Early & Alone #64: Scrolling, Scrolling, Scrolling
I can’t pinpoint a particular event or feeling that caused me to finally do what I’ve been thinking of doing for a long time, but I did it, about two weeks ago—I deleted Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok from my phone.
I did not delete my accounts. I can still check in on my computers. But taking the apps off of my phone has so far done what I’d hoped it would do—it cuts down on my impulse to pick up my phone every time my mind wanders for about a fraction of a second. Once my phone was in my hands, I’d mindlessly open an app and scroll, scroll, scroll until I got distracted by something else or would have to shake myself out of it, like a dream. Entire chunks of time would pass this way, me just staring vacantly into that black rectangle, looking for something I could never quite find. Validation? Entertainment? Enlightenment?
I am not anti-social media. I have sometimes experienced real moments of joy and laughter and even connection via these same apps I’ve now jettisoned. I still think that is possible. But I can no longer trust my attention span to remain focused enough to be able to know when to stop. Maybe it’s the state of the world or getting older or just becoming accustomed to a constant stream of information, but I find I am very rarely able to focus on any one thing for longer than a few minutes. There are times I’d find myself in front of the TV, laptop open, scrolling on my phone. There is no way I was actually paying good attention to any one of those screens. That is just too many screens.
I’m happy, and sort of shocked, to report that I haven’t really missed having those apps on my phone. I have been checking Insta about once a day on my computer, just spending a couple of minutes looking at friends’ posts, and Twitter for a few minutes. My plan is to re-download Instagram one day each month to post any photos I want to share, then delete it again. I’m not gone forever—kind of like a visitor rather than a permanent resident.
This is not a foolproof plan, of course. Just today I took a peek at Instagram on my laptop, saw some posts that made me feel bad, and have been sort of dwelling on them all afternoon. Why? Rationally, I know that none of this matters. I have a full life whether it’s documented on Instagram or not, whether I have a certain number of followers on Twitter or not. But just because I’m no longer spending hours each day scrolling particular apps, it doesn’t mean that I’ve trained my brain to divorce itself from that pattern of attentions-seeking and validation that drove my addiction in the first place.
Similarly, I’ve been floundering for awhile with this newsletter, wondering exactly what it’s for, if anything. I started it as a way to try to write about navigating life while being single at a certain age, but that doesn’t feel quite true anymore, since I’ve been dating someone for a while now. I’m still unmarried, child free, living alone, financially independent, divorced—there are still a lot of things to figure out on my own. But what am I writing about and who am I writing for? These are questions that pertain to writing in general, for me—I also recognize that they’re normal doubts and don’t mean my writing doesn’t have value or purpose. One of you reaches out nearly every time I send out an issue, telling me that it resonated with you, and that does have value.
It’s all related, this tangle of questions about seeing and being seen online, of having some kind of online presence or audience. It’s possible to have a rich life outside the confines of the internet, but is it possible if you’re a writer, trying to build an audience, however slowly and uncertainly, without any real strategy or plan? Is the cycle of guilt over not writing, stress of writing, then the feeling of shouting my vulnerabilities into the void really worthwhile or helpful? Am I just trying to hang onto some identity as a “writer” without doing the hard work of…actually writing complete work and sending it into the world?
It’s Monday morning and the world feels like a dark place more and more. Maybe it’s enough that the writing is a kind of anchor, something steady to hold on to as I try to figure everything else out. It’s all a work in progress. I wish you all a good week of popsicles and porch time and laughs with friends and petting dogs—the real good stuff.
Bright Spots
The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent is ridiculous but in all the best ways. It will make you fall in love with Nicholas Cage if you aren’t already and love him even more if you already do. It kind of falls apart at the end, but the ride is worth it.
This profile of Adriene Mishler’s (of Yoga with Adriene) dog, Benji, is a year old, but I loved it so much. You can’t beat this opening line, “Benji has the square, earnest jaw of a high school quarterback who’s about to win state.” C’mon. That’s just good writing.
Similarly, I was totally delighted by The American Rescue Dog Show, a cheesy send-up of Westminster-style dog shows featuring rescue dogs that have been adopted and compete in categories like “best underbite” and “best ears” (Gizmo would take that category if he were competing). It’s streaming on Hulu and while there are way too many commercials, it’s adorable.
I finished watching the final season of Insecure and I’m so sad it’s over! If you haven’t watched it, I highly recommend. It’s hilarious and heartfelt and a really great depiction of friendship and growing into yourself.
I also finally watched the first season of Only Murders in the Building and was very entertained. Give me anything with Steve Martin and I will be happy.
A podcast rec: You Are Good, hosted by Sarah Marshall from You’re Wrong About and Alex Steed, is a “feelings podcast about movies” and I love it.