There was a stretch of time when my mornings didn’t really start until I’d checked Instagram. I’d sit on the edge of my bed, coffee going cold on the nightstand, thumb glued to my screen. It always started innocently — replying to a message, checking a notification. But before I knew it, I’d fallen into a scroll hole. Forty-five minutes gone. My energy? Sapped. My mood? Meh.
And that ache in my chest? Comparison.
Social media was built to connect us — I still believe that. But somewhere along the way, it became something I leaned on too much. And it wasn’t just my time that slipped away. It was my clarity. My confidence. My presence in the actual, physical world.
If you’ve found yourself caught in the loop — checking, comparing, refreshing — I promise you’re not alone. Let’s talk about what social media addiction really feels like, and how I started taking my life back — one mindful, clumsy, very human step at a time.
The Quiet Creep of Digital Overload
Social media addiction doesn’t feel dramatic. It’s not like an alarm goes off.
It’s more like this: you’re in bed, thumb hovering, and suddenly it’s 10 p.m. and you’ve somehow ended up watching a stranger decorate a cake in Bali while wondering why your own life feels flat in comparison.
That was me — night after night.
I used to convince myself I was “just catching up.” But honestly? I was numbing out. The constant pressure to be interesting, in the loop, productive — it wore me down.
And I didn’t notice how much it was costing me until I realised I was sleeping less, smiling less, and spending more time with my phone than with my actual partner.
1. Recognise What’s Really Draining You
One morning, I opened Instagram and immediately felt… tense. It wasn’t even anything dramatic. Just a string of perfectly filtered workouts, a couple of selfies, and a “How I Made £10K This Month” reel.
That quiet little voice in my head whispered, You’re not doing enough.
And that’s when it hit me: it wasn’t me. It was the content I was feeding myself before I’d even brushed my teeth.
Pro Tip: Start noticing what leaves you feeling flat or “less than.” Mute. Unfollow. You don’t owe anyone access to your energy.
2. Curate a Feed That Feels Like a Breath Out
After a few weeks of ruthless unfollowing, my feed began to shift.
I started following artists, educators, slow-living accounts, and creators who shared messy, honest slices of life. Suddenly, social media felt softer. More human.
Instead of feeling behind, I felt curious again.
Quick Win: Scroll your feed like you’re walking through your home. If something feels cluttered, heavy, or loud — clear it out.
3. Set Gentle Boundaries (and Stick to Them Most Days)
At first, I tried the hardcore approach: deleting apps, going full digital detox. It didn’t last.
What worked better? Small boundaries that felt doable.
No social media before breakfast. No scrolling in bed. Notifications off — permanently.
My brain didn’t love it at first. But within a few days, I noticed something: I had thoughts again. Not other people’s. Mine.
Real Talk: You don’t need to be available 24/7. Try leaving your phone in another room during meals. See what surfaces.
4. Stop Performing, Start Connecting
I used to post things just to see who’d respond. I’d refresh obsessively, counting likes like they meant something.
But after all that? I still felt lonely.
Now, I post when something wants to be shared — not when I feel I should. I DM friends when I think of them. I comment to connect, not to be seen.
Pro Tip: Ask yourself: Am I posting to express, or to impress?
5. Drop the Comparison Game
This one still sneaks up on me. I’ll be five minutes into a scroll and suddenly questioning everything from my job to my jeans.
But here’s what helps: I pause, take a breath, and remember — everyone’s showing the edited version. You don’t see the awkward pauses, the self-doubt, the dishes in the sink.
Quick Win: Keep a “real wins” note. Mine has things like: Went for a walk instead of scrolling. Said no to something I didn’t want to do. Cooked a meal I actually enjoyed. These reminders ground me in my life.
6. Reconnect IRL (And Let It Be Imperfect)
I started small: I put my phone on aeroplane mode at dinner. Screen-free walks with a friend. Even just sitting outside with my coffee, phone face down.
It felt awkward at first. Like I was missing something. But slowly, I started noticing more — people’s faces, the sound of birds, how good it felt to look up.
Pro Tip: Schedule offline time like you would a meeting. Make it non-negotiable. You’ll be surprised by what you remember you love.
7. Replace the Habit With Something That Actually Feeds You
Here’s the truth: when I stopped scrolling, I felt twitchy. Restless. Like, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
But that feeling didn’t mean I was failing — it meant I was finally feeling.
Now, when the itch hits, I have a few go-to rituals. Stretching. Journalling. Making a slow breakfast. Sometimes I just sit on the floor and stare at the ceiling. (Honestly? It’s underrated.)
Real Talk: You’re not meant to be entertained every second. Boredom is fertile ground for creativity, rest, and clarity.
8. Therapy Helped More Than Any App Blocker
If you’re really struggling, please know this: you’re not weak. And you’re definitely not broken.
Therapy gave me language for the things I couldn’t explain — like why I craved digital validation, or why silence made me uncomfortable.
Reaching out wasn’t a last resort. It was the first real step toward healing.
You Don’t Need to Quit — You Need to Choose
You don’t have to delete every app. You don’t have to become a minimalist monk.
But you do get to choose: What kind of relationship do I want with the online world? What am I giving it — and what is it giving back?
Start small. One boundary. One unfollow. One honest moment of presence.
Because your life isn’t meant to be lived through a screen.
It’s meant to be felt — right here, in the messy, beautiful, unfiltered now.