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THE SAD AND SORRY TALE OF A SCI FI JUNKIE by KAROL STEELE

From the very beginning I always thought that I could handle it.

It started innocently enough, in the playground at school, when all my friends dared me to try Doctor Who. And I was always cool with it - unlike my friends, I took my Doctor Who from on the sofa and not from behind it. I was just five years old.

I was still in control though; okay, I did the occasional Lost in Space, or Land of the Giants, or Time Tunnel, but I could take them or leave them. I even used to sneak a peak at The Avengers — I know it was for grown-ups, but that made it even more interesting. Still, it was no big deal. Then along came Star Trek, and I still thought I could handle it. If only I had known what I do today ... but what did I know? I was only seven!

Cruelly, after only three years, Star Trek was snatched away from me, from all of us; but then new crazes swept through the playground. Kids everywhere were trying to jaunt or were linking hands in an attempt to communicate telepathically, or even crawling around on their hands and knees looking for time holes. We were Tomorrow People or Timeslippers. And these programmes were ours, made for our teatime viewing, made especially for kids. Those bastards! What havoc they were playing with our fragile young minds!

But the playground madness didn't stop there, soon we were all attempting to run in slow motion or jump onto impossibly high walls, as The Six Million Dollar Man took hold. Not just science fiction, but science and fiction, a deadly combination. And more of the same combo came with Doomwatch, which was also the origin of my first pre-teen crush. Ahh, Toby, how I cried when you died diffusing that bomb.

For a while I was saved when my parents sent me to an all-girls school. David Cassidy, Marc Bolan and Donny Osmond took all my attention and bedroom wall space; but the makers of sci fi had another trick up their sleeves. Along came the Bionic Woman, and we were all in agonies over her relationship with the Bionic Man. We were introduced to the addictive qualities of 'shipping' in sci fi, and I was lost - damn my pubescent hormones.

Still thinking I was in control, I went looking for my sci fi where ever I could - I found it in the big screen with Star Wars and the Star Trek movies; television provided me with Blake's 7, Sapphire and Steel, and Survivors; radio gave me The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Galaxy, The Lord of the Rings, and Earthsearch. Seven years of grammar schooling was lost in a sci fi haze, forcing me in only one direction - a science degree.

University only provided fuel to the fire - I discover the Sci Fi club. I had never imagined that there could be clubs for my particular vice; but all the time I was at these meetings I would look at those around me and convince myself that I wasn't like them. I was cool with it, I was still in control. I definitely wasn't a geek, despite what the humanities students might have said.

The eighties was a golden time for me - slipping off to the cinema to watch countless sci fi movies, giving me a solid 2 hour hit at a time. I even found myself indulging in a little horror and fantasy here and there. I still thought it was no biggie. Then I started to notice something: the first thing I would move into my boyfriends' homes was my collection of sci fi videos. No wonder most of my relationships never lasted.

I tried to stop; cold turkey didn't work, so I hunted around for substitutes: I tried soaps, sit coms, rom coms and medical dramas. One in particular caught me, and I found myself doing ER - what a rush that was. But sci fi wasn't far away; a friend introduced me to The X-Files and then B5, and I discovered a whole new high. This wasn't sci fi that you could take or leave as you pleased, but you had to have it week after week; a continuing storyline to keep you hooked. It was sheer Machiavellian genius. And the more you had, the more you wanted it.

From that point on I found myself doing sci fi and fantasy whenever I could. Buffy and Angel were good for a lightweight hit; I even tried some of the designer sci fi that came out of America, like SG1, but the hit was hollow and unsatisfying and too much like the sci fi of my youth. At this point I could have still been rescued, especially when B5 came to an end, but my doom was not far away.

Farscape hit the streets and I was lost forever. Everything I had ever been searching for in my sci fi I found in Farscape. It was sci fi perfection. The highs were high, the lows were high too; it affected my intellect, my emotions; it stimulated all parts of my mind.

But I couldn't keep it to myself; it was far too good, I needed other people to know about it, so that we could talk about it, live it, share it. To my shame I became a dealer, handing out videos to others, hoping that they too would become lost in the Farscape world. Then the worst thing imaginable, Farscape was finally banned, taken away after one last, glorious burst of vitality.

And what has my life been reduced to? Pathetically hunting through the TV schedules for a replacement; buying all the sci fi magazines every month; or searching the web for news about up-and-coming shows. A little Hex here, a 4400 there. And when I do find them, I have to share - I still deal in tapes with other poor addicts like myself, and then spend hours discussing the shows with them.

I have found BSG to replace Farscape; and though it's good, it's a different hit. I also have Huff - a little American comedy-drama with just enough fantasy elements to keep me sane;and Desperate Housewives - which just about sums me up!

I realise now that there's no hope for me; I will forever be a sci fi junkie, hoping one day to recreate that ultimate high. Mine is a sad and sorry tale.