often feel, as my good friends Metallica once said, that nothing else mattered. 

You see, I was Bilbo Baggins, a tiny lil hobbit who smokes his pipe, eats his cakes, scones, jam, tart, and pie, and looks anywhere he can for validation that he is, in fact, a creative and very funny artist guy who is going to make it in Middle-Earthwood.

And then I found The Ring: Twitter. 

Not all of Twitter, but the Twiter of virality, the moment when you produced such an earth shakingly hilarious and yet poignant banger that the world had to stop, to notice, to say, “wow, that guy is good.” 

It would change and morph the way stuff does when you’re wearing The Ring. Early on, a post with 10 likes was enough. Then it was 100. Then it was 1000 and then it was no number at all, but simply an indiscriminate need for more. 

All I thought about were tweets, in tweet format. I’d pay for something at the store and then tweet some dumb shit like “life, liberty, and the pursuit of therapy,” praying it’d do a viral and then being sad when it got 2 whole likes.

I went so deep into Twitter, the hell for people already in hell, of seeking validation from an unending stream of feedback designed to never, ever, satisfy. And yet the river looked to be overflowing, like it had enough for us all; when in reality it only gave a few sips, here and there, but god did those sips taste so good! What’s in there, electrolytes?? 

Sure, it wasn’t enough water for even a camel to live off of, but who cares! I wasn’t a camel, I was a comedian god damn it, and I was going to win. So I posted, and posted, and posted, and noterhing worked until finally a video I made did pretty good numbers, I mean god damn LOOK at those numbers! Also I look young, eyes glimmering with hope!

I can’t embed tweets anymore lol, which is fine but @substack plz allow me to upload videos into my posts then cuz these bangers wanna run free like wildish horses

I kept posting and ‘growing’ (ugh), which made me more and more unhappy. Here’s some journal entries I have from 2022

I went on Twitter today. Within 5 minutes, I felt like garbage

I wish I had a brand on Twitter, like 'cool guy with three legs' or 'guy who has saved several families from burning homes on multiple occasions"

here's a thought. Most days I wake up feeling like shit. I don't like myself, I don't like anything that I do and I wish that I was someone different. I can tell when its starting because I am desperate for validation. Posting stuff to twitter and checking constantly, needing to know how well it does. Tell me I'm okay I say to a platform hell bent on my destruction.

On May 1 2020, I even wrote a big whole thing about how I was done with it. And I stopped, mostly, more or less though usually just less. Until a few months ago, when at some point during the Musk drama I did feel myself finally pull away, as I fell in love (became addicted) to the validation of Substack, the pace of which felt much better for me. 

I was free. Bilbo Baggins, back at the shire after giving The Ring away to Gandalf or whoever. Broken and enlightened. Free.

And then came Notes. And I found myself back in Twitter mode, doing all of the same things, craving to wear the Ring one more time just like Bilbo would, except I no longer needed it. I feel, at least for now, post-Ring. 

Which makes everyone on Substack a bunch of Frodo’s, seeing the power of The Ring on Notes, excited, needing to wear it, to experience the joy of approval and success and all the other things it pretends to provide. 

So, then, allow me to share with you what I’ve learned on my 1-book long or 3-movie long journey. 

I share all of this because I hope it'll actually help, yes, and also because I hope that Notes does not become Twitter. From the algorithmic decisions I've seen thus far, it seems like there's a goood shot.

But Michael Estrin, a fellow member of the Comedic Personal Essay Universe (CPEU) put it best - - it's not just up to the platform. It's on us.

🧡 An essay about my favorite joke 🧡

Rae Katz

published a story today called "Ode to an Inside Joke" about a joke that I sorta started in college after she said something…interesting. The joke lives on, thrives, even, to this day. I even got it tattoo'd on my human body.

I highly recommend checking it out!

THE TIPS

resist the urge to be someone else 

We’re monkey creatures, and what monkeys see, monkeys then do (this is science). So we see other people dancing a jig of self-important gravitas babble and we say, ‘well, then I too, must monkey do.’ 

Not so! You do not have to be anyone. Without diving too deep into a ‘who are we at all anyways’ existential bunny hole, here’s a good rule of thumb: it shouldn’t feel....hard. Like miserable and excruciating.

And if it does, you’re probably trying too hard to be someone else, so give yourself a break, make a PB&B and step away. Come back later and post something maybe if you want, or don’t! 

Another good rule of thumb - what sorta shit do you text your friends? To make em laugh or think or say ‘whoa.’ That’s fun stuff! Share that!

Or are you pointing something that feels like it belongs in your Cirriculum Vitality? If so, yuck, do not post it and throw away your computer. 

Like making sure you don’t overcook the turkey, this stuff gets easier with time.

Feeling weird? Ask someone!

I’d post the dumbest stuff and then have full on panic attacks about it afterwards. Did I offend someone? Why haven’t they liked the post even though I tagged them and I saw they liked someone else’s post? Why do they hate me so much? What awful thing about me do they know??

In this way, social media is the antichrist, reflecting back to us our worst fears without any easy way to assuage them. Yea, I said assuage, who cares. 

The discomfort of trying to hold that fear in was so great for me I felt like I’d explode if I didn’t let it out. So I’d ask Lauren what she thought (lord bless Lauren for being able to listen to my Twitter drama without grabbing a small suitcase, barely packed, carry-on size, and moving to a hotel). 

Or I’d ask some of my IRL friends. Or - and this one honestly is the best option - I’d ask someone else on Twitter. I’d DM them and say, ‘hey I’m prolly being nuts, but what do you think about this?’ And I’d tell them and they’d say, ‘yep, you’re nuts its fine.’ 

Sometimes I’d even ask the person who I was anxious about, though I recommend doing this only if you’re actually friends with the person, not just messaging them out of the blue. I’d say “hey, I am probably reading way too much into this but I saw that you didn’t reply to this one comment and its making me think you hate me, do you hate me?” 

And then they’ll say “na!” or “yea!” and either way, its good. 

Turn off notifications

The Substack C-Suite will probably deplatform me for this, but it has to be said. TURN OFF ALL THE NOTIFICATIONS. You are not strong enough to defeat them. They are an orange slot machine, and you are an 89 year old woman named Babs who lives in a Reno casino.

Trust me on this. I have mine off and still check all the time. I actually keep a couple on, like for replies to comments, but honestly I think the notification thing is broken cuz I still get them for everything (they'll fix this soon I have to imagine).

This isn't real and everyone is amazing

Notes feels like a mini version of Twitter where most everyone is a writer or a big fan of writers - it's like AWP, a conference I've never been to, that’s chock full o’people you admire, all of whom seem like they're having the best time laughing and eating truffles in a blanket as they talk about how much money they made on their last book and how fucking stupid they think you, yes you specifically, are.

I have been to Sundance and SXSW though and I imagine the vibe is the same - THERE’S SO MUCH POWER AND INFLUENCE HERE you think to yourself. And hell, maybe if I say the smartest yet most chill yet hilarious yet deep yet Perfect for The Today Show line, an agent or manager or publisher or Person With All The Money will see me and go, "Excuse me, but I couldn't help overhear how funny and talented you are. Let's make a deal, and not just any deal, a big deal. Here's a briefcase with 1.3 million USD to show you I'm serious."

That won't happen. But it could!, you say. And that right there is how they get you, by dangling the invisible baby carrot that could be yours, if only you could find it. But you can't, and neither can anyone else, because it isn't real. And guess what, neither is anything else!

This is key, things not being real.

The best way I can describe it is that you’re at a big conference with all these other writers, and everyone is on a healthy dose of psychedelics.

AND as anyone who has taken psychedelics knows, you love everyone and everything. No one is an enemy. People are good - everyone belongs, everyone is simply a person trying to exist and enjoy their life and minimize the pain they put out and the pain they experience. Everyone is love because remember you're tripping balls.

It is this 'both are true' vibe that I aspire to when using Notes. By default, I treat everything as REAL AND BAD AND I AM FAILING. That's false. Because it isn't real. But it IS, psychologically, at least, real. And you're tripping, and you love everyone.

This helps especially when you're triggered into any online space's default state of FIGHT OR FLIGHT OR FREEZE OR FART. Except, online, you sort of experience them all at once. You want to fight and protect yourself AND run away, but you're FROZE and also life becomes a big fat FART.

So when you go into FoFoFoF, just remember that you're in a field with all these idiots and everyone's eating gummi bears and laughing about how bears can't tell time and all, dear friend, is okay.

It doesn't matter

This is related but different. What happens online does. not. matter. The fundamental currency of Substack and, lord forgive me, for I have shins, "building an audience," is not about Notes. It's about creating a genuine relationship with people who dig your work. That can happen on Notes just as it can happen from your normal posts.

"But if I post on Notes, more people will see my stuff and maybe some more people will like it!" Maybe, but if you’re like me, its too exhausting to try to pretend to be someone else so I’ll half ass it and everyone will feel that I’m Angry or even more vaguely Not Well. And who wants to hang out with a crazy Not well person that isn’t even in their family already.

Feeds like Notes are really good at making you think that EVERYONE is TALKING ALL THE TIME. But that's false. Of all the readers and writers on Substack, I bet 2-5% are using Notes. Meaning over 90% aren't - some because they just don't know about it / get it, but a lot because they too hate the content feeds like you do. Nice! You'll still have to figure out how to reach them, but it doesn't have to be on Notes.

Ok fine, but what if I want to post? How do I not lose my mind then? I'm glad you asked, because this is my specialty.

Be a lil weird (go left)

If you see that everyone is posting introductions that are like "HI MY NAME IS BRAD I DO MID CHINA ECON SUBSTACK LETS CONNECT NOW," then maybe consider doing something...else. 

Contrast, by definition, will grab someone’s attention. Though ‘grab’ is such a violent word. Let’s say it lightly taps their attention. Consent, babes! 

End

In his paper about the gamification of Twitter, C. Thi Nguyen says that, as with any game we play, we end up adopting Twitter’s rules as our own. The platform plays us, rather than the other way around.

But, I'd argue, with Notes, maybe not just yet. I think we're still coming up with the rules together. And I get a sense that Substack wants to let us figure out those rules together. I hope that's true, at least. So, whaddya say? Let's grab a few more tabs, some gummies, and haaaaaaaang. Or not. Whatever bro, it's all make believe.

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Want more tips?

Great! I wrote a big ass piece detailing all the things I did to get to 3177 free subscribers and 111 subscribers and you can read it here.

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Let’s talk it out in the comments

1. How do you feel about Notes? What are you finding difficult about using it, and what do you love about it?

2. What do you wish Notes had, feature wise or anything wise?

3. What percentage of your social life is online? What about ur professional life?

4. What else is happening that has nothing to do with any of this?

5.