Facebook. It’s an addiction many people have. I know I do not stand alone on this issue. Why, even today, I was studying for my test and I took multiple study breaks just to check it.
But I finally had enough, and decided to delete myself from Facebook existence…at least temporarily.
Last year I went to post something on a friend of mine’s wall, but found his Facebook nowhere to be found. When I asked him if he deleted it, he told me no, but had deactivated after his breakup with a long time girlfriend.
I found this interesting. He still existed on Facebook in photos, but not in tags. And then three weeks later he rejoined the internet community as if nothing had changed. It was like Facebook magic.
My addiction to Facebook is rather sad. Most people on Facebook use it to play games. I admit, that used to be my main function of Facebook for a long time. But eventually Tetris Battle, Family Feud, and Words with Friends lost their luster and I mainly go on Facebook to see that little red number 1 next to my notifications. I love that little red notification number. It makes me so happy to know that someone likes me so much that they posted something on my wall. I use chat regularly to catch up with some friends from time to time.
And I love watching people’s lives fall apart via status updates. I don’t know what it is, but there’s something uplifting knowing that my life isn’t as bad as yours-or what you make it seem to be. But since Facebook decided to change things…again; my notifications are bunched (so if three people post on my wall, I only see a little red number one 1 instead of a little 3), games move slower for some reason, Facebook chat kicks me off all the time (not that it was really good to begin with. Anyone remember AIM? Anyone?), and I don’t like what Facebook has done with my news feed. I don’t care what’s popular; I want what’s going on now.
So when drama hit the proverbial fan in late October, I decided I was done with Facebook, at least for a little while.
I decided to deactivate it, which is a very simple process. If you go to your account settings, and then click security on the left side, at the bottom there’s a blue link that says “Deactivate your account.”
First, Facebook tries to guilt you, (as if making this decision wasn’t hard enough) and brings up pictures of you and your friends that say “So and So will miss you.” And then you have to choose your reason for leaving Facebook. Some of them are “I get too many emails” or “I don’t feel safe on Facebook.” Which then Facebook tells you about how you can adjust your settings. My reason, and probably the choice of many deactivators like myself: “I spend way too much time on Facebook.”
At least Mark Zuckerburg knows his product is addicting as crack. They should have Facebook rehab.
My other personal favorite reason: “This is temporary. I’ll be back.” And you better be back, or Facebook will find you.
So then you hit the big blue “deactivate now” button and your life is now Facebook free. A weight is lifted off your shoulders and you suddenly want to go skip in a field of flowers.
I went into class the next day, my class which is filled with computers. Where no one listens to the teacher and everyone is on…gulp…Facebook.
I sat between my two friends who were busy typing away on their social networking pages. I began to sweat rapidly and have hot flashes. My eyes darted between their screens as I watched them talk to friends, talk to each other, while I had nothing better to do but to listen in class.
I asked the girl next to me to search my name. I hoped, maybe, I did something wrong and I had the opportunity to sign back in without reactivating. It would be like I never left.
“Nope, I don’t see you,” she said. “Why, did something happen?”
“I deactivated it. I was just on it way too much.”
“Why don’t you just stop going on?” she asked.
She obviously didn’t understand the power my Facebook had over me. If I didn’t deactivate it, I knew it would still be there, and I could still go on it whenever I pleased. Now, I couldn’t.
At the same time I was ready to
deactivate my Facebook, a friend from home decided to do the same thing, but changed his mind about deactivating. He had found out by deactivating Facebook, it untagged him from pictures. Instead he had a friend change his password for him. So if you don’t have the courage to deactivate, or the willpower to just stay away, have a friend you trust interfere. Facebook addiction is hard to overcome by yourself.
“I went from Nov 1 – 21st…exactly three weeks,” says Jake Luttinger, who goes to UAlbany. “I was going to go for the whole month, but made good enough progress and got enough time off to “justify” reactivating it.”
But once you’re Facebook-less, it’s a wonderful thing – once you get over the initial emptiness. I got tasks done faster, and procrastinating hardly happened. Occasionally when I was bored, I’d play solitaire, so I did have something mindless entertaining me in the mean time.
If you do choose to deactivate your Facebook, it’s nice to give warning to the people you talk with most. You’ll find that they do miss you, but you can always find another way to communicate.
I lasted about a month, and rejoined Facebook just in time for Thanksgiving break so I could reunite with my friends from home to make plans.
Now that I’m back on Facebook, I know that it’s purely a procrastination tool. I use it mostly to keep in touch with my friends back home. It’s easier than sending an email, so that’s why I use it to send the stupid things I’ve stumbled on to people.
And now that I’ve fought my addiction, I know that Facebook no longer controls me, or Jake.
“For the record, I go on Facebook a lot less now than before I gave it up. I saw how little I needed it. So I never really came back full force,” says Luttinger.
Finals week is prime time to sit down and deactivate that Facebook. Stop yourself from procrastinating for that big calculus final. Just hit one little button. Remember, it’s only temporary, and your friends will be there when you get back.