a parental rant

Every once in a while, my parents go on an over-protective surge and start limiting and micro-managing my technology use, claiming I abuse it. They kidnap my phone past 9 PM and tell me I can't go on Facebook during the week, basically cutting off my social connections.

This is going to make me sound insanely spoiled, but sometimes usually having my technology taken away from me gives me an aniexty attack. I use Facebook and my cell phone to talk to my friends. If I do not talk to my friends, I turn into a vicious and angry bear-like creature. If you think I'm kidding, ask my siblings. When I don't talk to my friends--and if my phone gets taken away, I can't, period, because realistically, high schoolers can't afford to talk freely until at least 10 PM--I honestly go crazy. I cannot handle life without my friends, which, sadly, has evolved into I cannot handle life without technology.

Trust me, I feel awful for saying such a thing when those poor babies in Haiti don't have clean clothes and thousands of people in Africa die from AIDS every day. Honest, I do. I am fully aware I can survive without Facebook and such...I'm just not sure I can thrive, because my friends are such a vital part of my mental health.

My arguments go something like this...

No Technology =
~miserable me
~emotionally unstable me
~stressed me

Technology =
~slightly tired me
~happy me
~calm me
~mentally healthy me

But see, the great part about being a teenager is that your parents do. not. understand. Apparently, as long as I'm sleeping before 10 PM, it really doesn't matter how miserable I am. It would be different if I were a terrible student, or if my constant texting or Facebooking or Skyping were costing them tons of money. But I have all A's and B's, we have unlimited texting and Facebook and Skype are free.

Hence, my frustration. My parents limit my social connections and my mother hates technology because she understands so little about it. Facebook isn't evil, and I'm not going to hell because I'm a constant texter. I think it's much more likely I'll go to hell for commiting some hideous crime becaue I went crazy because I coudn't vent, laugh or plain talk to my friends. I realize this is admirable rationalization of spoiled, suburban bad behavior, but I don't really care so much right now.

 I'm fifteen, I'm supposed to be selfish, aren't I?