The Diary of A Facebook Addict
Matt Abra, volunteer staff
My name is Matt, and I am a Facebookaholic. About a month ago, I decided to do the righteous thing and quit, once and for all. It has been a grueling 30 days, but lo and behold, I have not fallen off the wagon. I am still attending my weekly meetings Faceless Facebookers (FF), and things are going fairly well. My addiction appears to be subsiding, but I assure you all, this has been among the hardest things I have ever done. I liken it to quitting going to the bathroom.
My sponsor insisted that over the period of my rehabilitation it would be beneficial for me to keep a diary to document my progress. Now, being 30 days clean, I feel it is only fitting that I publish said diary. Perhaps my journey will be the stuff of inspiration, whereby all you other Facebookaholics out there can see that you are not alone, and truly, there is a light at the end of the message board.
Day 1
Upon retuning from my first FF meeting, I feel a calm crawl over me. I look at the computer and a slight smirk crosses my face. “I don’t need you,” I say aloud, and I walk right past it. It is one of the most satisfying snubs I’ve ever administered. This is going to be easy.
Day 3
In a bit of a haze, I attempt to read a book. Upon opening the front cover, I am immediately nonplussed by the fact that there are zero notifications, just some other strange gibberish called “acknowledgments.” I get a chapter in and find the clean composition to be utterly confusing. This freak writes the word “u” all weird, spelled “Y-O-U.” I am, however, introduced to a seemingly cool guy named Ponyboy. I try to send a friend request to him. It doesn’t work. In my fury, I stuff the book in my garburator.
Day 7
Trying to keep myself occupied with puzzles and old re-runs of Dallas, I find my interest wavering after only a few short hours. Simply watching Dallas won’t suffice, I want to be answering trivia questions about it as well. Slowly, I feel the craving seep in. At first it is just a few minor hand twitches. I think my arm has conditioned itself to reach for a mouse every few minutes or so. Eventually my mind starts to play tricks on me. Visions of zombies and pirates begin to invade my psyche. It’s only been a week. Am I really this weak?
Day 13
It suddenly dawns on me, I have not spoken to any of my friends in 10 days and I have not compared them. I have no idea about their current status or their relationships. I know that my friend Will was dating someone, but for all I know, he could be engaged now. In my panic, I fumble around in my pocket and produce my old cellphone. Problem! I forget how to work it. Terror-stricken, I hit a bunch of random numbers. I find myself talking to someone who calls himself Serge. He asks where I live. I can’t remember what I tell him.
Day 20
I must have blacked out. I awake on my hardwood floor and take a look at the computer. It is on. Oh no, did I succumb to the temptation? I can’t remember a thing. This has gone far enough. I pull out my phone and manage to call my sponsor. I ask him to come over, but, for some reason, only Dr. Phil shows up at my door. I don’t let him in.
Day 29
I can’t believe I’ve made it this far. Things have actually been OK the last couple of days. I can feel that calm coming back to me but I still haven’t been out of the house in a while. It is hard to find a reason to leave with no “events” page to guide me. I wander into my bedroom to find someone in my bed. He calls himself Serge and he asks if I would like some breakfast. Food! Now why didn’t I think of that?
Alas, that is my daring story. Now that I’m over the hump, I can start working on my 12 steps. I’m nervous about step seven. There are a lot of drunken pictures to apologize for.
