My Battle with Facebook Syndrome

      Facebook syndrome... this blog is the beginning of my recovery. Online social networking has had a remarkable influence on my social habits. When I recently noticed that I was thinking of my life as a series of status updates, and feeling as though the interesting or fulfilling things I did in a day were less worthwhile if I did not post something on my wall for every one of my 378 "friends" to see, I realized that I had Facebook syndrome. I have an insidious, contagious disease that makes me think that I need to share every detail of my life with everyone, or else be left behind. If not for Facebook, would I tell that one out of state guy who I met twice that I got an awesome massage today? Does every last one of my current and former classmates need to know what my GPA is? Chances are no. But the constant stream of information I can project into my news feed gives me a continuous opportunity to look cool to as many people as possible. No, I really don't need to tell that guy about my awesome massage, but if he sees that information maybe he'll "like" it. Pressing that like button is almost interacting! It perpetuates a friendship that doesn't exist, much like pressing 2 to continue perpetuates "conversations" with automated customer support menus on the telephone.  

       Publishing everything we could possibly wish to share about our lives does not actually make us more interesting. I feel about my Facebook statuses the same way I feel about the Heidegger and Foucault and Sartre books that were, until two weeks ago, sitting on my shelf; I accumulate them because having them makes me feel smarter, but it is only a projection. If I keep books on my shelf simply to show off, then I am better off without them (and the used bookstores paid pretty well for a few of those texts, while my IQ does not, in fact, seem to have lowered since I parted with them). Likewise, despite my addict's convictions telling me otherwise, my life will not become less interesting if I stop posting about it on the internet. Yet I crave, I yearn, I NEED to tell people what I am up to, because Facebook syndrome tells me that if not everybody knows about my last delightful day trip or brilliant epiphany, it may as well not have happened. I suppose if it's that important to share, I have to actually pick up a phone and contact people, the way I did earlier today when I called an old friend simply to tell her about a funny license plate she would like. We talked for an hour. 

        When communication is directed at people, and not just at a nebulous cyber audience, it starts to mean more. I think more about what I say. After all, would I really have told my ex-boyfriend everything I posted on Facebook as a publicly passive-aggressive way to let him know how I was doing after he broke up with me? I felt like a tabloid star when I changed my relationship status back to "single." And I felt the burning need to post, and then repost 3 times, every awesome thing I did without him to rub it in his face. I would never do that to him in person. I would never call somebody to say "Guess what, I am having the best vacation without you!" But Facebook syndrome, that insidious disease, made me post every little detail about that weekend, just in case it hit his news feed. I didn't have to take responsibility for it- after all, I wasn't really talking to him. 

       The online fallout from my breakup helped push me to leave behind the habit of self-indulgence I developed during my years on Xanga, Myspace, and Facebook. I don't wish to seem like I'm picking on these sites, because social networking has revolutionized business, advertising, event organizing, and so many other aspects of social life. Perhaps Facebook is like alcohol. Some of us are just predisposed to using it poorly, and most of us overindulge at least for a while.