Claustrophobia in Cyber Space

I’m claustrophobic I think. Although it’s not so much small spaces as being unable to move. Perhaps there’s another word for it. The tube is a good example. It’s not exactly tiny, but you are completely incapacitated. My phobia manifests itself differently from others. I’m not afraid. I don’t break into panics and weep and think I’m dying. I become enraged and wish death on everything. When I was young this kid pinned me to the ground while another kid gave me dead legs and arms. I couldn’t move. I squirmed, I wriggled, I howled, I bit a chunk out of the kid’s leg, I stood as he rolled about the place screaming and banged my head off the wall, I cried out of uncontrollable frustration, I threw up every profanity I could think of.

Why do they push me? The global internet. The world wide web. A vast expanse of knowledge and some fucks just have to push me. Just won’t let me leave. Why do they do that? Why can’t I use the back function in their fucking sites? Don’t they know? Don’t they realise the rage boiling in me every time I click the back button and am greeted only with the same page? I’m trapped. I’m caged. My hands are sore from the claws I make with them. I just want to get out!

And when I click the X I am left with a residual pop up reminding me. Like a scar from a knife wound, or my teeth marks in a regretful adult’s deformed thigh.