Hitting Rock Bottom
It was as if I was glued to my chair in front of the computer and nothing could entice me to leave it. And when I absolutely had to leave, i.e. to go home for dinner or the like, it was always with much reluctance, and I impatiently schemed how I could quickly return to the magic of the screen. Not surprisingly, this addiction came at a cost.
And then came Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year. At one point in the middle of davening, I paused to take stock of my ruchnius, or lack of same. I was overcome by a sudden surge of profound regret. I let my tears flow unabashedly as
I thought about my abysmal state. Would Hashem ever forgive me? By motzei Yom Kippur I felt cleansed. I experienced a measure of tranquility that had eluded me for months.
Today, I spend much of my time doing teshuvah and being mispallel that Hashem forgive me for all that I have wrought. But I know only too well that the decadence and indecency that I have imbibed will not soon dissipate and will always come back to haunt me. I no longer have a computer, but I do have a BlackBerry, albeit with a J-net filter.
Trust me. I know.