quick note about the voiceover - my first few sentences are quieter and then I adjusted the mic, so don’t blow your eardrums out, wait until like :10 before adjusting.
On my birthday weekend, I was having a hard time, mentally + emotionally. Physically, too, probably. I had been messing up my anxiety meds dosage, not taking it regularly or at the correct time, and not really doing the things I know can help me, if I’m in a depressive or especially anxious place. That’s the catch-22 of all of that isn’t it, it’s like I KNOW what I could do to help myself but I’m too down to actually DO any of it, so I just exist in the pit until…until.
Anyway, I hadn’t been to therapy in a while either. And I was in my feels, having a bit of a pity party after my attempts to plan something for my bday all fell through for various reasons. At one point in my pit of despair, I was doom scrolling instagram, as one does, and I started feeling a little bit sick inside. It was like I could feel the scrolling scraping away at my brain and my contentedness with my self and my life. And in an extremely impulsive and dramatic moment, I removed the app from my phone.
I figured I’d spend my birthday weekend away from it, really try to focus on fun things we were able to do, and being with my boys [who had colored pictures and made me “special birthday creations,” one of which included a Duplo cake proclaiming I was 83, instead of 38, which really sent me].
The weekend passed, I got closer to regulating my meds, and I made some therapy appointments. And I still stayed away from Instagram. And the longer I stayed away, the better it felt. I started contemplating what exactly I wanted out of that app and the friends and acquaintances I interact with there. Very existential of me.
We watched a documentary series in the weeks leading to my birthday called Social Studies, about “a diverse group of LA teens who offer an intimate glimpse into how social media has reshaped childhood.” It was alarming, sad, eye-opening, interesting, thought-provoking, a little scary, and a tiny bit optimistic. I highly recommend it, especially for any of us who are raising the next generation of teens who will be on the internet, presumably.
Anyway, in the final episode, one of the girls is contemplating how much she hates social media but also feels like she can’t live without it. I think this is a common thought for maybe everyone who uses some form of it: we love it, we hate it, it’s rotting our brains, but it’s so easy and can also be fun. It’s the path of least resistance towards a lot of positive things, with a lot of negative side affects littering the path that inevitably sidetrack you from the positive thing you intended to pursue.
She said something about how, if she DID leave the app(s), she worried she’d be forgotten. That no one would remember she existed. And the way the documentarian posed it was very existential: she wonders if anyone would remember she existed, and really, would she even exist, if she wasn’t showing up on TikTok? Cue dramatic outro music
So as I spent more and more time NOT posting on instagram, at all, or even scrolling and liking and commenting, this thought kept invading my brain. What does it mean to exist without sharing the fun little mundanities of life on that app, and getting the little dope hits from a friend saying she liked my outfit, or a laugh emoji from an old college friend when I say something funny?
It’s been so long since we - I - lived in a world where these apps didn’t exist, it’s hard to remember. I was 18 when I got on the facebook for the first time, and I’ve been sharing random life shit online in some form or another ever since. [That was 20 years ago for those keeping track.]
Do I still care about and have fun with my outfits, if I’m not taking a selfie to get that passive feedback? We use to love to say “pic or it didn’t happen!” when posting, or when capturing the moment. Now in my mind, “pic or it didn’t happen” is a little heavier. “Pic or it didn’t happen” sort of feels like…if there’s no pic, it truly didn’t happen. Or it just didn’t count, or matter. It’s the age old tree-falling-in-the-woods-thing.
In some ways, sharing stuff online is a town-square. It’s the crossing of the town square in Stars Hollow, saying hello to everyone, checking in on people around you, seeing them at Luke’s and experiencing humanity. How am I doing this if I’m NOT doing it on insta? Am I still going to “know” or speak to that college friend if we aren’t lol-ing and girl-same-ing each other’s posts? Does it matter? Does she care? Do I care?
Now it’s September. School has started. I have almost fully closed down my web development business in favor of pursuing hobbies, laundry, flexing my privilege to “find myself” or whatever, and chit-chatting non-stop with the most pretentious 3-year-old ever created, on a daily basis. I haven’t posted or scrolled on insta since June. I check DMs, I’ve looked up specific people or friends, and I check my favorite tattoo artist’s last minute openings. And, I don’t know if I’ll ever “go back” and I don’t know if it matters at all, whether I do or not, whether I tell people about it or not. Like, truly, who cares? No seriously, who.
But also, I think we all care a little bit. What’s it like? Friends have asked me. How am I “doing” with it? With the break, without the mind-numbing-ness of it all. What do I do instead? How do I spend my time? What do I fill the void with?? I think some are hoping I’ll say I’m super fulfilled by knitting sweaters for my children instead. I think some are hoping I’ll say it’s made no difference and I’m still miserable and have replaced instagram with TikTok. I think some are hoping I’ll say it’s been super hard, that I can’t stay away.
The truth is a lot less dramatic. The truth is I don’t know. The truth is that it was super hard, but also not. The truth is I’ve noticed a huge difference, and everything is still the same. The truth is I’m still anxious, I still hate everything, I’m still depressed by the news, by flat-earthers, by people convinced that raw milk is cool, etcetera. Because even though I’m not shoveling all that garbage into my brain in bulk every day anymore, it’s all still out there and I still know about it all and all of it still impacts my mental health and it all still drives me to distraction and it all still makes me hate men and it all still makes me scared of what my kids will experience as they grow and be like when they’re grown.
See? EXISTENTIAL.
So. I don’t know. The end! What do you think?? Have any of you given up one or all apps? What’s it like? Do you exist? WE EXIST. Prove it by leaving a comment?? LOL.
kloveyoubyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeah
