Tag: web

MY INTERNET ADDICTION

I’ve come to the awful realisation that my life revolves around my internet addiction. I’m ashamed to say that it’s now a need rather than a want and it’s become more than an interest or even a necessity to enable me to function adequately. I’m mortified that when I have guests, sometimes I can’t wait for them to leave or I finish a phone call to a friend prematurely so that I can feed my addiction and that’s just awful and plainly unacceptable.

When I first wake in the morning, I should be thinking about getting out of bed before my Carer arrives to help me get showered and dressed, and perhaps, thinking about whether to have Cornflakes or muesli for my breakfast. Instead of that, my first thought is that I’ve got to get up because I need to go and check my email accounts and log into my Facebook page and if I can’t justify that then I’ll check my Amazon order to see whether it’s going to be delivered today or tomorrow. Better still, I could take a look at my bank account details hoping I will find the balance is black rather than red.

I bring up my WordPress blog and sit, staring at the screen. I’m racking my brains for a topic to write my next post about yet my mind is completely blank, so I find myself casually wandering off to my Twitter account (not that I’ve quite got the grasp of how Twitter works yet). I come back to my blog because I want to read my fellow blogger’s latest posts. But, I often fail at that too because of the incessant need to get my next fix of scrolling across the screen or tapping on the keys.

Just lately, I haven’t been feeling too great (I’m getting over a persistent viral infection) and have spent far too much time online, wandering from page to page, so much so that my right index finger is sore and aching from clicking my mouse and scrolling up and down the page. How sad is that?

In the evening, after my Carer has left and I’ve had my tea and got my pyjamas on, I ought to be thinking about going to bed. I tell myself that I’ll just spend five more minutes surfing the net. But, I don’t do that – it turns into ten minutes and then fifteen and before I know it, an hour has passed. I start nodding off – my forehead nearly hitting the keyboard.

I’ve really got to go to bed as I have to be up early in the morning. Why do I have to get up so early the next morning? Not because I need to let the cat out or I really should make that international phone call. I don’t have those excuses – I don’t have a cat and the time difference between my friend and me means she will still be asleep in bed. No – I need to get up that early because my addiction to the internet means I have to connect to my laptop and start the whole damn process again.

 

 

 

 

TRAPPED WITH BROKEN PIECES

Image result for a chameleon caught in a spider's web

I’m in an awful situation, a predicament in fact, that I cannot escape, no matter how hard I try. I am doomed to failure through my own success. Death would be a very welcome end for me. I fear the devil and going to hell, but I know that our God is a forgiving God and I know that I will surely confess my sins and will do so honestly and willingly. Apart from which, our God is an all-knowing God.

I am a chameleon … a woman of many disguises. I mould myself to be whoever you wish me to be. My being lives only in your imagination. I have no peace or harmony within my mind. I just have a very toxic brain and equally toxic thoughts. I am an imposter … Ellie, yes … but somehow, I appear to be a very skewed version of my very soul.

I am a master of disguise, a keeper of secrets, living a life of self-deception. I figured I knew my very essence, but I was just kidding myself. It would take a very experienced private investigator to fathom me out at my most raw and vulnerable, to expose the very core of me. I feel unclean and wretched … contaminated is a word I have used more times than I can count to describe myself.

I’m a shadow in a mirror. I am a stranger you may pass in the street. I am both the spider that spins the web and also the fly which is caught helplessly in the centre of it all. Jagged glass has nothing on me … come too near, and you will surely be wounded by the shards.

Therefore, approach if you wish but only with extreme caution and entirely at your own risk. I can damage hearts, not willingly or intentionally but inadvertently.

I am what I am, and I detest that fact with a passion so fierce that I could be the ignitor of the very flames of hell themselves. I am what I am … or am I??

I am broken but don't want to hurt you with my pieces

Translates as “I am broken but don’t want to hurt you with my pieces.”

 

 

“OH, WHAT A TANGLED WEB WE WEAVE”

‘As she weaves herself tighter and tighter into the web, the hole becomes deeper and deeper and she sees no way to escape. She has become desperate to escape, desperate to not be despised but to be loved but cannot find the exit. Surely, reaching the exit is the only way out but then she knows full well that doing so would mean total destruction of her world as she has always known it. It would be complete annihilation of her life as she knows it. She is terrified of the hurt and damage she would cause, both to loved ones and friends and ultimately to herself. Oh, what a tangled web she weaves.’

How do I help her? She has confided in me. I was, and still am shocked. Tears were running down her face as she blurted it all out. I thought it would never end. She is desperate for me not to break her confidence. How do I hold on to a secret so huge? Although I don’t want to break her trust, what about all those who are being wronged and hurt by her and have been in the past. I wish she hadn’t have told me. I have enough heartache and despair going on in my own life without holding on to someone else’s guilt and shame. Or is that just selfish? In telling me, she has deeply wounded me too. I thought I could trust her – now, I can never be sure of this again. I am angry! Am I right to be angry? Although part of me feels sorry for her because she is obviously in so much agony, another part of me hates her for the damage she has done over the years, not just to me but to many others too. Nothing life-threatening I know but so awful, just the same.

They say “you can fool half the people all of the time or all of the people half the time”. Well, as far as I can see, she has been fooling all of the people all of the time. And why? Why for so long? She says that she’s never known anything different, that she just wanted people to like her, to care for her. Well, many of them already did but she says she doesn’t believe that. I did too….will she ever believe me either? Who do I now turn too? I have been holding on to so many secrets of my own for so many years and am just beginning to unravel them in therapy. I don’t want more secrets….I have had enough over the years to last a lifetime. I know she needs help but how am I supposed to help her without her helping herself. How can I be responsible for her problems too. I wish she had told someone else. Why me? Or is that selfish too?

She is a forty-four year old ‘friend’. She is married with a husband and has three teenage boys. If I say anything to her husband, I know it will blow her whole world out of the water! Oh, I do wish she hadn’t had told me. She says she is sorry but sorry hardly even touches the edge of the hurt and anger that I feel.

I always thought she was happy but obviously not; otherwise why would she behave in this way? Half of me feels sorry for her but half of me hates her too. I hate her, not only for her deception and lies but also for want of a better expression for ‘dumping her shit on me’! And yet, I still have love for her – she has been a friend for a very long time and you can’t just wipe that out, at least I can’t although I know many that would. She is hurting but now, so am I. What do I do? I can’t go on like this. There must be a reason for all of this. I feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. Help!!

* (Some details have been changed to protect identity)