My Month of Rest and Relaxation

Although this last April didn’t include an attempt to sleep through my days in front of a VCR player in a wealthy Manhatten apartment building, like Ottessa Moshfegh’s protagonist would have suggested I do, it did include some much needed down time.

For my first post here, I have decided to outline my social media detox, and talk about the lessons that I learned in my month away from the internet.

Now, it might sound ridiculous to claim that only a few weeks away from social media could have a lasting impact on a person, but as a member of the chronically online, generation Z, I can attest that those few weeks were VERY interesting to navigate, and reframed my relationship with the internet and with myself.

My decision to take a break from all social media stemmed from the fact that the idea alone, terrified me.

I thought about how much time I spent online, how large of a resource social media is for my career, and how much of my social life revolves around social media, so the thought of voluntarily stepping away from those platforms for an extended period of time not only felt challenging, but also, illogical.

Why would I step away from the space that stimulates me creatively, and helps connect me to others in my industry?

But after realizing how obsessive I was becoming about maintaining my social image, and how difficult it was to moderate my time on each app, and how exhausting it was to filter through all of the information being thrown at me, I realized a break was overdue.

So, on March 29th, I decided that it all must go.

I had already deleted TikTok a few months prior, after realizing how deeply it was affecting my time management skills among other things, but Instagram and Twitter were now on the chopping block.

And saying that the journey was difficult would be an understatement.

That was my first wakeup call to how deeply these apps had me in a headlock.

My want to spend time on my social media pages almost felt like a strange craving.

I needed the social stimulation provided by the constant stream of information beeping to me on my phone.

I’d find myself picking up my phone just to set it back down again, stressing over what opportunities I was missing, what inside jokes I was being left out of, what parties I wasn’t invited to just because I didn’t get the word.

And to be honest, I was bored. I went to work, and came home, and twiddled my thumbs until I decided which movie to turn on, or what book to start reading and eventaully give up on.

I did A LOT of laundry, and made tea quite frequently, went to sleep, and then woke up and did it all again.

And as pathetic as it sounds, I honestly did not know how to navigate my life without these apps.

Especially since graduation this last May, it felt like my entire social world had shifted online. I was meeting tons of new people, and leaving old friends, and the only way to stay in contact with all of them, was through social media.

So stepping away from that left me with a feeling of deep insecurity about my social life and career.

But I promise, this journey wasn’t completely in vain. Over time, that initial shock wore off, and the haze was lifted, and I began to gain some retrospect, and learn a thing or two.

The first that I learned is that there is NOTHING richer than the present moment.

Our time and attention are some of the most valuable assets that we have, and although there is good to be found online, (I promise you this is not an anti-internet argument), the present moment, where we are physically, will always have more to offer than meets the eye.

One of my favorite quotes by poet, Mary Oliver, says, “Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”

And as of late my life has become a lot more “Tell about it” than “Pay attention” and it sure as hell hasn’t had enough of “Be astonished.”

But in my time where I had no choice but to mentally be where my body was too, I began to appreciate the little things so much more. My autopilot was suddenly shut off, and I didn’t have the option of dissociating in front of my phone through every meal, or at the bus stop, or in the last few hours of my evening.

I was present,

and forced to find the riches there.

And they were there.

Even the dust in the air seemed to have more depth than before.

It was refreshing, and calming, and exciting all at once.

I began to savour the little things. It wasn’t about capturing these beautiful moments, but enjoying them fully, because I knew that they wouldn’t last forever.

It wasn’t about documenting them, to show off to the few hundred people that would swipe past my post on Instagram,

it was about taking it in,

for me and only me.

The second thing I learned is that there will always be somewhere better to be,

a prettier view,

a nicer meal,

but like Theodore Roosevelt said,

“Comparison is the thief of joy.”

If you think that you will ever be satisfied by holding your life up to the highlight reel of someone else’s online presence, and trying to meet the standard of “joy” that you see there, you will always come up short.

Nothing fundamental about my life changed when I stepped away from social media, but without the impossible standard of life that Instagram seems to be imposing on all of us pressing against the back of my neck, I felt a deeper joy for my life than I had in a long time.

My ability to be grateful increased ten fold, and I no longer held a microscope up to every aspect of me, trying to find each of my shortcomings.

I was able to take in what was mine, and leave behind what was not.

The last thing I learned, and would like to share with you, is the importance of curating the information we take in.

We live in a time where we will never be in a lack of information. Any one person existing on the internet today has more information available to them, than some of the most powerful people did 100 years ago.

Our ability to learn, develop new skills, or connect with others regardless of geographic location, is greater now than it has ever been in the course of human history.

And that is an incredible thing.

But it also has its downsides.

We are constantly thrown stories of horror and war and destruction in a way that no other generation has had to navigate.

And to be frank, we are not built to process all of that all at once.

It is no surprise that our generation suffers from the highest levels of anxiety and depression to date, when we recognize the diet we are feeding our minds.

And of course, recognizing social problems is one of the first steps to change, so completely blocking out all bad information is not a solution either, but curating when, how, and how much of this information we take in isn’t just beneficial to our mental health, it’s necessary.

After this detox I have set a few ground rules for myself while navigating the news of the internet.

This looks like not consuming media first thing in the morning, or right before bed, not engaging in online discourse that I know will not end in productive change, reading about heavy subjects rather than watching videos or looking at images, especially when they involve violence, and most importantly, acting on what I see.

Signing petitions, having hard conversations IN PERSON, evaluating my life to see how I can LIVE as a better ally to historically oppressed demographics, and learning how I can better love those in my own community.

These steps have allowed me to reframe my relationship with the black hole of information that is the internet.

Overall this detox was a very positive experience for me, and has helped me reshape my relationship with the internet.

I know that I have more to learn, but I am grateful for the lessons that this break allowed me, and I hope that this will encourage others to take into consideration doing the same.

I hope this post is beneficial, thanks for following along,

Much love,

Xoxo, Cam.