"Hello. My name is LadyArtemis—I mean Kat! — and I have a problem. Im . . .sorry. My friends call me LadyArtemis. But that’s part of my old life. Let me start over. My name is Kat, and I’m an Internet junkie.

“It all started just over a year ago. My mom brought it into the house. She didn’t really know how to use it . . . but I did. I’d seen some of my friends use it at school. They seemed to happy when they did it.

“I thought, Ill just try it once, see how it is. Just so I can say I’ve done it. I didn’t really have anything to lose either. I was getting to that part in my life where I was depressed and insecure, and I didn’t have many friends and had been fighting with my parents a lot lately. I thought that the Net might allow me access into some sort of alternative culture and let me be accepted.

“So I tried it. The entire episode lasted about three hours. By the time I came off it, I knew things about the world that I had never known before.

“After the first time, I knew I liked it. I started doing it everyday, for hours on end. I would wake up around 6 in the morning and stay on throughout the day until 2 or 3 the next morning. I would trip into the real world and into my bed haggard but happy.

“All through that summer, I was euphoric. It was just me and my little technodrug. I had a wonderful secret that my parents didn’t know anything about, and didn’t pretend to understand.

“They pretty much just ignored me. I think they thought that the high would lose its edge after a while. Better for them to just stand back and let the effects take their course.

“After a few weeks, however, they began to get a little nervous. They tried to coax me away from my fixation with family outings and promises to pay more attention to me. They just didn’t get it. It wasn’t about that anymore. It no longer had anything to do with the fact that I was lonely and had felt neglected for the last 11 years. I had friends now. I knew all of the slang and street names for the various implements. I had already started selling my . . . er . . .talents . . . as a programmer to support my habit. I had already amassed a small posse of people whom I could indulge with. We traded secrets with each other: how to get it, who to buy it from, what accessories made the experience better. I knew the ins and outs of the Internet world. I knew all of the fastest, cheapest, best thrills there were to be had. I was totally immersed.

“When school started again, I was hardly in any shape to study. All I could think about was getting home and getting “jacked in” again. I didn’t notice anyone or anything. I would be too busy wondering if I could persuade Mr. Burke to let me use his computer lab for a while during lunch.

“After I had gotten pretty much settled into my new daily routine, I began pushing at school. People who had tried it a couple times but had had the will power to let it go were the easiest. I convinced them to meet me online a couple times and I would show them all of the wonderful places and friends I thought would interest them enough to keep them coming back for more.

“By this time, I’d already gotten myself established in my circle as LadyArtemis. Everyone I did “business” with, everyone I cared about at all called me LadyArtemis. I was a Net Goddess. I found myself at the top of our social order and enjoyed every minute of it. I was more than happy. I was Invincible!

“I was so blissed out that when the fall came, it was harder than anyone could have anticipated. My mom popped my bubble.

“She had been getting jealous of me for a while. She hated that I found so much pleasure in something she couldn’t even operate. She had gotten into one-sided arguments with me. I would usually mentally check out of these instances and let her rant and rave at the shell that was my physical body.

“One day she had a friend of hers come over. This friend, Laura, was an expert on this sort of thing, and supposedly knew how to deal with these types of problems. She tore my computer apart until she found everything my mom needed and had taught her how it all worked. After Laura had left, my mom had her first all-night fix.

“I was devastated. Not only did my mother now know about my precious little secret, she had started making it work for her. Now my mom horded the Internet. She dug herself a little niche with friends I did not know or care for. She would break all sorts of rules and ethics in her ruthless pursuit of her “sessions”. Any housework she had ever done was now forgone. While she pleased her own appetites with MY computer, I was made to take care of my little sister, Tai.

“Tai didn’t really care one way or another about the Internet or how much it was used, but she did mind my telling her what to do and my mother’s refusal to tuck her in. She and I struggled with each other to no end, only to be yelled at by Mommy, angry at having her session disturbed.

“Mom and I both grew more and more irratable. I would angrily criticize her for ignoring the needs of her family. She would lash out at me, threatening to totally cut off my supply. I began to lose contacts all over the place. She kept me inside while she played. I couldn’t even get to the library to get to meetings. I had to stop making appointments all together. She made sure she met all of her appointments, and slowly began to take my place on the net.

“I tried not to let it get to me. After all, I still got home first everyday by a couple hours. I still was able to get a slight fix before she came home and kicked me off, but it wasn’t the same. I was going through withdrawl. It wasn’t pretty. I was shaky and frightened about having to return to the pain that was my real life. The only thought that kept me going would be that my mom would get tired of her favorite form of Internetphoria: chat. I only hoped she would decide it was a sorry way to pass so many hours.

“It’s only gotten worse. It’s been more than a year now, and my mother is now a chat hostess. She helps and controls other people’s usage. I still can’t accept that I will never get my old life back. My mother and I hardly talk anymore. It’s so hard to live from day to day with this horrible NEED. At best, my appetite can only ever be whetted. When I ordered my class ring last month, I specified that one of my pridesides have “Artemis” inscribed over a picture of a computer. Who I am in that world is part of who I am when Im clean. My grades have slipped to an “A-“ average. I don’t know what to do anymore or where to turn to.

“Last week, I realized I needed some help. I just need to talk. I know I have to come through this somehow. They say the first step is admitting you have a problem. So Im admitting.

“My name is Kat . . . and Im an Internet junkie.”