I Heard You're Doing Okay, But I Want You to Know...Day 20

"I heard you're doing okay, but I want you to know, I'm adic--I'm addicted to you."

Today's prompt is to "get real" and share something I'm struggling with. How is this different from day 16, I wonder?

Well, I'm struggling with addiction. To Facebook.

I know what you're thinking: "Oh, everyone under the age of a million has this problem. What makes this sob-story any more original?"

I suppose it doesn't. But it's gotten to the point where I write stories in-between Facebook-ing, rather than the other way around.

It's not like there's anything interesting on the site. Sure, I can chat with some friends, but I often prefer to text. I never got into Farmville (all those requests you got from me? That was the prodigal roommate). Remember that "compare people" app? My 15 year old self loved that, until it asked me if I'd rather sleep with my cousin or my brother.

Um. No.

But now, I just get on Facebook to stare at Grammarly updates and stalk take a close interest in people I hadn't seen in years. Oh, I haven't spoken to you since elementary school, and you had a Burrito for lunch? Awesome. So glad I know that.

I will even take photographs just for the sake of posting them on Facebook. Duck face, anyone?

Most of the productivity I need to accomplish is on my computer. In order to write, technically all I need is a blank word doc (or even just a google doc). And yet, I always have to open a new tab and automatically type in facebook. I don't always get bombarded with messages and notifications, but when I do, I forget why I came online in the first place.

And when there are interesting links, oh boy...I'm just glad there's no link to good Netflix shows yet.

The sad thing is, I actually feel accomplished when my status updates or photos get likes. It's as though that little red box on the upper left screen is my life. I become genuinely disappointed when the notification says that someone posted in a group, or commented on a picture that wasn't directed at me.

I don't even know. It's a black hole.

I haven't yet gotten to the point where I use Facebook as a diary (my pet peeve is when people make public updates that are like "you broke my heart; I hate you; I love you"), but I can see the storm approaching. When you want to document your whole life to put on a little screen, that's when you know you have a problem.

Even when I try to branch out to other sites, it gets linked up with my Facebook account (let's see how many times I can write "facebook" in this post, shall we?). I made a Goodreads account with the intention of reading books, and then marking that I'd finished them. Is that what happened? Nope, nope, nope. It popped up on Facebook, and I started staring on the screen, wondering how many likes my Goodreads update would get.

In case you were wondering, it was 0. Popularity, FTW.

I could delete my account. I should delete my account. And yet. I feel naked without this social networking. What if someone invites me to a party (okay, the library)? What if I miss the fact that some high-school chick was out with the girls, and wanted textttttssss?
What if the world explodes, and I miss the memo because I wasn't on Facebook?

You never know.

It won't be much longer until there are serious "facebook anonymous" groups.

Namaste.