Before I start this article, I have to admit something. I love my phone as much as the next person. I love posting silly little Instagram dumps, I love texting and calling my family that lives two hours away, I love capturing memories that otherwise might’ve been lost to time, and I love the way I use my phone. Don’t start throwing tomatoes and calling me a hypocrite yet, because I hate the way I simply can’t LIVE without my phone. I had a five-hour shift at work last week wearing trousers with no pockets, and I almost kissed my phone when I saw it again. The thought of sitting and working on something (like this article) without having phone breaks makes me extremely uncomfortable. Hell, I JUST had a phone break after writing less than 200 words. Our lives are so consumed by the digital world because we have become increasingly and painstakingly dependent on technology. Horrifying.
Please understand that I’m in no way against technology. Though there is a certain romantic attraction to it, I’m not going to go to the woods, live off the grid, and start writing handwritten letters to my friends. However, there’s something that feels off about the way we’ve become infatuated with our phones. Like, when did it become okay for my phone to dictate my daily routine more so than me? As scary as it sounds, I think I utilise my phone more often than my own brain…
Brain rotting
Imagine this: I’m snug in bed, anticipating a restful night’s sleep because, well, self-care. But hold on, my phone says, “Just one more scroll, babe”. Abruptly, it’s 2 AM, and I’ve been lost in a maze of TikToks featuring people ranking their soup preferences. Before, I had no interest in soup at all! Why am I still scrolling? And why does soup hold so much emotional value over me?
Worst of all, I KNOW it’s unhealthy for me. It’s similar to dating someone who is obviously bad for you, but is still fun. Although they are using up all of your energy, you cannot resist them. You rationalise it by saying things like, “Well, at least they’re funny sometimes”, or, “I’ve learnt a lot from them”, which is really just code for, let’s be honest, “I’ve watched three hours of YouTube conspiracy documentaries”, and “I have no self-control”.
To be honest, my phone has started to feel like that annoying friend you can’t get rid of. Where is it? Is it still at home? Is the battery dead? Is it forever lost? I don’t need to be five feet away from my phone to have separation anxiety. My brain, which is truly the hero in this situation, is attempting to remind me of the times when I lived without a smartphone. Do you remember those times? Neither. My phone has become an extension of my body at this point. God forbid I’m unavailable for ten minutes.Â
social media
Ah, and how could I forget the toxic posts we see on social media? Where do I even start? First, the unrealistic expectations about bodies, everyone’s bodies whether that be a man, woman, non-binary person, or trans person; no matter who you are or how you identify, the body standards creep into all of us. We’re all out here wondering why we don’t appear like we just rolled off a Vogue cover after eating breakfast, thanks to perfectly lit, photoshopped, and filtered pictures we see online. It seems as though there is an unspoken norm that demands you to be faultlessly perfect all the time. I just don’t want my eye bags to hit my chin, whilst Instagram is busy making fun of me for not having rock-solid abs. It’s exhausting.Â
Then there’s cyberbullying, the shadowy side of social media that is acknowledged but not often spoken about. It seems as though when one is in front of a screen, one loses all basic human decency. Cyberbullying has produced a toxic climate online where people criticise each other for seemingly insignificant things like appearances or personal preferences, whether it be through trolls posting hurtful remarks or people tearing apart every detail of someone else’s life. Look at Instagram Reels, the videos are one thing, but the comments are utterly disgusting. The worst aspect, too? It occurs frequently and rarely has any repercussions.
Not to mention the infatuation with continuous comparison. We deceive ourselves into believing that what we see on social media is real, but it’s really just a highlight reel. We contrast our everyday life, with its pyjamas and bad hair days, with other people’s picture-perfect vacations or their “just bought a house at 25” flex. We all filter out the chaos and only display our best parts, giving the impression that if you aren’t always achieving, you are falling behind or unworthy.
These are simply a few instances of the many poisonous elements that infiltrate social media and creep into our everyday lives. Thoughtlessly, we go there expecting to have fun, yet occasionally it feels like we’ve entered a psychological minefield.
what do I do now?
Look, this article isn’t intended to be a lecture. I’m not here to tell you to give up on technology and live a simpler, no-tech existence by tossing your phone into the sea. In fact, I’m admitting defeat. I’m recognising that this thing has more control over me than I’d want to acknowledge. This may be the first step, after all. Identifying the issue. It’s similar to therapy, only my therapist is a luminous screen that gives me notifications and memes in place of advice.
So here I am, still typing away, waiting, whilst my phone sits next to me and watches. It anticipates my return. Probably, before I even finish writing this article, I’ll check it. It’s alright. Everything is alright. Even with all the toxicity and expectations, everything is definitely alright. But perhaps I should try to distance myself from this unhealthy relationship even more tomorrow. Yes, distance… where did I leave my phone again?