How I finally gained control over my scrolling addiction

Good afternoon, my name is Tina and I am addicted to scrolling!

If this were, by any chance, a meeting of anonymous addicts in some series where I play myself, my fellow sufferers would applaud, approving my bold confession, someone might even hug me, and the meeting leader with a notebook in her lap would thank me for joining the group and then ask how it all began. I would probably answer the way politicians do when they want to avoid a question, talking about something that has absolutely nothing to do with the topic. The truth is that I have no idea how it started, but what I do know is that plunging into the digital abyss of utterly meaningless scrolling had long driven me into complete despair. It also took me quite a lot of time to admit to myself that I had no idea what to do when left alone with my thoughts. Out of some inexplicable fear of boredom, I surrendered to quick dopamine hits, naively hoping they would put me in a good mood. That, of course, never happened.

During my hours of aimless journeys through virtual spaces, I would treat myself to videos of clumsy puppies and piglets playing in a meadow, women folding sculptures out of bedding, the adventures of Francis the ram, politicians dodging questions, and a deep analysis of Jasna’s Instagram profile in an attempt to figure out what happened to her since primary school. After that French salad of content, the only thing I would remember was Francis, and boredom would finally transform into despair, a bouquet of the darkest thoughts and grief over all the time lost. Along with all that, after the worst doom scrolling sessions, I would also feel a numbing fog in my head, as if I had just woken from an unplanned afternoon nap and had no idea where I was or why.

Anyway, at one point I snapped.

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The black hole of scrolling and the methods that did not work

I do not have official statistics (nor am I sure they exist), but I would confidently bet that scrolling addiction is the most widespread addiction of our time. I became aware of this years ago when I started cycling to work. Purely for fun, on my way to the office, I would count the people who, with their eyes glued to the screen, showed no instinct for self-preservation and left it up to others to decide whether something would bump into them or avoid them. I noticed that people simply cannot detach from their phones and that it has almost imperceptibly become an extension of our palm, something like a tool that will one day transform the anatomy of our fingers to make it easier to handle. With people around whom I feel safe sharing my thoughts, struggles and doubts, I often talked about scrolling, despair and effective ways to reduce screen time to levels that would not harm my mental wellbeing. I realised then that the resistance to scrolling and the time it takes for scrolling to push someone into despair is deeply individual. For some, it never leads to despair, and that is probably fine.

Many years passed before I found a method that actually pulls me away (at least sometimes!) from the seductive call of my phone. I tried everything. I would leave my phone in the farthest room in the apartment, I have not heard notification sounds since around 2018, I set reminders when I reached my daily limit (and regularly extended it), I thought about signing up for some retreat in Italy where they take your phone for two weeks while you plant gardens with other sufferers thinking about the messages they cannot check, I read other people’s experiences and tried to adopt some of them. Once, for example, a friend sent me an article about a man who locked his phone in a safe and put a message on the screen that read: Why do you want to scroll right now?. I do not have a safe, but nothing similar worked.

The a-ha moment and the methods that finally worked

Finding hobbies that make me happy

Then, sometime in the middle of this year, it hit me. There is no point in distracting myself from scrolling if I still will not know what to do with myself. What I actually need are not messages saying Do not scroll!, but an answer to how to fill my time in a way that brings satisfaction. I sat down and made a list of activities I enjoy, that are fun, fulfilling and, perhaps most importantly, keep my hands busy. Three items made the list: the gym, books and DIY. I realised that this combination of hobbies could have a positive effect on my mental and physical health, while allowing me to feel comfortable, interested in learning and improving, and motivated to return to them. I knew that if I chose a hobby I was not genuinely interested in, I would most likely give it up at the first opportunity.

Liz Sunshine

Hobbies that proved successful (or at least somewhat successful)

The gym turned out to be an excellent method. I leave my phone locked for at least an hour while I diligently work on my biceps and glutes, and I do not think about it at all. Books are a slightly less successful saviour. The ability to stay focused on turning pages has probably drastically decreased over the years, and the generator of pointless notifications we forgot to lock away is often nearby. But the method that has proven the most successful so far is do it yourself. At the beginning of this whole process, I went to a Sunday flea market. I bought an entire collection of buttons from a lady, stocked up on needles, threads and all kinds of beads at a local hobby shop, pulled out old blazers I no longer wear and saved a few Pinterest photos in my newly opened inspo folder. I promised myself not to worry about the outcome because I was entering this DIY adventure for the process, with an open mind and curiosity about what it might bring. I wanted a project that would last. To sew two hundred buttons onto the lapels of a coat, add fringe to every fabric item in my home, attach five hundred beads to an old blazer that has not been worn in ages. To forget about time.

Something truly wonderful happened. As I became absorbed in the process, my mind felt clean in the same way it does when you run for a while and your legs begin to move on their own, carrying you into a kind of inexplicable meditative bliss. One sewn button followed another, and as the story unfolded and my upcycled blazer became more interesting, the less I felt the urge to stop.

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Slow hobbies that bring us back to the present moment

It is interesting that this idea struck me just as slow hobbies are having their moment again. People are probably equally desperate and finding similar solutions to escape states that do not serve them. Crocheting, pottery, gardening, birdwatching, solving crosswords or simply sewing buttons onto coats are all ways to find peace in a hectic world and live consciously in the present moment for at least a short while. These are also hobbies you do not share with anyone because their purpose is not to end up on an Instagram feed, but to spend quality time, take a break from scrolling, news and notifications, and immerse yourself in a slow process of making something. Calmly, without comparison, without the pressure to monetise everything you do or to make everything you touch perfect.

Although it would be lovely, my DIY experiments do not look like they were created by Elsa Schiaparelli in her best days, but that does not matter. It took me a few tries to figure out how to sew rows of beads so they would not fall apart the moment I blink. I am not entirely sure I have even mastered that. But what I have figured out is a method that works when I want to avoid the black abyss of pointless scrolling. If you see me in the coming months wearing vintage blazers with a heap of sewn-on buttons that will probably look aesthetically borderline, let it be clear that this is not just another ordinary DIY project. It is therapy.