My name is Irv and I’m addicted to Facebook.
I’ve suspected for sometime that I was hooked. On Christmas day about three or four years ago, I was home alone, lonely and bored. I opened a Facebook account and gradually got sucked in.
It was obvious from the start what the attraction was. It’s the strokes you get from being “liked” and the warm fuzzy feeling of connecting with old friends, with the past.
Yesterday I read a Newsweek article about how Facebook — and social networking in general — shrinks your brain and turns you into a social misfit.
I was accomplishing that on my own, but I can’t help but feel that Facebook has accelerated the process.
In recent months, instead of meditating first thing in the morning, I find myself “shooting up,” getting my morning Facebook fix. Throughout the day, I check in constantly. Looking for my strokes, massaging my dopamine receptors.
I kid myself that I need Facebook to keep track of my family or to stay abreast of developments in the news biz. But it’s all about the strokes. Like me. Like my photo.
Should I quit cold turkey? Or just try to wean myself?
Maybe I can find a self-help group on Facebook.