I have PCSD. (Post Computer Stress Disorder) I am in solid recovery now, but it is being threatened by the looming DK4 transition: already I have suffered flashbacks I thought were far behind me. My therapist has suggested it might be useful for me to share my story, and ask for support. (snark) It's not a pretty tale, but the brave can follow below the fold.
I've been a writer since I got my first pencil and Red Chief Tablet, 66 years ago or so. Writing has been my comfort, my joy, and my sanity. I could give up breathing easier than I could give up writing.
I was so happy to get my hands on my first Underwood manual typewriter, in 6th grade. I loved that machine with all my heart and soul. I understood it. I knew how it worked, and it never failed me, ever. We were one, for better or worse, in sickness or in health, till death did us part.
Then they gave me an electric typewriter for a graduation gift. I stared at it in abject horror: how could I tell them I not only didn't want it, it scared the heck out of me. How could I trust a machine that was absolutely useless if the power went out? What if it broke and I didn't know how to fix it? Would I get a shock if I did something wrong? And oh how I missed the solid punch of the keys on my old Underwood.
In time, of course, I came to see it's advantages and the old Underwood soon took up residence on the top shelf of my closet: an ever faithful friend who would always be there if the power went out in the midst of a creative surge.
When I first heard about the new machines they called word processors, I really like the idea of being able to erase mistakes on a little screen, instead of with white out and retyping. But oh my, were they ever scary. It took me six separate visits to the store, and hours of help from a friendly salesperson, to dare say yes to one. The learning curve was long and hard for me: I had trouble grasping the idea that the words could disappear from the screen, yet still exist in some invisible cave buried deep in it's innards. Trust did not come easily. The first time I was able to retrieve a document, it was like seeing a burning bush.
It was a long courtship with many rough spots, but in time, I fell in love with my word processor. This was it. I'd found my new life partner. I sold my electric typewriter, but kept my Underwood, in case of power outages.
As for computers, well, I had drawn my line in the sand, and wanting NOTHING to do with them, EVER. Talk about frightening! I watched some folks at work using them and it was amply clear to me that I did not have a brain wired to even begin to understand these things. Over and over again, I'd hear howls of distress when others in the office lost their documents, or the machines quit working just as deadlines approached. I couldn't begin to understand the strange language they computer people used. It sounded like English, but made no sense to me at all.
Then came the horrible horrible no good terrible day when my boss came in and said: "IT IS TIME! You MUST learn how to use the computers, or I cannot keep you on staff here! The others will help you!"
I had my first computer nightmare that very night. I was sitting at a computer with my hands on the keyboard. I looked down to see that the tips of all ten fingers had disappeared into the keyboard, then the rest of my fingers, then my hands, then my arms..I was being DEVOURED! THE COMPUTER WAS ABSORBING ME! I could see all the bits and pieces of me swirling around on the screen, totally disconnected from each other..
Hell began in earnest the next day. There were three computers, each one operated completely differently from the other, and I had to use whichever was was available for my reports. And every single person who tried to help me told me different things about how to make them work. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. Developed high blood pressure. Had chest pains. Life became a waking nightmare.
I finally learned how to operate one of the machine well enough to do my reports on it, but everyone liked that machine, and it was never available during working hours. For months I snuck late at night to get my own work done. So went my introduction to the computer age.
Several years later, I bought my own 386 and named him Oscar. Oscar was much friendlier, and although it took me forever, eventually we became engaged. By then, I was out of permanent disability (spine injury), and pretty lonely. My daughter told me about the internet..and how much she thought I'd enjoy it. But Oscar would have to go: I needed a machine that had "windows" and could connect to the internet.
She helped me set up my new machine and tried to explain the concept of windows to me.
Here's what I knew about windows. They were things you looked out of, washed regularly, opened when it was warm, closed when it was cold. They were stationary: they did not move. You could only look out one of them at a time.
I don't know how to explain the cognitive dissonance I experienced in trying to let go of that concept of windows so I could even begin to grasp the computer worlds definition of windows. I know it hurt my head. A lot. My brain felt like it was being stretched and twisted like taffy at a taffy pull.
Other frightening things also happened once I was connected to the internet. One day this window thing popped up out of nowhere, and someone began typing a message to me!! WTF? It was a woman who said she'd seen me in a lesbian chatroom. She wanted to know if I wanted to "cyber". ????? I figured that must mean "talk" in computer speak, so I said sure, why not? She ever offered to send me her picture! Wow. I didn't know one could do that! In a few minute..this picture showed up, slowing revealing a totally naked girl engaged in (clearly!) pleasurable solo acts. I knocked my chair over getting away from that screen, and ran right out the door!
I've come a long way since those early days, when I had to leave my computer on for weeks, because never in a million years would I have figured out on my own that if you wanted to turn the damned thing OFF, you had to push START! See what I mean? There are things people who are raised with this technology just "know" and have always "known", and often cannot fathom anyone else NOT KNOWING.
Entering the world of computer technology after age 50 is one of the most difficult things I have ever had to learn to even get to the beginner stages I am still at. And it has been worth it, big time, because it opened up the whole world for me to explore. My life has been so enriched by this, I cannot begin to tell you how much.
But I will not apologize to anyone for being somewhat freaked out by DK4.It's resurrected the old fears of inadequacy that gave me nightmares years ago, because no matter how much sense it may make to others, or how easy it may be for others, it is not so for me. Because I do not want to lose track of the people here I have come to know and enjoy, I am willing to have a few flashbacks and sweat my way along till I "get it", and I am sure I will in time. BTW, thanks Kelly, for the "Cranky Users" group!
Meanwhile, I can still go to my closet now and then to visit my Underwood, confident that if all else fails, I will always have a way to write, even if all my fingers don't work so well anymore!
And so we go "ONward!"
(and thanks for the rescue!)