The Death of Doomscrolling: How Smashing the Puny Youtube Habit Restored My Peace of Mind
I did a little "thought experiment" on myself recently, testing a theory I’ve been sitting on for a while: what if my anxiety all these years was just plain old over-stimulation?
Being hyper-aware of everything going on around me—especially the stuff that doesn't actually matter in the grand scheme—has always been my default setting.
I can still remember sitting on the living room floor as a kid, watching sitcoms on the big cabinet TV, playing video games on a tiny 15-inch screen right next to it, and listening to the radio through a pair of cheap, cruddy headphones all at the same time. Talk about an embarrassment of riches.
That habit of stacking entertainment three layers deep never really left; it just shifted shape as I got older.
So, my recent fix was simple: get away from the ads and cut the cord on outside entertainment.
People make stepping back from media sound like this monumental, grueling task, but honestly? It wasn't hard at all. When you have the means and a deeply rooted desire to actually make stuff, turning away from other people's media happens naturally. It's really not that damn complicated.
When I sat down to assess what the actual core problem was, the answer was staring me right in the face: it really is that damn phone.
Specifically, that annoying video platform run by Google. I can tell you right now, none of those ads will be missed.
Ignoring YouTube and its army of phony "clout-fluencers" has done absolute wonders for my drive to step out into the world and just try new things.
I'm not scared of messing up anymore. I’ve fully come to terms with the fact that gaining real experience requires a steady diet of trial and error.
No comparisons. No brooding. No doomscrolling through a feed designed to make you feel like you're falling behind.
Staying out of the loop has given my confidence and self-esteem room to actually grow. Turns out, when you stop letting algorithms broadcast everyone else's highlight reels into your brain 24/7, the quiet space left behind is pretty damn cozy.
