So I mentioned in another post that I was feeling depressed. Well, today, I cried.
I cried for the second time this year because I felt so stuck. My mother turned off the internet today.
Because it is her house. It is her internet.
She has been saying that she was going to cut the internet because she felt like “we” are addicted. She said that she caught herself using the internet for 4 hours straight and realized that she needed a fast.
But……..what does that have to do with me. She can have a fast but that doesn’t mean that she should force the whole household to do it.
I don’t have problems with internet fasts. I’ve done them.
I don’t feel addicted to the internet. I stayed in my dad’s internetless apartment all summer last year.
My problem is that as a 26 year old underemployed woman who lives with her mother, I have NO say.
I want internet. In fact, I pay for the internet but it’s in her name.
Ok. So great, I don’t have to pay the bill. That saves me money.
But it doesn’t save my freedom, my feelings of lack of control, my feeling of being controlled, my choice. I started this very blog because I believe in the power of choices. I can choose to go to church. I can decide to follow Jesus. But right now, I can’t choose to fast from the internet or not. My mother is making me fast.
I tried reasoning with her. I tried to explain that she doesn’t have to cut the internet. She could simply fast on her own like I did. She could use her willpower to not turn on the internet. But no. She doesn’t simply want that. She wants everyone in her household to do the same and she’s doing everything in her power to have her way.
That’s my problem with the situation. It isn’t bad to fast from the internet but I think it is wrong to make people fast, especially, adults. Now, I could understand if we were all teenagers then she’d be our guardian setting us straight, weening us off the internet, teaching us self control. But there is only one teenager living in the household.
The fact of the matter, we adults, my siblings and I, depend on her. We depend on a place to sleep and food to eat. And that makes me feel suckier. It’s like I have no choice.
Sometimes, I wish I could just make a crazy decision and strike out on my own.
I could be homeless but at least I could be free.
I just don’t like feeling stuck.
God, please help me.