Gimme me a break! This is why my FB detox didn't work

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Gimme me a break! This is why my FB detox didnt work

I'm not particularly 'active' on Facebook so, at first, I wondered why I couldn't be happy with simply not visiting FB.

by

Sushmita Bose

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Published: Fri 28 Aug 2015, 12:00 AM

Last updated: Fri 28 Aug 2015, 1:08 PM

A few weeks back, I decided to do a Facebook detox. Getting out of the loop by "deactivating" my account (not deleting it). Temporarily. I was inspired by a friend who keeps flitting in and out of a state of Facebook detoxification, and she'd told me nothing changes, life goes on; in fact, it gets better, because one actually gets a break from reading updates such as "So-and-so is at the Emirates lounge, drinking Coca-Cola, feeling good" and "Feeling blessed" (because the chickens came home to roost?).
I'm not particularly 'active' on Facebook so, at first, I wondered why I couldn't be happy with simply not visiting FB. But then, I realised there was no way I could stay away from clicking on that damn icon on my phone (I'm permanently logged in); I 'enter' Facebook on reflex, and end up gawking at somebody's execrably bad cover picture.
So, I needed a sense of closure - even though it was going to be short-term closure.
There was some annoying protocol. FB asked, for instance, why I was doing this? Why don't I (simply) log off instead (is Mark Zuckerberg a mind reader?)? Stopping short of exclaiming, "Why don't you mind your own business?", I clicked on the lamest option in the multiple choice list ("I'm taking a break!"). One last pop-up was: "Your friends will miss you!!!" alongside photos of people I haven't interacted with in the past three years. I determinedly clicked 'Deactivate'. And the deed was done. I was in detox mode.
Then, the problems started. My father - who is online once in 10 days, so what are the chances of him messing around on Facebook the very day I deactivate my account? - SMS-ed me to say I should "check Facebook at once" because he's posted something frightfully important on his page.
"Umm, I'm doing a detox."
"What vices have you incorporated into your life that you need to break free from them?" he asked sternly.
"No, no, not that kind of detox, a Facebook detox."
"You're going to be missing out something extraordinary if you don't check my page!" he persisted.
"Yeah, yeah, it'll be the first thing I check when I'm back." In six months' time.
The next day, a friend called to tell me how disappointed he was I couldn't join him and a bunch of other nice folks for dinner last night. The gossip quality was top notch, he added.
"But I wasn't informed about this dinner," I sulked.
"Of course you were! It was flagged in our Facebook group, you must have received a notification."
"I deactivated my FB account," I said miserably, and hung up.
Meanwhile, one of my closest friends - who I know for a couple of decades now - blew out quite a lot of candles on his birthday. and I clean forgot to wish him. In the pre-detox era, I would get early morning Facebook notifications (plus firm instructions like 'Write on his/her timeline'); the dependency syndrome had come to such a pass that I'd stopped making mental notes of birthdays (forget about making entries in my diary or setting phone reminders). I received a stinker from my friend on Whatsapp the day after his birthday - which went along the lines of "Out of sight, out of mind? That's what fair weather friends are for. Glad to know you." I hung my head in shame but I was still hell-bent to see my detox through.
A couple of days later, my mother called to say one of my cousins had gotten engaged - ending years of speculation on him being misogynist and, therefore, a confirmed lifelong bachelor. "Why wasn't I informed?" I shrieked.
"I thought you already knew," she responded. "Some photos have been posted on that computer game, what's it called, Facebook? Your father showed them to me - when he was playing Facebook."
That was it. Last weekend, I checked back in. I have been reduced to posting photos of the prawn curry I made at home. But at least I'm not missing out on life.
sushmita@khaleejtimes.com


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