Internet is Another Word for I

This is an introduction into my struggles with internet addiction, which will be a precursor into the story of how I would later be admitted into the Mental Health Ward.

BREAKDOWN

This following is based on a true story.

“Under the weight of my invading deep depression

I’m losing sane against the gravity of life

And with anxiety in every conversation

Earning it to learn how to survive”

-Egypt Central: Beautiful Misery (With Mike’s Dead)

Chapter 1: Internet is Another Word for I

Ding. What does that sound make you think of? A doorbell, to be greeted by the closest of friends? An oven, filling the house with the aroma of a birthday cake or thanksgiving pie? For me, it is a reminder of the deepest darkest secret parts of me that I kept locked away for so long and for so well. Now, every doorbell, every oven, every timer, every e-mail, and every Facebook message becomes my personal Hell. Welcome.

Now, technically speaking, a Facebook message doesn’t actually have the ding sound, but if you lived in the 90’s, then you know an AOL message or e-mail was the equivalent. The internet was in it’s infancy when I was in high school. Internet in the mid-90’s wasn’t what you know and see today. It started to become a household staple in the mid-90’s, but even before AOL there was this program my school introduced. I forget exactly what it was called, but it was the first time we could send messages in mass to the entire school if we really wanted to. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I did. There was a viral video back then called the Dancing Baby. To be honest, I didn’t even know it had anything to do with the television show Ally McBeal. I just thought it was a funny baby, and sent it to 400 classmates. Mind you, I was not one of the popular kids, so more than anything, people were just confused.

This was the beginning. The beginning of my obsession, a way out, a way to communicate. It was a way in which I felt I could be heard, but what I learned over the years is that communication is so much more than what you say. Without eye contact, body language, and an expression in your face, you basically say everything and nothing at the same time.

The internet changed rapidly, and quickly became a required part of everyday life, including my college education. I allowed the internet to consume me. While I was learning, growing, and changing, the internet prevented me from learning, growing, and changing. The early years of the internet were a bit of a challenge when it came to education; it didn’t have quite the extensive database it has today, but what it did excel at was giving us the opportunity to communicate with those whom we otherwise would never have talked to. That was my first mistake.

As I continued my education into college, I would meet my first girlfriend. We shall call her Kelly, but that is not her real name. If you’re wondering if things worked out, they didn’t, because that isn’t the point of my story. However, one part that is important is how I made the internet more important than her. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my addiction had already started. You see, I asked Kelly out through a hand-written note. She accepted, and we dated very briefly, and she broke things off very quickly. We agreed to stay friends, and that is where things went downhill. I began messaging Kelly. Part of it was missing her. Maybe another part was really desiring that connection that I had never felt before. Whatever the case may be, I found myself messaging Kelly every time we were apart. These were in the early days of Internet, so nobody had really experienced this before. We primarily messaged through a program called AOL Instant Messenger, or AIM for short. Looking back, I realize that in all these messages, I was missing the frustration she probably had in her voice, if her eyes had rolled every time I said a joke she probably didn’t think was funny, if she groaned if I so much as started typing. I lost the ability to understand. I lost the ability to think clearly beyond my own world. Most importantly, I lost the ability to empathize with how someone else felt. What is rather ironic here, is that I even recognized it. I apologized to Kelly for seeming like I was messaging her too much, and she even told me I was correct in that assessment. Even with that milestone moment of clarity, I couldn’t stop. Kelly would soon end our friendship. Let’s just say that our split was definitely not amicable. We had our words back and forth through the mightiest weapon of all, the pen...or in this case, a keyboard. The most disturbing thing of all, is that all along the way we could see every bit of each other’s breakdown.

When things had finally cooled down, I thought this chapter in my life was already over, but the truth was this was just the introduction for what was to come many years later.