J.D., living a life free from addiction as he is, has to still deal with the difficulties. Such as addictions to things we ‘trust’, like apps designed to make us spend and spend and spend… the next gen addiction!
What difficulties? People. I’ve been at my job for now over two months.
And while I love certain aspects of it, I hate certain others. What do I love? I love the sense of accomplishment I get at finishing a task – to my satisfaction. Where I’m proud of what work I’ve produced, and eagerly await feedback.
And the feedback so far has been good. They, the bosses, love my writing. I am most honoured. I put my heart and soul into my pounding of the keyboard keys, they take a piece of my soul, really. When I’m told I’ve written astoundingly good work, it’s hard not to pat myself on the back.
Especially, considering, how a long life of drug and alcohol abuse has eroded my self-esteem. It really has. There’s a sense, for many addicts (I haven’t done a poll and I’m certainly no statistician) of worthlessness in the swirls of addiction, and the next gen addiction.
For many of us, it becomes a way of relieving the pain. And it’s not as obvious as injecting a narcotic in your arm to numb you from all that’s gone wrong.
Simply indulging in an addiction, for me, is enough to relieve discomfort. I still do it! I love to buy stuff I don’t need on ebay. Or games I’ll never play on Steam – an online gaming shop. All I need is my credit card details and a finger to push a transaction.
There’s food. There’s sex. The latter I avoid for fear of syphilis. Seriously. Google ‘syphilis’. Do an image search. You will swear a vow of Chasity that will last for eternity.
The Next Gen Addiction, Yeah, addictions are bad, and I’m not the best recovering addict to take advice from.
However, that said, I can comprehend the action of addiction in the brain – that reaction which happens in response to certain behaviours. Free of drugs I might be, but the behaviour, that I’ve not got beyond. It is a big deal not to be putting poisonous substances into my body. It’s just that the behaviour in other aspects of life is also destructive.
I won’t, most likely, die of an early heart attack or an artery in my brain popping. The ruin of quality of life is more likely if I don’t control these impulses to… buy… to shop…
It’s dastardly, though. We live in an age where our very phones, tablets, and computers are used by a new kind of dealer to secure our money. They offer deals to sucker you in. Items at 67% off! The excitement of purchasing something at the tap of a button is overwhelming.
And then, a few days later, we hear the doorbell ring.
Oooh! A goodie! It’s arrived! It’s like you order your very own birthday present any time you like.
There are so many online services offering good deals. I’ll give you an example of one that actually was a great deal.
I had been looking for Bluetooth headphones with noise cancelling tech for a while. I saw a product at a DarkWing (cleverly concealed name) store, that cost a fortune. I bought it, realised I was ripped off, told them there was a problem with it (there was, it was a blatant blood-letting), and got back my money. I then went online, found a foreign store that offered me a next generation headphone for three grand less, including shipping and import duties, and I happily paid for my most precious property yet.
An item I use, in the office (to write those articles that keep the bosses happy). It was the deal of the century.
Now I find it hard not to hunt other deals. Hunt other opportunities to buy stuff I either can’t get here, or can get here, but will be violently violated for.
There’s nothing wrong with an addiction to a good deal. The problem lies in hunting for good deals for things you had no interest in, in the first place. To simply buy for the sake of gratifying the urge to buy. Dealing with the next gen addiction.
It’s been hard ignoring that urge. The apps on your phone for certain of these sites are designed to entice you. To get you to push that payment button.
It’s a sickness. Really. And it’s one that can easily be as uncontrollable as crack cocaine.
I feel, personally, vulnerable to this sort of thing, as an (identified) addict.
What about people who have no history with drink or narcotics? What framework do they have to identify the compulsive urge they have to spend money? Money they shouldn’t be spending, money they need for other things?
It’s not gaudy like a casino, not dark like a crack den, but it is emptying like an abyss.
And it can suck any one of us in.
They count on us to become remiss.
It is a darkness we have to resist.