Every day, we make choices based on how we want the world to view us. We perform for the world—it’s why we wear cute clothes and don’t pick our noses in public: it’s nothing new. Social media platforms like Snapchat, Facebook, Twitter and others make it so that the performance never ends.

Snapchat forces us to always look for adventure, documenting everything and anything someone might find cool. Facebook motivates us to always look perfect, since any event could be a photo-op. Instagram compels us to constantly compete for the best image, the best caption or the most likes. Twitter expects us to tell a story and captivate as many people in as few words as possible. Everything we do is to put on a good show. We’re valued on what that performance looks like. And people have become so desperate to perform in front of a judging, faceless audience that they are increasingly willing to put themselves in harm’s way.

Because of social media, we are always “on.” From checking Facebook for how many likes you got on your profile picture to obsessing over who has seen your Snapchat story, the performance never ends. Studies have linked the increase in social media exposure to decreased self-image. Decreased self-image has in turn been linked to a diminished mental health. Our country is facing a mental health epidemic in its youths, and yet we keep logging on.

More and more, people are going to the extremes in order to perform. A major aspect of the performance is competition, and people are always looking for the next big thing in order to get a leg up in the race. Kids are literally choking themselves, putting their lives in jeopardy, just to broadcast it. Our need to perform is pushing us too far. Social media should never be a reason to put ourselves in harm’s way. Fighting for the last plain bagel? Yeah, that’s worth a risk. Saving Princess Peach from Bowser? Always worth a little life-or-death uncertainty. But a cool Snapchat story? Not even worth me getting out of bed.

And who cares about the performance, anyway? We spend so much time obsessing over what we want people to see, less time questioning what people want to see and hardly any time—if any at all—seriously considering who those people are. When we perform, we do it for the invisible audience. Do we ever stop to wonder if the audience isn’t invisible, but rather imaginary? It’s worrisome to push the boundaries for a show, but even more troubling to push the boundaries for a show that no one even sees.

So next time you snap a picture to put it on Snapchat or Facebook or whatever kids are on these days, think about what you’re doing. Think about why you’re doing it. Think about for whom you’re doing it. Is it worth it? Are you worth it?