It was almost two months ago that I fully gave up doomscrolling Reels and short form video. They say it takes three weeks to drop or develop a new habit, and, now that I’m past that window, I’m reporting my findings.
I hoped that I would become someone as peaceful as the Dalai Lama. I’d imagined myself a refreshed person with a much more peaceful disposition and outlook on life.
Instead, I feel the same.
My reason for quitting doomscrolling was simple: I noticed that I would doomscroll for a half hour (or longer) at a time and, if you asked me, “what Reel did you watch 4 Reels ago?” I couldn’t tell you. My attention span was shot. And, as time passed, it felt like the odd hilarious or super-interesting Reel was becoming a diamond in an increasingly large rough.
I’m aware that there’s all sorts of science saying “drop social media and you’ll be happier.” I’d like to address that head-on: it had zero impact on my dropping Reels. It’s been obvious that social media is cheap dopamine for years. I was happily ignoring the science.
I deleted Instagram and, obviously and instantly, had a lot more time on my hands.
With Instagram, my first-thing-in-the-morning routine was to sit in a particular white chair which sets on our oversized Persian rug and watch Reels as I woke up. In deleting Instagram, my mornings transitioned to spending the first 20 minutes of my day staring deeply at said rug. I like to call it “meditating.” After the grogginess faded, I decided to pick up a book that I’d been putting off.
Tiny moments of boredom became immediately noticeable. I was at Starbucks waiting for a coffee order for Miranda and I on a Wednesday morning. Miranda was about to give me a much-needed haircut, and Starbucks was my payment. It had been about a month since my previous haircut. I didn’t look completely disheveled, but I was in a pretty sorry state. In the before times, I would’ve watched Reels until they called my name. Instead, I watched the Starbucks team seemingly so intently that a barista asked “Are you waiting for DoorDash? Who are you picking up for?”
Those tiny moments of boredom sent my brain searching for substitute garbage. I turned to the Facebook feed.
The Facebook feed has a problem Instagram doesn’t have: horrible content. Facebook is flooded with AI slop. It’s almost unbearable. The worst part of Facebook is that old people don’t know yet that they’re reposting AI slop, so 75 and 80-year-olds are reposting slop images of insane scenes like a fireman holding two perfectly-positioned, purebred puppies while a dilapidated home burns in front of them captioned “All dogs deserve dignity… even in a fire.”
I gave up on the feed after a day or so. Instead, I decided to scroll on Facebook Marketplace.
That excursion lasted all of 10 seconds before I found a listing asking $125 for a porcelain Mother Theresa who looked like she was possessed. I’d actually considered buying it for my deeply religious sister but decided against it. My mom, upon seeing how possessed it looked, would not be able to contain her laughter, which would make my sister like it even less.
I also saw listings titled “Pink leather dress. Great for raves, custom, and cross play” and “Pink Patent Zip-Front Cutout Mini Dress” being offered for $15 each. Upon investigating the woman’s seller profile, she was also selling a black leather cut out dress (also marketed for cross-play) and had recently sold both a schoolgirl outfit for $12 and a “BBL buttocks raising pillow” for $16.
At first, I was offended that someone bought the used buttocks-raising pillow for only $16. Have some class, I thought. But then I realized that the person who buys a used buttocks-raising pillow is probably the same person who wants to get a good deal on it.
For $125, I could buy a t-shirt embroidered with “M.I.L.F.S” and underneath it said “Man I Love Florida State.”
For $100, I could buy several packs of nipple rings which were “great quality, just too big.”
And for $5 I could buy a sticker of Marge Simpson wearing lingerie.
So anyway, I deleted Facebook. Then I redownloaded it. My curiosity to see what’s on Marketplace was too strong. I’ve been rewarded handsomely for my search.
Just this week I found a listing called “Box of Education Books” being offered for $65 + $18 shipping. The listing description was “Bunch of 70s and 80s education books” but the book shown in the cover image was called “Why is Daddy Leaving? A Child’s Story.”
I also saw a listing for a woman selling the lease for her Ford Mustang, as she can’t make the $565.57 monthly payment. Curious, I checked out her seller profile. She was also selling “At Home Euthanasia Service for dogs and cats” for $400 with optional cremation. $250 to get the ashes back or without the ashes back for $80.
Despite what it may seem, I don’t spend much time on Facebook Marketplace. Maybe 5 minutes per day. I no longer search. My feed now shows me this kind of stuff first. I still have another hour per day, at minimum, to fill with other things.
On paper, it looks like I’ve picked up several good habits since dropping doomscrolling.
I’ve “meditated” daily. This is my 20-minutes of morning grogginess where I sit in one particular chair and stare at our beautiful, handmade Persian rug.
I’ve read daily.
I’ve taken up morning yoga.
I’ve cooked 8 new recipes. I’ve already taken a particular fondness to cooking, but many of these recipes have been more complex. I even bought and used tamarind paste. I don’t even know what tamarind is, but the lamb I cooked with it was delicious.
I’ve watched a lot more YouTube. The difference between a YouTube video and a Reel cannot be overstated. The videos I’ve watched are all over the board. I learned how 24-hour shipping works, learned about the inner-workings of the kitchen at Eleven Madison Park, and watched a travel vlogger in Chechnya. I also watch the Dish podcast several times per week which is where I’ve found 100% of the new recipes I’ve cooked.
I’ve watched 10 movies. I knew my doomscrolling habit was bad when I started considering watching a movie to be productive.
If you’d told me before I deleted Instagram that I’d pick up all these habits, I would’ve thought that I’d achieved that Dalai Lama-level zen I’d so hoped for. Unfortunately, my inner peace is seemingly unchanged.
Neither my sleep nor my health have dramatically improved. Besides morning yoga, I spend no more time in the gym and I burn no more calories per day.
I’m neither calmer nor more tolerant; I still get irrationally angry at bad drivers, families that take up the whole sidewalk while they walk, and public displays of affection that last for more than several seconds. I roll my eyes whenever anyone kisses on an airplane. Especially now that my home airport is Orlando International, I still feel uneasy when I see adults traveling without children and wearing mouse ears.
My reading style has not changed and is purely for pleasure. I read almost-exclusively comedy, Greek and Roman history, and weekly tech-update newsletters. I’ve not picked up a self-help book, nor am I interested in anyone else’s suggestions for how I should help myself.
I redownloaded Instagram two weeks into my detox because I wanted to post our wedding pictures. I told myself “No Reels!”, and I’ve stuck with it. Even though I posted our wedding photos long ago, I haven’t re-deleted Instagram.
I discovered things I missed. I missed seeing friends’ Stories. Most of my friends’ life updates, especially faraway friends, are on Stories. Without seeing Stories, I felt more disconnected.
I missed seeing my favorite Italian tailor saying “Buongiorno amici” then saying something uplifting like “And who doesn’t like Mondays? Especially when you’re having a Monday like mine.”
Whenever I open Instagram, I’ll inevitably watch a Reel or two. The scrolling is so natural it’s almost instinctive. I realize I scrolled when the subject matter changes drastically.
“That’s odd. I was just watching a video of how to cook salmon, but now a guy is singing a rap version of Baa Baa Black Sheep at a kid’s birthday party”, I think. It hits me: I scrolled. And I close the app.
Miranda said she’s noticed a difference since I’ve dropped Reels. She wouldn’t list specifics besides to say that I “still second-screen, but less, which is a really bad habit by the way.” She’s right — I do second-screen less, and now I notice when I do it.
I guess the moral of the story is that I stopped doomscrolling, have a lot of time on my hands, have done a lot of seemingly positive stuff, but feel, on the inside, no different.
Each day, I wonder if today’s the day that I’ll achieve the zen of the Dalai Lama. I “meditate”, I read, I write, I do yoga. In the evenings, after I’ve not achieved the zen I desired, I wonder if tomorrow will be the day.
I think might be getting a little more creative. When I told Miranda that I was writing an essay about quitting doomscrolling, she looked at me suspiciously and asked, “What’s there to write about? I thought you said you didn’t feel different.” Now, this essay exists, so you be the judge.
I observed Miranda scrolling on Instagram. Watching her scroll, read, scroll, watch, scroll, watch, scroll, watch, scroll, read, and so on, seemed a little manic. So maybe I have changed?
One morning, I woke up unusually early at 5:30, finished “meditating” at 6:00, and asked myself “what should I do now?”
I decided to pickle onions. I’d never pickled onions before and wanted to try it out. By dinner, they were absolutely delicious.
While I may not have improved my inner zen, those pickled onions brought me the most joy of anything I’ve done since dropping doomscrolling.
I’m not sure if the Dalai Lama has eaten pickled onions before. If he hasn’t, he can find that fulfillment at my house.
I’ll film it; it would make a great Reel.
You’re a stitch. Hahahahahahaha