I have to admit I used to be addicted to Facebook. With more than 300 friends I felt loved and connected.

Checked it morning noon and night and sometimes even during the night if I couldn’t sleep. Completely addicted.

And I loved posting. Happy birthday to my  

  

 children. Look at me at the beach. A glass of wine and a meal with hubby. An award at school. An amazing soccer goal. A great day at work. You name it. I posted.

And posting meant checking to see how many comments. How many likes. I loved checking. Every 20 minutes!

And I admit I loved reading others comments. Their successes. Their happiness. Sometimes their sadness. It felt like a real friendship. A real connection. I was in a community.

Fair to say Facebook was a massive part of my life for years and years. Almost 10 to be exact.

Then boom. My four year daughter was diagnosed with leukaemia and I disappeared.

The thought of posting the news on Facebook made me sick. I did not want all those people to know. I did not want their comments. Their sympathy. I realised they were not my friends. Facebook wasn’t real. I didn’t belong anymore.

My news was too sad for Facebook.

I privately messaged my friends. And have been inundated with food, presents, messages.

I disappeared from Facebook without so much as a goodbye. No cake. No flowers. No farewell party. Just there one day and gone the next.

No one checked on how I was. Where I was. Nothing.

And just like that. March 14 2016 Facebook died for me. And part of me died too. The jovial part of life. The ‘look at me’ and ‘look at you’ part.

I’m not saying it won’t come back. But for now. Today. Facebook my old friend goodbye.

Sent from my iPhone

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