when instagram decides you're an impostor ...

At the beginning of the month, a friend notified me that someone had opened an impersonation Instagram account in my name. This person had taken my name, profile picture, and last 24 pictures and copied them into this new account, which had a username just slightly different from my own.

I put out the call to all of my Facebook friends and Instagram followers to report the fake profile ... and I woke up the next morning to find that my own legitimate account had been disabled for impersonation.

Interestingly, Instagram states that only the person being impersonated can report another account for impersonation, and I certainly didn't report myself, but there you have it. (Also, I tried to report the other account for impersonation, but Instagram requires you to attach a photo of yourself holding your photo ID, and the report form wasn't working. Of course, it's working now, after it's too late ...) About 72 hours later, Instagram disabled the fake account, but it's now been more than three weeks, and I cannot get any response from Instagram about my real account. I'm beginning to believe that those 1000+ posts from nearly five years are just gone. (Fortunately, I had Chatbooks, so all but the last several posts are printed in my Instagram series.)

The most frustrating thing about it is that I cannot get a real person. Someone who actually looked at the two accounts would be able to tell in an instant that my account was the real account and that I wasn't impersonating anyone, but I am completely unable to get a response from a real person.

For a few years there, customer service was king, and if you aired a grievance with a company on Twitter, you were sure to get a response. Perhaps we've passed that era, or perhaps Instagram just doesn't care. Whatever the reason, my Twitter pleas have received zero response.

So, yes, I'm frustrated, but at least one good thing has come out of all of this. For quite a while, my sister had been telling me that I should start an Instagram account for my book blog. I always resisted for a variety of reasons, but the main one was that I didn't want to start over with followers. I had close to 400 on my personal account, and, while that's not a huge number, it's a whole lot bigger than zero!

But with my personal account shut down, I had nothing to lose! So I created a Christian Chick's Thoughts account: @cctblog.

I'm loving it!

It's a much more focused account, basically about books, movies, and music ... and, of course, my cats. And there's something about knowing who I'm targeting that makes it easier to write captions and choose what to post.

I've also been doing a lot of thinking about why I posted what I did before, and I have to be honest and say that I was looking for affirmation. Yes, many of the photos I posted were ones that I wanted to remember (and I did a fair bit of scrolling through my own old posts), but I wanted others to like them, too. I suppose the same could be said of my CCT account, as well, but the purpose of these photos is to "build my brand," so to speak, and drive people to my blog. It also gives me a great forum to share about the books I'm reading, which never really fit well on my personal Instagram. I'm actually interacting a lot more with other book lovers through this account than I ever did before. At least for now, this account feels very fulfilling.

And I still have Facebook for all of those family and vacation pics 😃. (Maybe I'll create a new personal Instagram ... we'll see. If so, I'll be sure to let you know!)

Read More

when hashi rears its head

I wrote this yesterday and almost didn't post it. But, in an effort to share the "realness" of life, I decided to go ahead and hit "publish."

I haven't talked publicly about Hashimoto's, my autoimmune disease, for a long time. For a while, it was THE thing in my life. But after getting on the right meds, vastly changing my diet, and learning to take care of myself, it's become just A thing, something that's part of who I am but doesn't rule my life.

Most of the time.

Today, though, I'm very aware of Hashi and the limitations it gives me. We had a major snowstorm that dumped 10-ish inches and created drifts of 3 or more feet. My car isn't going anywhere until it gets dug out.

I know that strenuous exercise isn't good for me, but what was I supposed to do? (Of course, I could've chosen to stay snowed in, at least in theory. But it didn't really feel like a choice. I needed to dig out.) So I bundled up and attacked the snow. After about 30 minutes, I quit. I'm still snowed in. And I spent the next hour sprawled on the couch. Three hours later, I'm not feeling much better.

I used to feel this—this deep, utter exhaustion—every single time I mowed my lawn. Last summer, I didn't feel it once, which is a testament to how much healing I've done. But it's frustrating to have my limitations thrown in my face. I cringe when I wonder if the neighbors think I'm lazy or wimpy—because I look perfectly normal; I look like I should be able to handle some snow. I was even slightly embarrassed when I admitted to my friend (and sometimes mail carrier) that "this" just about killed me when she delivered a package this afternoon, and she knew me when I was at my worst! I guess it's just humbling to be reminded that some things are out of my control, and I'm not really self-sufficient.

I also worry that this exertion is going to set me back, cause a flare-up of symptoms, and impact more than just today. I know that I'll need to be extra vigilant and extra gentle with myself for a while. This in itself is frustrating, as I'm forgoing some things I'd like to do (like keeping up with my steps in a walking challenge I've joined) in hopes of not making things worse.

But I'm also so thankful that I'm not where I once was. If it takes a snowstorm to remind me of both my frailty and of how far I've come, I guess I should be grateful. And I'm also grateful for my dad, who came over after he got off work and finished digging me out!

Read More