Search results ({{ res.total }}):

Yechezkel's Story

Thursday, 15 December 2011
Part 2/5 (to see other parts of the article, click on the pages at the bottom)

Year after year, resolutions came and went in Elul, year after year I wept through T'fillas Zakoh and klapped the al cheits with every intention to make the coming year one that removed me from the world of the traps that lay in wait at the end of my fingertips as I typed addresses in my browser. But year after year, the temptations were too great, too tantalizing to refuse. I had to feed my addiction, I had to nurture my lust and satiate my appetite for everything that is immoral. It wasn't long before those good intentions and resolutions were lying discarded in the garbage.

Life events and simchas came and went with me posing as the perfect family member and mentch, whilst in essence I was putting on a show. I was putting on a show that I had perfected over the years - that of total fakery and deception. After all, how would anyone ever find out? How would anyone know? Why did they need to know anyway? What difference did it make to them anyway? I rolled through my life watching the world go round and making excuses to myself on how to justify my actions, thus allowing me to somehow have a clear conscience of what I was doing - I guess this is one of the hallmarks of an addict.

This is not the platform with which to describe how the internet is the perfect tool of being able to realize one's fantasies behind a screen of total anonymity. The purpose of this script is both for me to read back and draw strength from, as well as for others to read and maybe relate to.

Why now? Why did I do this life and soul saving action of allowing my internet activity to become accountable to a third party? I would compare it to that of a smoker that wants to stop but simply finds the habit and addiction to powerful to take the plunge. On many occasions I made inroads in downloading the software but never took the final most telling step. I always bottled it at the final hurdle. Then one day a couple of months ago, right after the Yomim Nora'im, I was about to revert to my usual weak self when I witnessed a terrible accident in Jerusalem. I was due to catch an early morning bus to take me to work, but I missed it because an elderly Yid asked me to help him with his large suitcases. I sat on the bench next to a cute toddler and his parents and busied myself on my Blackberry whilst I awaited my next bus. Then, in a flash, the child ran into the road and was hit by a large truck head on. He flew into the air and hit the ground with a sickening thud. It was clear that he had been killed instantly. His parent's cries were heartbreaking. Hatzala just took one look at him and covered his head with a blanket. Everyone there was in total shock. I had never witnessed anything of this nature before. It was a scene that I wouldn't wish on anyone to have to witness; a young cute child being killed in front of his dear parents very eyes. A tender neshomoh that surely had so much potential to fill - and now extinguished just like that.

So there I was, mouth agape, clutching my Blackberry and briefcase almost in a trance. Why did I have to witness this? Why did I have to miss my bus? Why did the old yid ask me to help him when there were so many others on the street he could have asked?

I decided that all this was for a reason. It just had to be.

Single page