Entertaining myself to death
As cars whir by and birds are chirping outside, I am laying in bed and I tell myself "just one more video." Before I even realize it, two hours have passed. I have done nothing except consume content that further supports my beliefs.
The internet sucks now. Everything, anything, and everyone is a bot. We are screwed. Society is screwed. Kids are addicted to this, adults are addicted to this. We can't escape, we live in a surveillance state dystopia, lacking purpose other than waking up every day to consume and then consume some more...
I used to have an awful internet addiction, made wonderfully possible by abusive boyfriends, a dysfunctional family, and a boring remote job that paid well but had no meaning other than to make profits for The Big Company (trademark). My days were spent desperately searching for a quick laugh or giggle on YouTube or Reddit. Sometimes I would scroll on LinkedIn and compare myself to people that on the surface, seemed to be a lot more successful than me, and think "these people are so lame, selling themselves on social media just to get a job, peddling out meaningless content just so they can kiss a recruiter's ass..."
As a former internet addict, trying not to relapse feels impossible in our internet-ruled world. It feels impossible when you visit your family and no one has any hobbies, all you see and hear at the dinner table is some random movie playing in the background, thumbs flicking upward, eyes jetting back and forth between the huge 70-inch TV in the living room and these tiny screens. Conversations? You have to be crazy if that's something you expect from my family. Unless it's gossip, there is nothing to bond over. No talk of hopes and dreams. No talk of finding any sort of meaning in life or serving your community to make it better. Nothing. With every family visit, I wonder why I visited in the first place. May as well scroll with them, since there is nothing better to do. At least the family pets seem like they want to spend quality time with you.
I relapsed today. I spent about three hours mindlessly on the internet today. I sometimes justify to myself that "at least it wasn't AI brainrot" but truthfully, jumping between articles about how social media is ruining today's children and random Reddit posts isn't healthy for me, and deep down I know it but I stay on the internet anyway. I suppose it's because of "repetition causing neural pathways to entrench deeper" or something of that nature that I read in a book once about how to "change your life and your habits for good so you can do the things and feel good ALL THE TIME and never feel bad!"
I got my first smartphone at age 12, when I was in middle school, and over time as I developed intense depression in high school (because instead of dealing with bullies at school, I lived in the same house as them), I spent more and more of my time in front of a screen. High school was the worst four years of my life. All I did was B.S. my way through classes, and I suppose I had an aptitude for academics because I could pass any A.P. test without trouble. But I had no hobbies. I stopped singing, I stopped drawing, I stopped participating in team sports (well, I stopped doing sports because I hated the toxic competitiveness that came with it). Then college came around and because my parents screamed at me and lamented any adult decision I could possibly make that would help me develop a sense of autonomy or individual identity (like going to a school out of state) I settled for free community college close to home so I was "safe." When I wasn't working or doing homework, I was scrolling. As one of the few women in my major, I had little friends, I didn't have many people to connect with. My "high school sweetheart" boyfriend also lived online, he spent countless hours on the "random" board of 4chan (don't look any of this up) and we would bond over jokes about how he was abusing me and how I was only with him for a green card (I'm a U.S. citizen, but I'm brown) or some stupid meme video where we would repeat the meme verbatim to each other in funny voices.
Even as a child in elementary school I could never find any books that interested me, but on the internet there was Club Penguin, Neopets, and endless anime and YouTube videos to watch about my favorite video games. If I got bored of the internet I had my Nintendo DS filled with pirated games on an R4 Flash Cart (courtesy of my in-laws) where I could BE the main character. The world revolved around ME where I felt no discomfort as I navigated through these virtual worlds. I could solve puzzles, save the world, and do whatever I wanted to drown out the sounds of my parents screaming at each other in the other room.
I have more childhood memories of being in front of a screen than I do playing outside or being at school. If anything, much of my childhood is gone as I try to work through the trauma of the abuse I endured. If I don't remember any of it, did it really even happen? The vivid stories that I hear people tell of running around outside at the playground or park, or even riding their bike around their neighborhood - I just don't have them. I hardly remember anything, but I remember some of the creators that I watched. I remember the YouTube drama that ensued. I remember what the devices I used looked like. I remember when the house got Wi-Fi for the very first time and I immediately booted up Pokemon Pearl on my DS and joined the Global Trading System and traded my first Pokemon. I remember the lag from the online battles. I remember the music that I heard playing through the little DS speakers, almost by heart.
I often mourn the childhood I could have had.
I often wish that my parents monitored my internet usage more or restricted it entirely.
I often wish my parents spent quality time with me.
I often wish I wasn't hated for being born.
I am a child of the internet, because my parents weren't there for me.
Then I wake up, and I ask myself, is this really how things are supposed to be?