Scrolling Sobriety: Part II

Illustrated by Chloe Blair McMullen

Varenya Shrikant, a 22-year old from Chicago who regularly spends several hours a day on her phone, recently decided that she had had enough of the endless scrolling and digital stimulation. She embarked on an experiment to consciously avoid social media applications for a week…and track how she felt about it along the way.

The rules were simple:

1. No use of TikTok
2. No use of Instagram
3. No use of Twitter
4. No YouTube videos

What follows are her journal entries from days 4 and 5 of the digital detox. 

To read about the initial three days, check out Part I. 

And to read about the final days of the detox, check out Part III.

Saturday: Selfie Game Too Strong

Illustrated by Chloe Blair McMullen

1:42 pm: I just spent the last few hours writing a short story, which is something I haven’t done in years! My creativity has been at an all-time high, and I’m practically giddy.

3:30 pm: One of my best friends is flying in from out of town tonight, and I’m hosting her for a week. Shamefully, part of me desperately wants to document anything and everything we do this weekend…and post about it, of course. I feel like this is the true test of social media and self-control. Call me shallow, but when I’m having fun, I like to show off that I’m having fun. 

10:16 pm: I’m doing it, I’m breaking the detox. My friend and I are getting ready to go out for the night, and she won’t be able to visit Chicago again anytime soon, and we just look too good not to post a picture…haha okayyy, love you, byeee.

10:25 pm: So I just re-downloaded Instagram, snapped about 20 selfies to get the perfect one, and hit “post”. Sue me. 

10:49 pm: The vanity metrics (“so-and-so liked your story”) are rolling in, but I honestly feel gross for slipping up on my detox. 

11:15 pm: Now that I’d re-downloaded Instagram, I decided to just full-send it and quickly scroll through for any posts from friends that I’ve missed. I only spent a couple of minutes scrolling, but I actually hated every second. It felt overwhelming and stressful to be connected to the rest of the world again in the sort of hyper-engaging, un-nuanced, bombardment-style way Instagram does, so I’m deleting the app one final time. My post is still up, but at least I’ll keep away from the validation of notifications all night.

If a tree falls in the forest and no one posts it on their story, did it really happen? 

On some level, I understand it. Humans are social creatures. Connection is at the core of our biology, and what better way to connect today than to click a few buttons and share our every experience with the world? There’s something beautiful about our need to share, but I do feel like social media has desecrated that beauty. No longer are we just sharing powerful, positive, good things with the world -- we’re sharing everything. Our anger, our frustration, our sadness. We feel like everyone must know every part of our lives.

Moreover, we share to keep up appearances. We share to paint well-rounded personas of ourselves online -- only the best pictures, the wittiest tweets. It’s human nature to want to feel appreciated and accepted, and social media has made it easy to quantify just how appreciated and accepted we are. I’m shocked at how contingent my self-worth is on how many people know that I’m having fun and enjoying life. What’s more surprising, though, is just how guilty I felt about breaking my detox. I’m resolving not to do it again.

Sunday: Camera Eats First?

Illustrated by Chloe Blair McMullen

8:36 am: My friend and I have come to Wicker Park bright and early to eat the infamous Filipino breakfast at Kasama (the first Filipino restaurant in the world to receive a Michelin star!). 

It’s impossible to get reservations here, so we’ve been standing in a first-come-first-served line for over 2 hours. I'm itching to open TikTok and make a vlog, or at least post about how long this line is on Snapchat. It almost makes the experience less worth it knowing that I can't vent/brag to anyone about it.  

Something notable is happening, and just one person knowing is not enough!

10:51 am: We've finally been seated at the restaurant and everything looks so good. I can't believe that I’m not allowed to post any of these food magazine-worthy pictures I’m snapping. I've settled for Whatsapping my mom a video of me biting into my breakfast sandwich (which, by the way, was phenomenal). 

3:35 pm: My mom has finally responded to my video, with an anticlimactic thumbs-up emoji. Not quite the reaction I was looking for (or would have received if I’d posted on Instagram instead), but it doesn’t irk me too much. My meal was still incredible, regardless of who does or doesn’t know about it. Is this… growth? 

5:21 pm: I’ve been texting back and forth with a friend from college. I mentioned my detox to her, and she immediately called me out on the fact that I posted on my Instagram story last night. Once I told her that I was planning to publish my experience, she said: “Really? I mean, it’s just a week without social media, not some insane trek up a mountain.” 

Today ended with many questions and feelings. The comment from my college friend was sobering -- it made me wonder whether this detox is really as big a deal as I’m making it out to be. Should it be some amazing accomplishment to stay off social media for a week? Is this silly? Will other people think I’m silly? I feel frustrated. 

Social media should be something I use on my own terms, something I control -- not the other way around. The fact that I needed to take a break from using it in order to better the quality of my own life is actually a jarring realization. 

I never want to be so powerless against social media again. I no longer want to be wasting hours of my day scrolling through other people’s lives when I could be living my own to a much fuller degree. 

The final entries of Varenya's digital detox journey are published in Part III.

You can read about the beginning of the detox in Part I.

Opinions expressed are solely the author’s own and do not reflect the views of their employer.