Three weeks ago I broke up with facebook and got back together with my life.
My mother always told me that the worst kind of people are those that have someone waiting on the side for when a relationship ends, but in this case I tend to disagree. My relationship with facebook had jumped the shark and my life was hanging over my shoulder begging for some attention, so I listened to my other lover and cut the chord. With a few clicks I ‘deactivated’ my account and haven’t looked back since.
Why did I delete facebook?
The better questions would be, “Why do I spend x # of hours a day looking at people I don’t talk to (and don’t even like)? Why do I drool over girl’s from my past and their latest baby drama and/or nose job? Why do I spend time looking at a boy that coulda- shoulda- woulda been?” Are any of these individual’s realities better than mine that I should spend my precious time devouring their status updates and photo uploads? The simple answer… hell no.
For me, facebook became a nervous tick. Something to do in my idle time. Except that my idle time turned into the wee hours in my bed when I wake up in the morning, after my first cup of coffee, in the elevator on my way to lunch, 2:00 pm, 4:00 pm, after work, 9:00 pm and then again before bed. Logging on to facebook became an extension of my every move and came to be part of every day’s definition.
And I know I am not alone.
I spent day after day writing on my friend’s walls and sending direct messages but never picking up a phone or meeting up for a drink. Instead, I would mechanically “like” post after picture. Instead, I would click through the latest album and fool myself thinking I was “in touch” with this person. Instead, I would take meaningless comments as declarations of real friendships.
The more my nervous tick or self-identified obsession with facebook (OKAY there I said it!!) grew, the more I felt alone. I can’t quite pinpoint what this loneliness was from, but I knew looking at x’s second and third child wasn’t helping. Neither was knowing every great (or horrid) thing about someone’s life before talking to them face to face, soul to soul. No longer were stories truly exceptional or exquisite as I had already seen it dumbed down for a brief status update. Facebook sure did it’s job, keeping me connected to the point that I felt alienated.
Kicking the habit was harder than I expected and it took a life changing conversation to give me the swift kick in the patootie, but I did it, and here is what I learned: Life is better without facebook and I may never go back.
When you leave the book, you lose the chain. No one is following your every move and seeing your day to day life from an outside lens. People are genuinely excited to see you and share their days with you, instead of listening to it for the second time, as they got it the first time around from your profile. When you see someone, you get to exclaim “You look great!” and genuinely mean it. Stories seem more interesting. Friends seem closer. The world doesn’t feel like it is filled with 23-year olds with two children and baby daddy drama. Life just gets better when you leave the book.
