on being chronically offline
reflections on being 4 years insta-sober
It’s been four years since I ripped your fangs from my throat, and I’m thankful everyday for it. The idea that I considered my 200 or so “followers” my friends is laughable in hindsight. Would you believe me if I told you that not one person noticed when I deleted my account? I mean, I’m sure at least one did, but that wasn’t until much, much later.
I need it to stay in touch with my friends, I’d tell myself. What friends? The ones whose camaraderie extended to liking carefully curated pictures of me? Would you believe me if I told that, with every passing year of being offline, fewer and fewer people remember your birthday? To be offline is akin to not existing in this day and age.
All those people you tried to please, while simultaneously destroying your mental health, won’t even notice once you’re gone. Well, maybe, they will if they keep meticulous track of their subscriber count.
You have nothing to lose and everything to gain from deleting social media. Initially, the withdrawal and fear of missing out will feel like a slow poison, but in time you’ll realize it was all in your mind.
You figure out who your real friends are and have the opportunity to build deeper connections with them. Ask yourself: who’s showing up for you? Who actually responds to your texts, and makes time for you? In the absence of online interactions, who’s meeting you half way?
But more than that, what do you have to gain from quitting social media? The answer: clarity. So much fucking clarity. And wonder, and genuine curiosity and appreciation for the world around you. Your self-worth is no longer a slave to the corporations and their algorithms. Your childlike sense of wonder starts to come back. What are you giving it all up for?
Being chronically offline is a blessing in disguise. I don’t know the newest internet trends right away and I’m ok with that. I much prefer a friend educate me on what brat girl summer is instead. I’m not ignorant, I read the news, I like to know what’s going on. I just don’t need to be immersed in the noise of the internet all the time. I do have an Instagram account, which I use to view public profiles from time to time. But beyond that, I’ve noticed that the app is only getting more and more stimulating and I can’t handle that anymore. As a 20-something, I have made peace with the fact that I am far too old for this shit.
If you enjoyed this piece, please consider reading somewhat of a sequel to this article here.
as a fellow 20-something year old who is beginning to become offline for my mental health, this post is so comforting and relatable!
Thought you might like this quote from Kyle Chayka's 'Filterworld', "No one cares when you stop tweeting; the algorithm will simply slot in the content of some more willing participant, because, in Filterworld, everyone is replaceable."
Game changing. I hope to wake up one day and realise I’ve gone 6 months without reactivating my instagram account. All the photos I’ve posted there are on my phone and in my photo albums. The obsession has done nothing but dissolve my enjoyment of things.