Addiction

My name is Terrianne, and I am a cell phone addict.

(This is the part where you all say in unison, "Hi Terrianne.")

Not to make light of the topic of addiction. It is indeed a serious issue, one that I know all too well. I come from a family with a history of addiction. You need not look too far back in my genealogy to find a variety of struggles: from alcoholism to compulsive gambling, from overeating to tobacco addiction, you name it. The genetic link to addiction flows relentlessly through my veins, so much so that I decided years ago (like as a child) to steer completely clear of a few of the main culprits: alcohol, tobacco, and gambling. I mean why risk it, right? My structured eating and exercising regimen is an attempt to channel my fairly addictive personality to something that will yield positive rather than negative results.

At times I've wondered if I might be a shopping addict. I seriously love to shop. From clothes to shoes to groceries even, I get a total rush from the whole shopping experience. This is true even when I'm not shopping for myself. When I was Relief Society President (leader of the women's organization in our church), I regularly put together food orders for needy families in our ward. I discovered the exact same "high" while grocery shopping for them as when I shop for my own family. Of course the quintessential shopping experience can only happen in one place: Nordstrom. I tell my students that in their writing I had better see "verbs from Nordstrom!" meaning the loveliest, most stunning verbs imaginable...just like Nordstrom's clothes. Of course, my students look at me like I'm nuts because we don't have Nordstrom stores in Montana, so they have no idea what I'm talking about. That said, Gerald assures me that I'm not a shopping addict because shopping addicts buy clothes with money they don't have and consequently rack up hundreds or even thousands of dollars on credit cards. I most definitely don't do that.

However, last night I discovered that I am undeniably a cell phone addict. There is no longer any question about it. It was Eli's choir concert. Because my two middle boys have participated in the choir program at this high school for the past six years, and in all that time I've been a total deadbeat mom and not volunteered to help in any way, I decided it was now or never. Eli graduates in two months. When the choir teacher sent out an email asking for parents to sit in the band room and supervise kids during the performance, assuring us that we could go out into the audience to watch our own kids' performances live, I emailed her back and volunteered.

I arrived at 6:30 as requested and located the teacher for instructions. 1. Sit in the band room. 2. Make sure the kids sit quietly and watch the performance on the large TV screen when it is not their turn to be on stage. Easy? Absolutely. Then she gave one last instruction. No cell phones. Kids should not be talking on phones or texting or checking Facebook. Seriously? Seriously. Just then I noticed that I'd left my phone in the car. My natural impulse was to run out right away and retrieve it. My phone is seldom more than 10 feet away from me other than when I'm in class. But then I thought, "Really? Do I need to go get it? If the kids aren't supposed to use their phones, and I'm supposed to be supervising the kids, I probably shouldn't be using mine either." Surely I can go three waking hours without my phone.

And so I did. But it wasn't easy. It's not so much that I needed or even wanted to text someone. Or even check my email or Facebook. I didn't. What surprised me was the almost constant impulse to do so. In the three hours I was there, I must have reached for my phone at least 30 times. It seriously paralleled a smoker reaching for his pack of cigarettes. Now don't get me wrong. I probably won't do anything different as a result of this experience. I still love my phone and the many wonderful resources it provides me. But I'm here to admit straight up to you all...

My name is Terrianne, and I am a cell phone addict.