It’s a LOVE/HATE Relationship
I have a love/hate relationship with social media.
It’s true, many Wikipedia sites will say I am not a millennial. I was born in January of 1997–just a few weeks late, according to some fancy research centers. I, however, identify as a millennial–always have, always will. The other ironic part about this is that Generation Z probably wouldn’t even consider me part of their generation either. Anyways, kids born in the 90s are, without a doubt, a unique generation. 90s kids are also considered the "bridge generation," having experienced a childhood split between the analog (cassette tapes, playing outside) and the digital (early internet, gaming consoles) worlds. They developed high adaptability, transitioning from rotary phones to smartphones, and possessed a unique, pre-social media cultural nostalgia.
I remember playing hide-and-seek around the block with my friends in elementary school. My friend lived a block away from the school, and I lived three blocks away. I’d walk to his house without the need to announce it because I knew he’d be there in his backyard. We’d go down alleys and behind dumpsters to hide, or even in bushes. It was great.
I also remember watching movies at the end of the year in elementary school. The teachers would walk in with a tall rolling cart and a giant box TV on top. Just below the shelf where the TV stood was the VCR. I don’t think there was ever a time when the teachers knew how to plug them in, so a nice student would always walk up to the TV, connect the three colored VCR cables, and save the day.
I remember I got my first phone when I was in 6th grade. It was a blue Samsung slide-up phone, and you had to press the numbers multiple times to get the desired letter for a text. As the years went by, phones quickly became smarter. For example, the BlackBerry was known for having internet access, which meant you could check your emails. Then came the sidekick with apps, and I can’t forget the G1, which had the apps and was touch-screen. When high school came around, some kids were starting to use iPhones and Galaxy devices.
As I reflect on my time with the rapid growth of social media, I ask myself, at what point did social media become a problem for me? The answer is, I don’t know. I’ve had social media for half of my life and probably more to come. In the last 4 years, though, I’ve really struggled with doom scrolling. The first time I became aware that social media was becoming a big problem in my life was when I got very irritated by what I was seeing on my Facebook newsfeed, so I started unfriending people. That only helped temporarily. It was so hard to avoid the negative content, so I deleted the app, and that felt so refreshing. At this point, I don’t recall feeling like doomscrolling was a problem; it wouldn’t have been that easy to delete the app. That left me with Snapchat and Instagram. Over the life of these apps, they’ve become more addictive than ever before, and I was feeling the intensity. My life really started to get busy when I decided to move into a new home, start a master’s program, have a full-time job, and still juggle my daily responsibilities of cooking, cleaning, homework, being a mother, and a fiancé. How did I even have time to get on social media? Trust me, I found time between meals, homework breaks, in the bathroom, while cleaning, and even while waiting for my laptop to turn on. If I had to wait for anything at all, I would take out my phone to doomscroll wherever and whenever. But then it got to a point where things weren’t getting done. I was pushing homework off to the last minute, dinner was done late at night, cleaning the house wasn’t a priority, and spending time with my family was in the presence of my phone. The guilt would hit me after a two-hour scrolling session. I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and disappointed. It took me some time to realize what doomscrolling was doing to me, and I deleted Instagram next. Snapchat was the last man standing, but then it launched ‘Spotlight’, where people could upload their stories so everyone around the world could see, very similar to the Instagram newsfeed. We were back to square one, where I'd pop open the app as I did anything throughout my day–even at work.
I haven’t been able to get rid of all my social media platforms at once because, in reality, social media keeps you connected and is a great form of entertainment. I get inspiration from others and love to learn what others are doing. I now only have a Facebook Messenger app–no Instagram or Snapchat. I’m not perfect though, I still go on my newsfeed through the messenger app but, I feel like I’ve decreased my screen time a little bit. Deep down, I know I don’t need it, and it’s better not to have it for a long, happy life. I want to experience the real world, learn through my own trial and error, and put in more effort into using my own imagination. So, for those who want that too, here are some changes I’ve had to make to keep my screen time as low as possible.
Here are some tips that help me get through the phases of doomscrolling:
Delete the apps! (I swear it doesn’t even hurt to do it)
Remind yourself what your long-term goals are to keep you focused on what needs to be prioritized on the day to day life
Ask a loved one to keep you accountable
Monitor your screen time on your phone settings (perception vs reality–we “think” we’re not on our phones a lot until we see the actual numbers)
Remember that real-life experiences are 100x better
Schedule time with loved ones
Have a book by your nightstand
Set a specific time of the day when you are allowed, guilt-free, to be on your phone
Set time limits on the apps (some apps give you access on the settings–less effective over time)
Leave your phone in another room while you’re doing important things
Watch/listen to podcasts instead(my new favorite)
I grew up with social media, but I also knew life before it, and that’s a privilege I will never take for granted. Today, I am on and off with social media–sometimes I have it, sometimes I delete it, like a love/hate relationship.
Written by: Ms. Ramirez, a Chicago native in her 20s.