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For the past two weeks I’ve been doing a detox from Facebook. Why? Because friends, my name is Katie Rost and I have a Facebook problem.

Usually I’m on FB trying to drum up interest in my tv show (Direct Access with Big Tigger) or take political shots at the insanity of the Republican party these days. Of course sometimes I’m just like “Left the supermarket, getting into my car” — you know, important sh*t like that.

Anyhoo, leaving Facebook is tough. All sorts of people think that if you have deactivated your account that you’ve:

A. dropped them as a friend
B. blocked them as a friend

I got several concerned notes from good friends of mine who thought I was dissing them. Funny though, I noticed none of the other 700+ people I’m supposedly friends with on FB contacted me to figure out the problem…. it was only family and real friends. The lesson: Your real friends and family will find your ass whether you are on Facebook or not.

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The Facebook detox was broken last night when I realized that my reason for not liking Facebook had everything to do with the fact that I’m dating someone who has an overwhelming (its upward of 50 people!) amount of pictures of himself with his ex GF on his Facebook profile with notes under pics like “My future wife” and “woman who I’m obsessed with, who YOU Katie Rost, are not.”

But as you guys know…. I’m not insecure. I’m just TOTALLY insecure and horrified by this in-my-face Facebook diss.

So in true Cancerian female form, I deleted my account and played with Chinese stress balls to get over my craving to reactivate. Quitting Facebook is like giving up booze. I’ve never been particularly successful at either endeavor.

At least an alcoholic has a support system. DING! We need the same for Facebook addiction. Never fear friends… I’ve got a starting point for our new Facebook addicted community:

The 12 Steps (of which I’ve only done 4 because I need to get back on FB rather than waste my time on this mess)

1. We find ourselves powerless over the inane need to tell the entire world, our network, our friends and family or people we only kinda know absolutely everything about our lives.
2. We post pictures with a burning internal desire to be loved that reeks of Sally Field’s acceptance speech during the 1985 Oscar awards: “You like me… you really, really like me”
3. We stalk people we date, people we want to date, people who broke our heart, people who were awesome in high school and are now bald and fat and people who post pictures from drunk nights out… oh, and everybody else….
4. We are sick voyeurs, and we’re sick and tired of being sick voyeurs.

Does anyone else feel the sting of this addiction? Tell me how it affects you! And help me get all the way to 12..

Kisses,
Katie

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