Navigating WhatsApp Groups as Disastrously as I Navigate Hikes

So, in case you missed the subtle hints in my previous posts… or, even worse, haven’t bothered to read them at all (the audacity!), let me formally introduce myself: a walking collection of nutty idiosyncrasies.

Welcome to the chaos. I would say buckle up, but honestly, nothing’s going to help you now.

Let’s dive into a pressing crisis in my life... my Whats App status.

And no, I don’t mean the cutesy little bio or photo—I'm talking about the state of my Whats App existence, the absolute chaos that is my messages.

It's chaos. It's disorder. It's—deep breath—the source of all anxiety in my once perfectly ordered tech life.

According to Google, I have ataxophobia— Apparently, this refers to fear of a physical mess, but after about two seconds of introspection (and zero seconds of actual research), I’ve decided this also includes digital disarray. 

Because yes, even the thought of notifications cluttering up my phone gives me anxiety-induced hives. It’s a sickness....truly. 

I have always deleted stuff faster than I can remember what I’ve just obliterated—sometimes something super important, but no matter ...

I’ve turned tidying up into a full-contact sport.   

My definition of digital clutter: a compulsion to scrub my Whats App until it gleams like a freshly sanitized crime scene.

My condition has led to countless tech casualties—deleting things faster than I can remember why I saved them in the first place. Oh, that crucial email from last week? Yeah, it’s gone. But who needs it, right? 

But the place where this little condition of mine wreaks the most havoc? WhatsApp groups. Ugh, the worst. I mean, I love WhatsApp for its obvious superiority to actual human contact (honestly, why would anyone call me when we’ve clearly evolved past that?). 

A side note....people, please, respect my boundaries. If you feel the urge to communicate, text me. If it’s that urgent, voice note me. Do not call me. And a video call? Forget it. I’d rather fake my own death.

Now, back to these groups. They are my arch-nemesis. Before, I had things under control —groups? Archived. Contacts? Organized. Messages? Minimal. Life was good. 

But then…the universe conspired to throw me into the most chaotic situation imaginable—hiking group chats.

Now, instead of peaceful organization, I've got a tidal wave of notifications, messages, and people just..… talking. The horror!

It started innocently enough. I thought, "I’ll just join ONE group to stay updated about the hikes, it’ll be fine." Fast forward to now, where my phone’s bloated with 158 hiking groups and 2057 unread messages, half of them probably just people debating whether the starting point is at the north or south of the parking lot. 

I can’t possibly delete them because I need that one piece of vital information buried somewhere in that Everest of text. It's like hoarding—but digital—and somehow worse, because it's all still there, taunting me with its disorderly presence.

There’s no way to keep things tidy with all these specific hikes, routes, and members clogging up my pristine digital space. What happened to the days when my WhatsApp page was a clean slate, free of the clutter of unnecessary chats? It’s like I'm drowning in a sea of group messages, and there’s no lifeboat in sight.

Archiving them all seems tempting, but the fear of missing something useful drags me back into the mess. I could so Marie Kondo those chats out of existence faster than you can say, "Does this message spark joy?" And no.....it doesn’t. It sparks agony.

But then what? Miss a hike and risk FOMO-induced shame?

But then, of course, there's the other option: put on those metaphorical big girl pants, wade into the chaos, and attempt to decipher what time and place you're supposed to meet without losing your mind. Because apparently, being a "normal" person means tolerating the noise and dealing with a constant stream of replies.

But let’s be clear, video calls? Still a hard NO. ...archiving is a weapon, deleting is a nuclear option, and answering a phone call is simply an act of war.

So, what's it gonna be? A blissfully ignorant weekend of missed hikes and inner peace? Or do I choose the path of digital self-destruction and figure out which hiking trail everyone’s chosen this week? 

‘Start hiking,’ they said. ‘It’ll bring you inner peace,’ they said.

Who are they, exactly? And more importantly, where are they? Bring me their heads—but not before I finish this hike and catch up on all my unread WhatsApp messages!