Just before 5pm on Tuesday, he became a Twitter quitter.

"So long, Twitter. It's been fun but time to move on," the member for Chifley posted, before deleting his account.

The move seems to be at odds with the whole point of being an MP, which is to promote yourself as much as you can. Husic had nearly 30,000 followers - admittedly not as many as Taylor Swift's 85.5 million - but a very tidy group to broadcast to all the same.

It also seemed highly contrary to his job title: shadow minister for the digital economy (could there be a more Twitter-y position in Parliament?).

But Husic insists he hasn't had some kind of meltdown. In fact, he's never been better.

The decision to stop tweeting was many months in the making, he explains. He'd been increasingly disenchanted with the tone of debate on the "micro-blogging" site, where users post their thoughts in 140 characters or less. Starting his account in 2010, Husic had been a fan of the site's ability to let people talk about the things they were interested in. But he had begun to feel the opinions that got the most notice were the ones that were the most strident.

"You just had to wipe yourself down after you'd been on a Twitter session," Husic says, adding he also found himself drawn to more "pointed" comments to get the attention of others. "I'm no angel."

Husic's move isn't as drastic as it first appears. He will continue to use his Facebook, Instagram and LinkedIn accounts. And with an estimated 94 per cent of Australian social media users on Facebook and 46 per cent on Instagram, compared to 32 per cent on Twitter, the little blue bird does not have the reach of similar sites.

Twitter has also been subject to a lot of criticism (twittercism?) in recent years, for failing to stop hate speech and abuse on the platform (although it has made more efforts recently). The number of high-profile celebrities, such as Justin Bieber and Adele, who have taken social media "breaks" shows what an unpleasant place it can be. A whole comedy genre has been born out of politicians and famous people reading out the "mean tweets" they receive. Such as this example from Greens senator Sarah Hanson-Young: "I could eat a can of alphabet soup and crap more sense than she makes. Silly cow."

The perils of social media are of course no different when it comes to the debate on same-sex marriage. While it is one of the main places for the campaign to play out - and for people to express views and connect with others - it is also a land where insults fly with abandon.

(The frequency of the "f--- you, Malcolm Turnbull" tweets is just one indication of the vibe here.)

But while you can turn off your notifications, delete your account - even chuck your phone down the toilet - there is no getting away from the debate.

Along with all the online stuff, it's happening on lamp posts, at bus stops, on billboards and almost every news bulletin. It's even happening in the sky.

So you don't have to be out there advocating a particular viewpoint to be involved in this campaign. You just need to be conscious.

This means LGBTQI Australians are constantly and publicly having their identities, love and family lives judged by politicians, friends, neighbours, colleagues and the dude next to them in the cafe.

As Melbourne teacher, mum and lesbian Kerry Ford told Fairfax Media this week: "I've been trying to keep my head down and not listen to the hurtful things ... but this postal survey drags our family life into a very public domain for everyone to comment on and it's tiring and upsetting. It's constant harassment of my ordinary life."I think here of gay friends who are angry and fatigued at having their rights debated as if this is something discretionary. Who (only half) jokingly talk about what country they'll feel compelled to move to if the vote is returned "no".

Is it any wonder that mental health groups are in crisis talks over a spike in request for services?

Some "no" advocates such as Nationals senator Matt Canavan say people should "grow a spine and grow up". But if you're not gay, imagine how you'd feel if there was a full-blown national debate about whether we let couples live together without marrying. Or have kids without marrying. Or whether there was uncertainty over whether we let people divorce. Or remarry. Or stay married if they don't have children.

It's only not "that bad" if it's not happening to you.

Unfortunately for the gay and lesbian community, they don't have the option of quitting or deleting this increasingly hurtful and hateful campaign. It's happening all around them for (at least) another two months, whether they like it or not.