Facebook. Four years ago I was a reluctant user. My Space was the way I rolled. Now…well, I’m an addict. There. I’ve said it and I am ashamed. The other day I did disable my account however, and I felt the happiest I’d felt in a long time. I also felt somewhat liberated. But before long, I was back, eager to share again. I don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s because I live on my own, have a non-existent social life and am a writer. I am obsessed with people and their habits (aren’t all writers?) but don’t like being around them all the time. Facebook provides, in some way, what I need, I guess. It can satisfy my curiosity while providing some form of interaction.
But, I can’t escape the fact that it is the biggest distraction in my life. Yes, in my life. I am working on finding a balance at the moment, rewarding myself with a few minutes when I have finished a piece of work. I tear myself to pieces when I feel that I’ve spent too much time on it. I want to get ‘You should be reding. You should be writing. You should be thinking.’ Tattooed somewhere on my body. To be honest, I find it somewhat embarrassing to be talking about this publicly. I am less reluctant to talk about this than I am to talk about my mental health problems. And I suspect that I am not the only one. When I Googled ‘Addicted to Facebook’ 77,100,000 results came up.
One of the things I need to get under control is my need to share pretty much everything. For example, if I’m listening to a song that makes me smile and my heart race, then I should be able to let that just be my experience and I should move onto the next thing left with good memories, but instead I feel I must share it on Facebook. Others simply must listen to it. The same with something funny. If I’m watching something and there is a fucking hilarious or ground breaking moment, I stop what I’m watching, find the clip on U Tube and have it posted to Facebook within minutes.
I do pride myself on not having internet on my phone though. Proves I can enforce some restraint.