Before yesterday’s ban on Facebook, I would have laughed off the idea of being addicted to a social networking site. Really. It couldn’t have come down to this. Or has it?

Completely supporting the cause of the ban, despite myself, in the span of an hour, I found myself typing www.facebook.com in my browser at least twice. The address, for very obvious reasons, is proudly displayed as a bookmark on my toolbar but I still typed each letter out, prolonging it painstakingly, as if to give the Lahore High Court enough time to revert its decision.

I grew antsy with every email notification I got; a wall post message, a comment on my status, a gift, a “like” on my photo album. An emptiness nestled itself somewhere in me. It’s like there never existed a world without pirates, vampires and super pokes. With every notification, it became easier to identify the panic, to define it:

Hi, My name is Zeresh and I am addicted to Facebook.

Because seriously, what are the chances that I’d go out farming in 40 degrees Celsius or meet my mafia gang at Espresso? Very slim, verging-on-anorexic chances.

I struggled to adapt to this new concept of not knowing what everyone on my list was up to. I struggled more with figuring out if I even cared.

Why, of course, I cared. I cared so much about the hordes of redundant information, I realize that now, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. After all, the first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem, they say.

Submitting to the situation, mostly due to a lack of choice, I turned to other recreational endeavors but no matter the book I picked up or the movie I watched, I was compelled to broadcast my opinion about it.

To find myself reduced to face-to-face conversations or making time to actually meet my real friends and not just be happy in poking the 309 on my Facebook list made me queasy. (God forbid if I had to make an effort to get dressed up to step outside!) Life, I realized, wasn’t going to be as simple as a yes, no or maybe response to an event invitation.

As the day and this blog closed, another depressing realization struck, like that kick when you’re already down: I won’t get to link this blog to my wall! This has indeed been a lesson in learning to live a life that hasn’t been tagged.

So what do I do? Do I take advantage of this less demanding virtual social life? Do I plan on being more productive with the hours I used to spend on Facebook?

Do I take up a new hobby? Or learn an exciting new language? Perhaps yoga classes?

No. Instead, I stare in contemplation at the annoying blue Twitter bird.

Zeresh John is a multimedia content producer for Dawn.com.

Illustration by Eefa Khalid