On 12 new things I've brought into my life to beat my phone addiction
Breaking phone addiction is hard, so I'm consciously doing things to spend less time with my hands around that piece of black plastic and glass. I wanted to share them with you.
My addiction to my phone has got so bad that that a few weeks ago, I woke with a sharp pain in my thumb and a dull ache in my shoulder which I’d got from answering messages and scrolling. Right then, I knew something had to change between me and this piece of black plastic and glass I hold so tight. So today I want to share with you some of the things I do to reduce my phone addiction. This is a collection of things that work for me, that are either preventative, in that they block or remove my phone from my hands, or creative, in the sense that they replace my addiction with something pleasurable and even joyful which put me in a place of flow or delight where I don’t reach for my phone - don’t even think about my phone. I’m trying to do things that cost almost nothing, consciously bring pleasure into my life, and are the polar opposite of mindless scrolling. These are things that nurture my creativity, appeal to me emotionally, that bring sensual pleasure, that are companionable so I can do them with my kids, or even a friend, and that are lighthearted and fun.
I’ve got to this place because my relationship with my phone is totally unhealthy, and I’d put money on the fact your relationship with your phone is probably pretty intense, too.
Does this sound familiar? Your phone is the only thing that’s always close to you. You take it to the bathroom, have it near you when you cook, can reach for it in the car and sleep close to it. You hold it in the queue at the grocery store. You touch your phone many, many more times a day than you reach out and, say, hug your partner, or kiss your child, or give your friend a squeeze. When you don’t know where it is, even for a few moments, you feel a little bit of panic inside you. If you lost it for a few hours you’d turn your house upside down looking for it.
Like all addictions, my phone makes me lie. I lie to myself that I "need my phone for work” which is sometimes true but is also a lie I use to justify my addiction. And this is how I’ll often spend a lot of time every day: scrolling and scrolling, while jumping between social media and news, vanishing into a hole of videos about how the Republican party are dismantling reproductive rights, then giving myself a break by checking the weather (in Oxfordshire as well as DC), as even that gives me a little buzz, then I jump back to socials before thinking about actual work, so I have a quick look at my email, although not too long on email as it’s too light on the dopamine, so before long I dive back into socials to flood my brain with a momentary hit of something strong, completing a quick on-line survey which confirms I have ADHD (maybe) and then a reel about supper pops up so I’ll google a recipe to use up those chicken thighs and some red peppers that have been in the fridge too long, and then because my brain is all revved up and excited I’ll reward myself by looking at that purple cardigan I really, really want and before I know it I’m buying a cheesecloth shirt because isn’t it almost summer and anyway surely, surely there is something I can buy somewhere in my phone that’s going to take away this latent phone-induced mania which sits alongside the pervasive ambient existential dread which never really goes away? Surely another purple cardigan or a summer top or a special type of artisan candle holder is going to bring all the parts of my life together I don’t understand and solve the puzzle about how to make my life work properly and feel good? Surely this purple jersey is going to take away the dread and rage I feel every time I see, especially, JD Vance’s terribly smug and disgustingly self-satisfied face? Surely?
No, Clover, definitely not. Definitely, definitely not.
The cardigan and the candle holder are not going to detract from the fact that there is something deeply unsettling about JD Vance. Or, actually, maybe they are - maybe the purple cardigan is going to make you feel a little bit good for a little bit of time, and the candle holder will give you a tiny buzz before it arrives and you imagine it on the kitchen table, but you cannot lean into cardigans and candleholders to cancel out the darkness that being on your phone makes you feel.
Because it is dark, isn’t it? After a great big phone binge I feel tired, annoyed, disconnected, confused, angry, despairing, jealous and upset. And since I woke up with all that pain in my hand a few weeks ago, my physical body hurts too. My stupid phone addiction has given me stupid RSI or even possibly arthritis in my thumb and maybe even my shoulder too.
You see? Really bad.
The great writer Annie Dillard said “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
And here is the thing: I do not want to look back and realise I’ve spent my days, and so my life, staring angrily at my phone.
But I also know - we all know - that this is not just my fault. Just like alcohol or tobacco, this little piece of black and grey plastic is designed to be addictive. Simply putting it in my bag, or switching it off, doesn’t break my addiction. Even when it’s switched off, or left upstairs (but oh no, please, please don’t make me leave it in a different room!!!) I can hear it and feel it, inside my psyche, calling for me, like it’s somehow branded into my brain.
At the moment, I’m trying to un-brand my brain, to break my addiction by finding things that block the phone from my life, but also replace the moments I instinctively reach for it with other things which bring delight. In DC, I’m finding delight in new places, which is helping me break that instinct to hold my phone. Here they are. I hope this little list might help you find a few bright chinks of joy, if your life has got a bit black with the outline of your phone: