Do you ever worry that you are a stalker? I don’t mean the kind of stalker who follows someone through dark alleys or harasses exes with constant messages and calls. I mean the kind of stalking which is online, anonymous, horribly easy and socially accepted.
Daily, I find myself looking up an Instagram account just to watch the user’s stories, to find out what they are doing that day, what restaurant they are eating at for dinner, which friends they are seeing for drinks. For anonymity, I will label this Instagram woman ‘Ellie Rose’.
I feel ashamed to admit this habit, but I expect, and selfishly hope, that others can relate. Ellie Rose’s life seems perfect; a successful career, a handsome fiancé, a classy beach-side apartment. But it’s not just that. Ellie Rose is beautiful, her family is beautiful, she has great clothes and a flawless smile. She exercises regularly, hiking and goes to boxing classes, but she also seems to eat what she wants while dressed in a silk maxi skirt and big, black sunglasses at expensive restaurants.
“Hitting unfollow and reducing my screen time can only be a good thing for me now.”
My unhealthy fascination escalated during the lockdown. While I sat at home feeling demotivated, writing endless lists of projects which never materialised as I hoped, Ellie Rose’s lockdown seemed positive and productive, full of home workouts and family meals.
This is a self-damaging, unhealthy habit. Recently, as lockdown has eased and I have found my levels of anxiety increasing. As uncertainty fuses with an expectation to return to ‘normal’ activities, I have decided that it needs to stop.
The ‘Digital Age’ is exciting. The opportunities it provides for our generation are numerous – LinkedIn networking, online dating, activism campaigning – and as I approach the prospect of online learning in my final year of university the utility of the internet has become especially clear.
“Daily, I find myself looking up an Instagram account just to watch the user’s stories.”
The darkest sides to the digital world have certainly been uncovered and addressed. The danger of cyber-bullying is taught in PSHE lessons, and students are aware of the danger of blackmail if they send risqué pictures over Snapchat. Security services police online chatrooms for terrorist incitement and social media platforms allow users to report other inappropriate users.
But what about the grey area? The dark side which isn’t so dark. Not only has looking at a laptop for weeks on-end contributed to severe back and neck pain, but the mental impact of increased digital engagement has been far from positive. Scrolling through feeds and watching stories is aimless and time-wasting. Friends during lockdown commented on the number of times that they watched a story as soon as it was put on, swiftly feeling embarrassed by the fact that the user could see how quickly they viewed.
“But what about the grey area? The dark side which isn’t so dark.”
People talk about a Digital Detox, but it only ever lasts a few days. People talk about deleting social media, but rarely follow through. Perhaps the solution should not be so extreme. A more manageable experiment is available: unfollow users who you hardly know, who incite feelings of jealousy-driven awe or promote unhealthy messages.
Make small changes to your routine. If you are home during the day, leave your phone in a different room, instead of in your pocket. Leave hourly (or longer) gaps between checking for messages, and allow yourself only one minute on Instagram each time you go on. Don’t go on your phone when you are with friends or family, to post a story or photo which is primarily driven by a need for self-affirmation, which might even be encouraging an unhealthy habit in someone else.
A notification alerted me that last week my screen time had reduced by 20%. This filled me with an unexpected amount of satisfaction. I feel calmer and able to concentrate more efficiently. All these changes might sound difficult, but I believe that they are achievable. I am still connected with positive digital outlets, updating my LinkedIn profile and using Facebook frequently for my work with my university newspaper, but am now cutting out futile minutes of screen-time.
“I feel ashamed to admit this habit, but I expect, and selfishly hope, that others can relate.”
So, Ellie Rose, your life looks beautiful, and I am sure parts of it are. But what about the not-so-beautiful parts? Heartbreak. Crippling period pains during a work meeting. A dwindling bank account. Maybe even an argument with your fiancé while on the way to the sparkling white beach?
I’ll miss seeing the images and videos of a seemingly idyllic life, but I need to accept that these are snapshots, not full portraits. Maybe there is someone that Ellie Rose herself regularly views on Instagram, who creates her own feelings of envy? None of this is Ellie Rose’s fault. It’s the Digital Age: it’s lockdown; it’s my own insecurity.
Hitting unfollow and reducing my screen time can only be a good thing for me now. I recommend to everyone that you look at the screen-time on your phone, reflect on your unhealthy online habits, and put into practice methods that can lead to a less anxious existence.
Immy Higgins
Featured image courtesy of Solen Feyissa via Unsplash .