Doomscrolling, short-form content, and the strange feeling of being online without actually enjoying it.

I opened my phone to check one message.

One.

Forty-seven minutes later, I was watching a stranger make a tiny chair for a hamster.

I don't own a hamster.

I don't need a tiny chair.

I don't even know how I got there.

But there I was.

Watching.

Then another video.

Then another.

Swipe.

Swipe.

Swipe.

At some point I thought, I'm not even enjoying this.

So naturally...

I kept scrolling.

The strange thing about doomscrolling

Doomscrolling is a strange thing.

And honestly, not all of it is even doom.

Sometimes it's news.

Sometimes it's memes.

Sometimes it's someone's holiday.

Sometimes it's a guy explaining why your mattress is ruining your life.

Sometimes it's a dog.

Then another dog.

Then a cooking video you'll never cook.

Then a stranger arguing with another stranger about something you didn't care about thirty seconds ago.

And somehow, you're still there.

Why?

The next thing is always waiting

I think the weirdest part is that scrolling doesn't require a decision.

You don't have to decide what you want to watch.

The next thing is already waiting.

Swipe.

Something new.

Swipe.

Something else.

Every now and then, you get something genuinely funny or interesting.

And that's enough to make your brain think:

Okay, one more.

And then another.

And another.

Until you've somehow spent an hour consuming things you didn't even know existed.

I wasn't even having fun

The other day I caught myself doing exactly this.

I wasn't laughing.

I wasn't learning anything.

I wasn't talking to anyone.

I wasn't even particularly interested in what I was looking at.

I was just...

still scrolling.

That felt weird.

Because what was I actually looking for?

A better video?

A better mood?

Some kind of distraction?

Or was I simply uncomfortable with having nothing to look at?

We've become very good at filling empty moments

Waiting for coffee?

Phone.

Waiting for the bus?

Phone.

In an elevator?

Phone.

Five seconds of silence?

Quick. Emergency. Deploy Instagram.

We've somehow made boredom feel like something that needs fixing.

And maybe that's the part worth thinking about.

Because boredom used to be where random thoughts came from.

You stared out the window.

You watched people.

You made up stories.

You remembered something you'd forgotten.

You thought about calling someone.

You did absolutely nothing.

And then, eventually, your brain found something to do.

Now the moment our brain says,

"Hmm. Nothing's happening..."

our hand is already reaching for the phone.

I'm not deleting my apps anytime soon

I'm not saying we need to delete every app and move to a mountain.

I like my phone.

I like memes.

I like sending people videos with absolutely no context.

I'm not becoming the person who tells everyone that phones are destroying civilization while secretly checking their notifications under the table.

But lately, I've started noticing the difference between using my phone and using my phone because I don't want to be wherever I am.

Those aren't quite the same thing.

Sometimes I genuinely want to watch something.

Sometimes I want to talk to someone.

Sometimes I just want to switch my brain off for a while.

And sometimes...

I'm scrolling because I don't know what else to do.

Those moments are surprisingly easy to miss.

So now I try something very complicated

When I catch myself scrolling without actually enjoying it, I try something very complicated.

I stop.

That's it.

No dramatic digital detox.

No deleting every app.

No announcing my new minimalist lifestyle to 600 people.

I just put the phone down.

Sometimes I look around.

Sometimes I get bored.

Sometimes I start thinking about something completely random.

And sometimes, after about twelve seconds...

I pick the phone back up.

Apparently, I still have work to do.

But at least now I notice when the hamster chair has won.

☕ Until next coffee thought,

— The Everyday Mind