Social media is a perpetual mental illness.

Note: this journal has little to do with mental illness, and the title is phrased ironically based on internet culture.

Is the internet some great escape from reality or an inevitable extension of our physical lives?

I find the internet fascinating.

But I also think social media is an absolutely terrible place nowadays. Yes, there is some value in building and maintaining an audience. And yes, social media does extend expression across new mediums.

But think of it this way:

Unlimited information washing the outer shell of our senses with crap doesn’t matter. So many people we simply don’t give a f*ck about. All while following temporary trends that make the mundane moments pass. A quick fix for boredom.

^ A type of boredom we manufacture and repeatedly pair with our devices.

I fill the void with my cell phone because it doesn’t make much sense to ride a bicycle or just sit with my thoughts. I spectate the flow of information across the web because interpreting physical social interactions requires much more energy. Don’t get me wrong – I do both.

I love getting attention in real life and sparking conversations with strangers, but the internet is endless. And despite its expansive feel, it is empty and hollow.

I miss the days when social media meant something.

Back in high school, kids were hooked on Snapchat and routinely interacted with people beyond their initial circle. Snap wasted so much time, but it made us kids feel social and immersed in an online version of high school.

Unfortunately, many people I see today are still stuck in high school – whether it be in their desire to climb invisible social ladders or prove that they’re cool. There was a time and place for Snap and other social platforms to make us feel okay with our insecurities.

But bringing this adolescent approach into adulthood is cute and silly. It is designed for wasting time and creating distractions. Social media, especially Snap, feels entirely different now.

I have grown, and now I see things for how they are. (I hope)

I ask myself why I scroll, but I can’t stop. The next post is likely interesting, so I keep on consuming more. All for nothing in the end.

Tweets and stories. Stories and tweets.

I rationalize this addiction by selling my artistic image. Or sharing my thoughts in an overly simplified way on Twitter.

To be frank, I do enjoy Instagram stories. I am reminded of my classmates who travel the world and of great artists who prepare to release new music. The stories provide clues on how others are living their lives and framing their image. It’s all a game.

Some think this online connectivity is a beautiful thing. Some put value in a new friend or a follow. But it’s all just noise in the end. Noise that keeps your phone buzzing and demanding attention like an itch on your body.

We aren’t actually that close with these online folks. Social media bends our perception of friendship; we might keep these friends or followers as digital souvenirs while maintaining weaker connections diluted by the lack of physical bonding.

This is how we normalize mediocre relationships. Physical gatherings have become too ‘complicated’.

I tell myself to go outside and get some fresh air because I need these reminders. My internal monologue gets stuck on the screen. I want more and more information – more inputs and outputs – to fulfill my mind’s thirst for stimulation. I begin by seeking intellectual stimuli and quickly settle for any stimuli.

Unfortunately, barely anything I see is truly invigorating beyond the initial state of entertainment. I pursue the information looking for depth but only come back with lost time.

I feel like a monkey.

Social media is like porn in its portrayal of unrealistic scenes and people doing the most optimized form of things. Posing for perfect pictures and scripting ideal narratives.

A staged representation of what likely won’t happen in your personal life.

The Act.

We celebrate the ‘authentic’ characters on these platforms, but it all seems so silly and staged. Think of a circus; we select our costumes before going on stage and change our demeanor depending on the scene.

Keeping up the act is fun for some – I enjoy it. But I doubt we evolved to put up with all this.

The ironic thing is that anonymous users provide the most honest reflection of human interaction. They hate, show envy, and skip filtering their thoughts. But they also love and obsessively support their idols (look into music fandoms on Twitter for reference).

These anon users hide their names and faces because they want to be honest for once without repercussions. They understand the benefits of a pure release of information without compromise.

Where am I going with this?

Just take a few days off social media and then return. You will suddenly understand why I’m calling social media a mental illness. Everyone is reacting and deflecting at the same time, contributing to a pile of content that sends young adults into depression.

In the end, I am also a hypocrite. I will share this piece of writing with strangers on Instagram and Twitter and then waste half an hour scrolling through some random bullsh*t.

My takeaway isn’t that you should quit social media.

Don’t miss out on all the cheap dopamine out there!

Instead, be aware of what it is and what it does to people like you and me. Navigate your life with these understandings and don’t let it stop you from expressing yourself.

If anything, use the sickening nature of these platforms to express yourself however you want within moral grounds.

If you’re feeling entrepreneurial, use your awareness of these dynamics to learn how to sell or conceive consumer products.

A good understanding of social media and its dynamic marketplaces defeats the purpose of a marketing degree.

Just find a way to attain some value out of this shallow environment. Unravel some positive redeemable qualities and justify your hours of usage.

If you enjoy this post, check out my MUSIC (click here).

Give my previous journal entry a read to learn how to Transmute heartbreak into creation.