Postfullness

I am emaciated. My ribs are shining through. I'm starving. I've been deprived of attention. I've deactivated my Facebook account. I've been in denial about it's impact on me for a while. Symptoms included:

• Thinking in Status Updates
• Clicking my wall, my recents, and my groups in consecutive order over and over hoping someone will post something and I just accidentally missed it.
• Typing "www." into my browser and "Facebook.com" is the first option for completing my blanks-- followed by www.facebook.com/*insert picture or wall here*-- which would take me to exactly where I left off. 
• Only talking to my mom or deployed husband through their chats. 

The list goes on. To be sure in the week since I've downsized I've conversed with less people, though my conversations have actually been more intimate and impacting when I do have them. On the other hand, I often find myself getting online just to click buttons and hope for the good ole feeling of clicking through things. My husband didn't actually understand it, "How are you going to keep up with people?!". And in truth a little of his panic was in me too. But then I remembered a time, long ago when people talked and interacted and they had private lives they kept private. While I'm still a long time away from recovery, I've made some good leaps and bounds from the parasite that was on my back. I might be a little lost and a little gaunt without it, but I have a feeling that by the time my two month escape is over, I won't be too concerned anymore.