Are you sure?

“Are you sure you want to permanently delete this account?”

I was engaging in old habits. What started as glances turned into hour-long sessions, and I found myself consumed by the brief hits of dopamine. I’d scroll and scroll, pausing when a photo or video caught my attention, only to quickly move on.

Doom scrolling was nothing new, not to me and certainly not to anyone who has used social media. I’ve written before about how these platforms can take over your life, and before you know it, you can’t sit down to dinner without having your phone within reach. 

I was laying in bed. My mood had been gloomy, much like the April weather that left raindrops on the windowsill. There was a documentary on, Our Social Dilemma, that I was half paying attention to as I mindlessly scrolled through endless videos. I glanced at the TV and was greeted with an image startling enough to captivate my full attention - something that’s quite hard to do these days.

A lifeless avatar was suspended in midair. In front of it were several screens, all playing videos and advertisements. As each video played, the avatar was pulled in a different direction, its attention fully locked in, demonstrating the level of control that these networks have over us. 

“If you’re not paying for the product, you are the product.”

I sat up. Surely, I already knew this. I had read just how negatively social media impacts us. I knew it was desensitizing us. I heard the staggering statistics on the effects of our mental well-being.

So, why did I need it?

I tried to be as honest as possible with myself. My first explanation was, of course, this blog. How would I reach people if not for making a new post every time I had written something new? Considering my account was private, this was a fairly weak argument. 

The next reason, and perhaps the one that I struggled with the most, was the connection to friends. Messages, memes, and videos were a daily occurrence. I had met people through this app that turned into real friendships. Without it, what would I be missing out on?

Ah, there it was. FOMO. The fear of missing out. When I thought about it, social media felt like another life. Sure, there was my real life, the one that took place right in front of me, the one that I existed in physically. But there was also this online life that felt completely separate. Withdrawing from this online life felt as though it was some kind of death. 

Then there was the ego boost. We can pretend we’re posting selfies for other reasons, even thinking of clever captions, but they can never really hide our true intent. I would be lying if I said

I didn’t check to see how many likes my selfie received after posting whichever one made the cut from the twenty pictures I took. 

My god, where would I get my validation from? I envisioned walking up to strangers in the street. “DO YOU LIKE ME?” “FOLLOW ME!” “CARE TO COMMENT??”

This opened up a whole other can of worms. Perhaps it would be best for a thirty-seven year old woman not to leave her delicate self-esteem in the hands of an online platform. I was inviting people to judge my appearance but I knew all I really wanted to hear were compliments. 

I pictured the avatar from the documentary, only this time, it was me. There, hanging in space, the screens in front of me went black. Would I take my attention off them and merge with my physical self, or would I slowly fade away? I grappled with the loss of this online life, one that felt as real as the world in front of me.

I sighed. There really was no reason to keep this account. The cons greatly outweighed the pros, something I had known for a long time. In the past, I had temporarily deleted it. This always felt so safe, and it gave me the thrill of getting offline with the combined safety net of being able to log back in and activate it, if I wanted to. And of course I always wanted to.

My finger hovered over the delete button. It took three different prompts and entering my password twice to get to this point - they were making it as difficult as possible, something they surely had given a lot of thought. I braced myself and used all of my willpower to tap my phone. Instantly, a message appeared:

Your account has been scheduled for deletion on May 9, 2025. Should you change your mind, simply log back into your account.

Ah! Of course. One last, month-long test to see if I would cave. They really gave people the chance to cling to their addictions. 

I turned my phone off and threw it in the bedside drawer. Would I last? Would I be able to not let my curiosity get the better of me? Could I make it through the withdrawal period without running back to this small, captivating device?

I guess we’ll see.