Facing the Facts

I have a problem.  It’s not something that’s easy to admit, but it’s there.  I can’t go more than five minutes without scratching that itch that burns inside of me until it’s satisfied.  I wake up in the middle of the night and I need some.  I’m on a conference call at work and I need a taste.  If I had an iPhone, I am sure I would hit rock bottom.

I am a Facebook addict.

There.  I said it.  As much as it shames me to admit it, I am.  From super pokes to friend requests, I crave the next notification I receive in Facebook.  Someone wrote on my Wall?  I’m like a kid at Christmas scrambling to see who and what.  And I can’t even begin to explain the rush when two people become friends on Facebook …….. as I suggested.

It’s intoxicating, reconnecting with long-lost classmates and keeping tabs on my friends who live around the corner.  Sure there are other social networks (this blog will be posted on my MySpace account), but none have the right combination of cool and mature like Facebook.  If for no other reason, you have to admire the fact Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg walked away from a $1 Billion offer (yes, with a ‘B’) in order to keep his vision for his creation intact.  Now that’s the brass balls kinda’ cool I want to be a part of.

So I diligently keep my browser open all day, periodically refreshing to see if anything new has come in.  I will admit the avalanche of application add-ons can get annoying and frustrating.  By the same token, I am sure heroin addicts get tired of the track marks, too.  Still, the rush makes it all worthwhile.   I scope other people’s pages to see what they’ve been up to and with whom they’ve been communicating.  It’s a little dirty and creepy, but then again aren’t all addictions?

I look at my Friends list and I feel like I’m building a little empire.  “Just hit 200 friends.  Next stop, 500!”  There’s an eerie appeal to creating a group in FB and watching as other people join it.  I send out e-mail invitations to people who would not otherwise take part in a social network and they sign up.  Can you hear the ego – and the addiction – being fed?

I’m also rediscovering my past.  Thanks for Facebook, my Friends list has exploded with individuals I’ve known since childhood.  High school classmates and grade school acquaintances, visiting their FB pages is like taking a trip to the past.  Like the virtual magic shroom that it is, Facebook is opening up areas of my mind I had forgotten were there.  Trip indeed.

So I wrap up this blogosphere confessional knowing that through admission I have taken my first step in facing my problem, and knowing it’s been more than 10 minutes since I’ve checked my page.  Gotta’ go.

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