'Facebook scares me': One man explains how his use of a social- networking website spun out of control

Rather like heroin use, the first heady days of Facebookmembership can be lost in a hazy love affair with inboxes full of"friend" requests and flirtatious messages ("pokes"). But like manyaddictions, it can leave you slumped on a mattress with nothing butyour laptop, a few mouldy coffee cups and a sense of exhaustion,fear, and self-loathing. "I gave up when I realised that I didn'tneed a social network to have a fulfilling life - I'd much rathermeet up with someone over a pint," says 27-year-old Sam.

He, is one of a growing tribe of Facebook "refuseniks",disillusioned with the seductive charms of the popular site, whichhas claimed 24 million screen-slaves worldwide since its conceptionby a couple of spotty (now-billionaire) college students in 2004. Sopopular has the site become that in the past six months' membershiphas risen at 19 times the rate of MySpace, surging 523 per cent to3.2 million.

Like many Facebook users, Sam was cynical at first and joined onthe premise of boosting his freelance photography career, but soonthe hypnotic screen revealed a side to his character that would havebest remained hidden. "I'm ashamed to say it, but Facebook turned meinto an Internet stalker. I'd broken up with my girlfriend a coupleof months earlier, I was tempted by morbid curiosity, expecting tofind a photo of her with someone else. It was a frighteningexperience."

Sam also got caught in the grip of Facebook's virtual popularitycontest. "I became obsessed with how many friends I had. I acceptedpeople's "friendships" because it would add to my figure - notbecause I wanted them to be my friend."

But Facebook "friendliness" is no substitute for genuinefriendship, says Professor Ray Pahl, co-author of RethinkingFriendship, and only leaves us feeling dissatisfied. He believesFacebook is a form of immaturity, "It's not a real social network,"he says, "it mimics the playground insecurities of primary schoolkids piling up best friends to find their social niche.

When people grow up and settle down, they realise that realfriendship isn't about turning on the computer - it requires realeffort and taking the rough with the smooth."

Like compulsively stuffing your face with chocolate eclairs whileaimlessly flicking through the latest issue of Heat, Facebookcleverly taps into the modern desire for "continual surfacestimulation", says psychologist Derek Draper. "There is somethingabout our culture that pushes us towards activities that arehypnotically shallow, rather than committing to something moreprofoundly."

Sam agrees: "You join Facebook on the pretence that you want tostay in touch with people, but it just becomes a gap-filler. I wouldfind myself endlessly refreshing my page out of boredom. Eventually Iwould find myself trawling through my list of friends and realisingthere were only a few people I wanted to talk to. I got quite angrywith the whole thing."

Sinister, exciting, addictive, irritating - whatever ourrelationship to the online networking phenomenon, it now performs animportant social function for a large portion of the 15 to 35demographic. But the real question is whether it will vanish in apuff of its own hype, or prove to be the tip of a virtual iceberg? Arecent YouGov survey found that only 50 per cent of people questionedsaid they would still be using Facebook in five years, compared with94 per cent who said they would still use Google, suggesting that itis more likely to be driven by changes in fashion.

Safely disentangled from his virtual friendship web, Sam says henow appreciates "hearing people's voices" or "bumping into oldfriends accidentally". "Isn't life more interesting that way? I am nolonger an avatar - it actually requires some effort to be my friend.Writing on people's walls and checking out their photos doesn't addup to friendship." www.horsemouth.co.uk