I’m taking a break from social media. My mental health-specifically my relationship to anxiety-is suffering.
I have what many people would consider a healthy relationship with social media. The only app I have on my phone is Instagram. I don’t go there to shame myself, compare myself, or look at unsavory things. I visit seeking inspiration and understanding. At it’s best, social media is a tool. When I’m not in my best health, that tool becomes a wedge. It turns into a vortex of avoidance. Reaching for my phone and scrolling the feed or tapping through other’s stories becomes a way for me to ignore what is troubling me. When done in moderation, and when I give my feelings, troubles or stresses appropriate attention later—it’s fine. But if I don’t listen to the whispers reminding me to pay attention, to be present, to feel what is difficult, the build up becomes toxic. Ignoring never works forever. The house (my mental health) always wins in this gamble for my attention.
What does that look like? It starts with an inability to keep focus. I’ll walk into a room and forget why I’m there. My thoughts are coming in such rapid succession that I can’t stay focused in the time it takes to cross the house. If I ignore that signal for a few days or weeks, it builds to my being impatient and snappy toward the people I love the most—often when they are trying to get my attention away from my thoughts, my phone, the task I’m involved in or the conversation I’m having. Too much input always result in a lash out. I get overwhelmed easily. Conflicting sound sources or volumes become too much to bear and will make me nauseous. This is usually when I start paying attention. Without intervention, my appetite starts to go away. I realize I need to do something to reset, but at this point the grooves are so deeply imbedded in my habits that it’s hard to make a sweeping change without feeling twitchy and unsettled. Within days, I develop moiré patterns in my vision and the field begins to narrow. A dull ache builds in my forehead and at the base of my neck and shoulders. I forget what joy feels like even though the tremendous beauty of the world and people in my life around me have not dulled one bit. A song I listened to days ago can get lodged in my head so viscerally that the chorus looping through my brain becomes a tinnitus-like torture that can keep me awake for hours a night—even though my body and mind are exhausted and begging for rest.
So I’m stepping back. Hard reset. As little electronic time as possible. Feet in grass. Skin on skin. Pencil on paper. Body in water. Sneakers on pavement. Wind in hair. Lips on cheeks. Tasting my food. Smelling the air. Sipping Rooibos tea. Feeling my pain. Surrendering to the overwhelming fullness of this insanely awesome life I get to live. I don’t need a retreat or a vacation or a weekend alone. I just need to practice being here now. Here. Now. Here. Now…
In case you’re concerned, don’t worry, I’ve got this. I have a psychiatrist and a therapist (who I see often). I am #blessed with four incredible best friends who are either licensed therapists or married to therapists or play therapists on tv. I’m sharing because I think it’s important to share our struggles so other people know they aren’t alone. Investing in your health and well being is the single best investment you will ever make for yourself and everyone in your life. Period.