Let me start by saying: I love Instagram. Like, love-love it. It’s my guilty pleasure, my personal black hole, my daily dose of serotonin with a side of brain damage. But somewhere between reels, filters, and “that one aesthetic travel vlog I’ll never recreate,” I think Instagram quietly rewired my brain.
I don’t even remember when it happened. One day I was “just checking notifications,” and the next thing I knew, I’d been scrolling for two hours, watching a cat bake banana bread while a motivational quote flashed across the screen. I couldn’t tell you the caption, the creator, or why I watched it thrice. I just know I lost brain cells.
I used to be that girl who read books. Real books. Paper, ink, the whole deal. Now, I can’t get through a single paragraph without checking my phone like I’m waiting for Ranveer Singh to DM me. Spoiler: he hasn’t.
It’s not just my attention span anymore; it’s my entire focus system that’s glitching. I’ll start a book and five minutes later I’m like, “Wait, did someone tag me in a meme?” My brain has gone from reading Agatha Christie to refreshing Instagram, as if it’s breaking news.
And honestly? It’s terrifying. Because it’s not about wasting time; it’s about forgetting how to sit still. How to enjoy something slow. How to exist without notifications, likes, or that one reel sound looping in your head.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I’ve thought about quitting. Going full detox, deleting the app, becoming “that mysterious girl who doesn’t use social media.” But then I remember I still want to be an influencer one day (don’t judge me), and those people literally live on the app. So, no, I’m not quitting; I'm just surviving.
Here’s what I’ve started doing instead: I set a 15-minute timer every time I open Instagram. Yup. Just fifteen minutes. It’s my way of saying, “Okay, brain, go touch grass.” No endless doomscrolling, no “just one more reel” lies. Fifteen minutes and we’re done.
Does it make me more productive? Debatable. I still end up switching to WhatsApp or texting random friends like, “wyd?” because my brain refuses to chill. But hey, at least I’m not rotting in Reels-land. Small wins, right?
So yeah, I’m not preaching a grand digital detox. I’m just learning to scroll with boundaries. To let my brain breathe a little between dopamine hits.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll actually finish that book. Or maybe I’ll end up watching another 17 reels about people who did finish books. Either way, I’m trying, one 15-minute timer at a time.
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