The other day I read a blog post by Penelope Trunk about the difficulty of accepting silence. She was talking about speeches; how when you’re speaking publicly, it’s easy to get in a hurry and talk non-stop just to get it over with. Talking continually makes us feel safer, but it’s pauses, or silence, that actually gives our words some of their greatest meaning.

While she was discussing public speaking, for some reason when I read that post, I instantly related it to technological silence, or lack thereof. We are becoming so saturated in online communication that when we are not bombarded with messages, the silence feels wrong.

My first experience with online messaging was AOL (we got it so early on, my screen name was EmilyG); then instant messenger took over and was how I passed most high school evenings. In college I became more of an e-mail junkie, and then Facebook was born. Then there was MySpace, Twitter, and LinkedIn. Then Gmail, which all my close friends switched to, and its accompanying Gchat. Then when I started working full-time, there was my work e-mail, and now I have a Twitter for work. Then there’s the comments I receive on my work blog and now this personal blog. There are a million different ways to contact me at all hours of the day or night.

I keep my Gmail account open in a Firefox tab throughout the workday, and without a doubt, at least every hour a few e-mails will pop up, whether it’s my mom checking in, a comment on my blog, an invite to a party via Facebook or a notification that someone is following me on Twitter. Even when I’m home, I compulsively check my e-mail. Then there’s the work e-mail coming in all day; pitches from PR people, links co-workers thought would be useful for a story I’m working on, information from my boss about an upcoming project, etc.

Each e-mail, notification, comment or invite I receive means someone was thinking of me. When I’m really deluged with messages, I’m not going to lie; it makes me feel a little important.

So what happens when the messages cease? If I ever go through an hour without receiving one IM, Gchat, work e-mail, or personal e-mail, I start wondering what could be wrong. The silence is deafening. Is Gmail having another malfunction? Are a lot of people in a meeting right now? What’s going on? WHY DON’T PEOPLE NEED ME?

It’s one thing if I was a CEO who was being bombarded by messages, because that type of person actually is very important, makes critical decisions and needs to be in constant contact with numerous people. But little me, barely a year out of college? Nope; not that vital. Interestingly, the way we are now all massively connected online, both with strangers and friends alike, everyone can feel grandiose. The biggest nerd in the world can be hugely popular and never go a moment without blog comments and e-mails if he writes a cool enough blog.

Because I have become so accustomed to the constant influx of communication, I freak out when it’s gone. When I was in Europe for two weeks earlier this summer with little e-mail access and a global cell phone that only a few people knew the number for, I felt totally disconnected from my life back home. It was so refreshing for the first week, but then I began experiencing withdrawals. I missed that feeling of being contacted constantly — knowing I was needed and wanted. People were getting along just fine without me. Why couldn’t I just enjoy the silence indefinitely?

This ongoing deluge of online communication has also led me to become perpetually distracted. My attention span has dwindled. It’s become hard for me to focus on just one thing when there are so many other things I can do. When I’m in the middle of working on a booger of a story, my mind drifts and begs me to check out my friends’ latest tweets or see who’s changed their relationship status on Facebook or IM an old friend. There are so many available distractions that even when they are not directly coming to me, they beckon me. It even happens when I’m offline; sometimes I’ll be happily reading a book, but will get a sudden urge to see if my inbox has anything waiting for me. It’s an addiction.

The Internet certainly can aid in productivity, but I’m afraid for those of us raised in this online age. Too much social behavior is happening online and too little offline. There are many old friends I’ve been reconnected with for years now, but our only communication has been through AIM and e-mail or Facebook. Parties that used to happen by word-of-mouth are now promoted through Facebook invites, and my dear boyfriend, who canceled his Facebook account last summer, often has to be informed of events by me because so many people don’t pick up the phone anymore. I probably spend more time catching up with my family through AIM, Facebook, and e-mail than on the phone. I don’t even know many of the people I interact with on Twitter or my blog. The Internet can make us feel so loved, but we have to take a step back and realize how artificial it can be.

I’m not sure what I can do about this. I think I just need to be aware of these issues and catch myself when I start wandering into the bowels of the Internet instead of being productive. I also need to realize that just because someone sent me an e-mail and I was notified at that very instant, I do not need to respond immediately. If I really want to know how someone is doing, I should pick up the phone and call them. In this instant gratification world, we’ve developed a sense of urgency about everything. I think we’ve all become so fragmented, we could all probably qualify for an adderral prescription if we got tested for ADD. I need to take a breath and remember that no, I’m not that important, and yes, the world will go on without me. And I shouldn’t let so many of my friendships exist primarily online. While I’ve almost always been against the concept of workplaces blocking Web sites, I’m starting to understand why they do it. So many sites are a total time drain and really shouldn’t be accessed when people are being paid to work. I’d probably be more productive if I could kick my addiction to social networking. But what about e-mail? I can’t turn that off. You can’t function in the business world without it.

The more I think about this, the more I thank God I don’t have a Blackberry or an iPhone.

How do you stay productive when the Internet’s distractions are beckoning you? How is your social life affected by the Web?