As smartphone addiction creeps into bedrooms all over the country, it's clear that we need to make a conscious effort to disconnect. A nationwide epidemic of sleep deprivation, smartphone hangovers that sap our productivity, and an inability to switch off from work and relax, are all sure signs that our dependence on the smartphone has gone too far.
We don't intend to drink two bottles of wine when we specifically said we were only going to have one glass. That I would call weak-willed. Falling into the world-wide-web I would label as procrastination. And when we say we have learned our lesson and will never date someone 'like that' again, we genuinely mean it.
Professional wrestling is a colourful, jolly and light-hearted form of entertainment. We become personally invested in the trials and tribulations of our on-screen heroes (and villains) who shoulder the burden of iconic status for many people across the world. It is perhaps therefore no wonder that news of depression, addiction and death are particularly shocking for wrestling fans.
As I hit my late twenties, I was spending as much time as a non-smoker as I was a smoker. I would wean myself off, stay off for a while (once even an entire year) then suddenly that feeling of missing a vital part of my identity would over-ride logic (usually following a glass of wine or four) and before you know it - bam.
Companies design for planned obsolescence - so that products breakdown forcing us to buy more and more often. But it was us that created psychological obsolescence. We want the newest, shiniest whatever the second it is available regardless of whether the slightly older, slightly less shiny thing is still working perfectly or is in no way demonstrably inferior.
I make no secret of the fact that I don't like addiction counsellors. The methods they work from are totally outdated. They are obsessed with dragging up the past instead of focusing on the present... most of all I dislike them because an addiction counsellor is a role undertaken by people who leave Rehab and don't know what to do with their lives.
I used to be addicted to busyness. I could not sit still for longer than five minutes without feeling the urgent need to be doing something productive. There was always something drawing my attention for me to work on. I was unaware that I had made busyness the purpose of my life. In all of my busyness I forgot to look after myself.
I was eight years old when I accidentally walked in on my mum injecting heroin in the kitchen. I'll never forget the confused look on her face - the warm embrace of the opiates blunted any acute feelings shame and panic, leaving her with an ugly, dumbfounded grimace. Luckily, this episode was the turning point in both our lives...