Here at IAA we pride ourselves on our unique and, some would argue ironic, approach to escaping Internet addiction through the Internet by several different methods including confessions: "I am an Internet addict", gentle motivation "get your lazy ass out off the computer chair and get a life" and handy visualisation tips "visualise the wifi bubble. Now step outside the bubble and into the light", to help you eventually overcome your Internet dependency. Visit the website here... And take the online test to see if you are am Internet addict.

Chapter 1: Are you starting to scare yourself?

The highlight of my day: a 60 year old woman screaming at the manager in Marks and Spencer about the extortionate prices of their salmon - "You are robbing people, robbing them I say! Not to mention the salmon bloody stinks!" On my fifth not-so-subtle round of pathetically attempting to be shopping whilst seamlessly staring, it had broken off, leaving some disgruntled staff to angrily go back to packing the shelves. I assume that the downright violent woman was escorted off the premises by security as she was a 'risk to public safety'. It was all rather traumatic.

Off course, I wouldn't have to endure this terrible ordeal if there wasn't a fucking power cut in my little neighbourhood because there's a new little invention called online shopping which stops us having to deal with these kinds of tiresome dramatics. And it's all part of the amazing Internet or "Almighty One" as I call it. It seems though, that they can invent a computer as thin as paper but they can't prevent a power cut. There wasn't even a fucking storm. So what the hell is the powercut's problem? Does it have something against me? Does it not realise that my whole fucking life is devoted to "Almighty One". Does it want to completely ruin my day? Mission accomplished.

There I was, drinking my hot chocolate, just about to click the magical "add to cart" button for my favourite biscuits, when the world went dark. The lights fizzled out, plunging me into a hellish, dark oblivion. The Apple computer before me was the only thing providing a source of pearly light, like a heavenly glow from above, my only guidance through the cruel, dark world.

Then that died too.

The aching groan it made as the screen faded was possibly the most heartbreaking sound I have ever heard, like a million cats wailing all at once. And I found myself in a pitch black room with no way out.

It was at that point that I considered joining the computer. Death would be more merciful than this cold, black world without a sole or friendly light in sight. I stumbled blindly in my isolated prison, hopelessly lost and desperate, wondering if it would ever end.

Then I realised that it was the daytime and I could just pull back my fucking blackout curtains to see again.

Seriously how stupid can you get?

The daylight flooded in, burning my now pale creamy white skin. I put a protective arm over my eyes, shielding it from the deadly sunlight. It burns! Because I'm now a fucking vampire apparently. My eyes were watery, from the sunlight or the dramatic event, I have no idea.

Deciding to be practical for once, I made my way over to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, ignoring the clock that said 4:04PM. Yep, I'm nocturnal now. Deal. I opened the fridge, finding to my dismay only one measly block of mouldy cheese and an unidentifiable substance. I think it was once a potato but it was an odd blue colour...

Frantically, I searched the remaining cupboards, hands grasping wildly for something, anything remotely edible. The cupboards lay bear. I would have to, God forbid, go to the supermarket. I crouched down, leaning against the counter for a minute as I thought about the impending doom lay upon me. This endeavour would involve walking and movement and (oh don't say it, please no) possibly actually talking to other people.
I think it was about then that I started to hyperventilate.

You would too if you hadn't been outside in 2 months, 3 weeks and 4 days. Not to mention that I hadn't had a conversation that didn't involve over 20 acronyms in 5 months, or used my voice in a long time either. I quickly tested it, just to make sure it was still there...

"Fuck," except it only sounded in my mind. At least I think it did... I'm not entirely sure anymore. This. Is. Not. Good.

I crawled over to the computer, my baby. And it was then I went through a whirlwind of several stages of emotions in the shortest time possible.

1. The gentle persuasion. "Come on baby. You can do it. Just reboot and power up. You're a good girl aren't you, yes you are." Accompanied with stroking, pushing multiple buttons and even hugging the damn thing.

2. The hysterical crying. "WHY? Why would you do this to me?! Do you hate me or something? What did I ever do to you?" Accompanied with shaking the computer and lying in a curled up ball.

3. The abuse. "Fucking piece of shit!" Kick. "You suck, you fucking stupid bitch!" Kick. Smash. "Oh shit..."

4. The apologies. "I'm sorry baby! I didn't mean it, not really. Please just turn back on. I'm so sorry." Accompanied with more stroking, hugging and even kissing.

5. The denial. "Nooooo! It can't be broken! It can't be!" Accompanied with sobbing and frantic, super sonic speed button bashing before rolling on the floor.

Then the lights came back on. The computer didn't.

That was when I actually seriously considered killing myself.

Damn. I need help.

It was late at night. I'd had chocolate... Do I need to say anymore? It could continue if anyone actually miraculously likes it. Review if you want. :)