An Incurable Addiction

By Kyaw Thein Kha
Tuesday, 27 October 2011

He found it difficult to withdraw from his addiction, especially, one so seductive as spending pleasant time with over 250 friends every day. Sometimes the middle of the night saw him and the friends visiting, exchanging pleasantries, enjoying each other’s company and sharing the events of the day. Sometimes the visits lasted until dawn.

He pondered a solution even to the point of asking close friends who are doctors. But they told him the addiction was nearly incurable. No medicine is known for such an illness. Sleepless nights were the result of the diseases’ unmerciful hold on him. Last week alone saw four such nights in a row. It was taking a toll on his work, and his health.

Total withdrawal seemed the only solution. Cold turkey. No more visits. No more conversations. No more reading the stories or seeing the pictures or videos.

His friends wondered where he had gone. He had never before failed to respond to a note seeking an appointment for a visit.  His beautiful friends could not understand that his health required him to depart the relationship.

Yesterday he told the team of network founder of his plan to withdraw, resign. They said he must not visit his friends for two weeks. If he could do that, then he could resign. Today he began to feel like a person with an addiction to narcotics.

Keeping his mind off his network of friends was a challenge. Focusing on studies was of utmost importance. Yet working with his “Buddy Mac”, his connection to the network, reminded him of his old ways.

He put his fingers on the keyboard and began typing “F – A – C ……..”. He stopped before he could type the next five letters. He remembered the words of the team from yesterday. Two weeks. No contact. That was the prescription.

His hands shook. His heart pounded as though to burst from his chest. He did not know what to do. It was as though not meeting with the friends would cause his death. What photos was he missing? What news? What articles? What comments might he be making to the posted materials? Yet he must stay committed to refraining. Remain strong.

Finally the shaking fingers began to fall asleep. The eyelids drooped, eager for rest. His body slumped and relief was at hand. But just to be sure, a Melatonin pill would help him make it through the first night in ages with an honest 8 hours. A prayer was a good idea as well. Let the addiction begin to fade, its hold on him recede. He must win this battle.

(I resigned from using FaceBook on 25th September 2011.)

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