I Love/Hate Facebook

by

Mark Zuckerberg has both greatly enriched - and ruined - my life.

Facebook is one of my addictions. It’s no secret to anyone. It’s awesome to stay in touch with high school and college friends who I never would otherwise. I enjoy seeing what people are up to, what they ended up doing with their lives, what their children look like. I also love to write, and I love to make people laugh. So it’s perfect for me.

Sometimes.

I love Facebook. And I hate Facebook. As much as it has the power to elevate my mood, it has the same power to crush it. It makes me feel good to entertain people. I’m sarcastic in my everyday life, and I just update Facebook the way I talk. I’d prefer to be with friends in person, having a conversation, but since that’s not feasible with our busy lives, jobs, and kids, a social network will have to do. So I’ve become addicted. It’s hard for me to ignore a notification. I want to respond to it. Right away. And then they keep coming, and coming…

I’m a people pleaser. I wish I weren’t. I’ve been trying to change this my whole life. I want everyone to like me. Logically, I know that’s not possible. Not everyone likes Oprah, and I can’t even fathom that. So I should know not everyone is going to like me. I mean, I’m not giving away cars or Uggs for no reason at all.

I feel good about every “like” or positive comment I get on a status update. It gives me a rush, which fuels the addiction. At the same time, when something “bad” happens, like I notice a friend has deleted me, I feel like a knife has been shoved through my heart.

 Not so much when it’s someone I didn’t know too well, but definitely when it’s a person who I’d considered a real friend.
I’ve been told Facebook isn’t “real life,” but I don’t know what that means. My updates are things that I’d actually say, which is part of my personality and who I am, so to me, a person deleting me is his or her way of saying he or she doesn’t like me. I know I’m overly sensitive. I am. I take everything personally.

I know part of this mindset comes from being bipolar, which has been described as “having no skin.” So everything hurts me. When I’m manic, I update Facebook. A lot. It’s like I can’t stop. I used to drink. I used to smoke. Now I write little snippets detailing stuff my kids say or observations about random happenings throughout the day. I’m sure I annoy people. I know I must take up some people’s entire newsfeed. Still…

I can’t stop.

I’ve taken breaks. It’s hard. Every time I get a thought in my head that I think is funny or clever, it’s like I’m bursting at the seams to let it out. I’m not sure why. But on the upside, at least this addiction isn’t destroying my lungs or liver.

What I’d really like to do is get a hold on my addictive personality. It’s always been there. If I could manage it better, maybe I could relax and not feel as strong of an urge to update this social network as often as I do. Maybe I could begin to learn that not everyone likes me, and that’s okay. Maybe. Or maybe I should start Facebookers Anonymous. Yeah. 

I’m gonna go make an update about that.