I Was a Social Media Addict. Here's What 18 Months Off Actually Looks Like.

Hi, I’m Chloe Markham, and I’m a former social media addict. 

I remember one of the final posts I got tangled in before I left. A woman wearing a bikini on the beach with visible armpit hair. She was having a nice time. Not sure her caption even mentioned her armpit hair. But the comments. The comments! And the outrage I felt that so many (men, mostly) felt it necessary to comment so viciously on her body. 

That outrage was one of the final straws and I quit not long after. Now, a year and a half later, I’m safe in the knowledge that social media rotted my brain. And I’m still healing from it. 

Here’s how it affected me:

Almost constant outrage.

Daily pockets of shit I didn’t invite into my life making me furious at the state of the world. Sure, we still have emotionally-stunted chumps in power, and sure, the manosphere exists, but now I get to decide when I watch the docs or the news. It’s no longer a part of my casual ‘entertaining’ scroll. And I’m enormously better off for it.

It destroyed my attention span.

When I first quit, I didn’t realise how bad it was. I couldn’t sit down for even 15 minutes and read a book without picking up my phone. I couldn’t stand in line without reaching for it. And when I’d removed the apps from my phone but not quite gone the whole way, I’d end a work session with 30 minutes deep inside the algorithm on my laptop. I couldn’t be bored, every 2 or 3 seconds I had a fresh reel, a fresh post, a new thing to be wooed by or outraged at. That emotional rollercoaster is a disaster for our nervous systems.

The comparison issue.

Of course we compare to everyone else on our feeds. Are we having as good a time as Kate who’s swanned off to the south of France? Who posts endlessly about it? There’s not a human alive who’s having a good a time as Kate is on her feed. Not even Kate. But I got sucked in anyway. My body’s not good enough, my yoga practice certainly isn’t good enough, I’m not pretty enough, rich enough, successful enough, and I don’t have any of the right outfits. It was a constant, low-level drip of I’m-not-good-enough every single time I dropped in. And that leads me on to…

The damn adverts.

Selling me things that would solve all my problems. They made me feel like I was constantly on a treadmill of need. Not to get too conspiracy-theorist on you, but social media’s become a capitalist’s wet dream. Not only blatant ads, but sneaky ads by ‘influencers’, all telling you you’re not good enough unless you have this or that. Keeping us working hard, spending hard, and wondering why our souls have disappeared.

The algorithm.

A friend of mine just ran an experiment on his (popular) Instagram feed: what if he posts more divisive content? You guessed it: a significant uptick in engagement. If influencers and social-media fans are just creating for the algorithm, content becomes more dulled down, more divisive, less thoughtful or creative or world-bettering. Arguably, the manosphere was born from men wanting to be as divisive as possible for ultimate levels of engagement. Before long, they’re believing their own ‘content’ and the world’s a darker place for it.

‘Content’.

For a while it made me believe, being self-employed, that content was all I needed to create — vacuous tosh that got me in front of more people so my business would grow. I tried this for the best part of a decade. And not only did I feel like a sell-out, but it didn’t work well. Now, I’m finally leaning into my actual skillset: no content, just writing, and my head and my business has never been happier.

And it’s not just me. The science is clear. Social media is linked to depression, stress, anxiety, and reduced life satisfaction. It’s tied to impulsivity, risky behaviours, and reduced psychological resilience. It fucks with our sleep, our blood pressure, our posture, our vision, and gives us headaches and carpal tunnel. 

But it’s not that bad, right? 😳

Instead of missing out, a life without traditional social media has given me more than I could imagine. More space, a slower tempo, and a better view of reality. My attention span is on her way back to me, I’m reading more books than ever, and movies are a single-screened delight. 

If you’re hesitant to leave them completely, I get it. Maybe you want to keep tabs on your ex (healthy), maybe it’s those gardening videos, or photos of puppies in outfits… but read the science again. Are those reasons enough to reduce your life satisfaction and mess with your sleep? 

If our mission is to live more joyfully, and mine certainly is, then Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok serve no place in our lives.

If you’re ready to join me in the post-social-media smug club, here’s a way out:

1. Tell your friends you’re leaving the apps, maybe get an accountability buddy, and line up some good books or TV shows (for trash that doesn’t need much attention-span, I recommend the Fourth Wing series — fairy smut, but excellent fair smut). 

2. Change your passwords to something obscure you can’t remember, save them in a hard-to-access note, and delete the apps. You’re too smart for time-limits and blockers.

3. Install Newsfeed Eradicator on your desktop (get it for Chrome here, it's also available for other browsers).

4. Practice journalling or deeper breathing when the impulse arrives. Becoming mindful about your triggers and restructuring your thoughts is a proven way to support social media addiction. 

Our life is amazingly short. One day, if we’re lucky, we’ll be that old lady needing help in the supermarket or messing up the TV settings. This moment is the most wonderful, vibrant, magic-making moment we’ll ever get. Do we really want to waste it doomscrolling in a capitalist black hole? Or do we want to read some fairy smut and get our attention span back?  

I know how I’m spending my time today…

Here’s to your joy,

Chloe

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