Social Media Addiction: My Story and How I’m Taking Back My Life

There was a time when I chose to escape. I didn’t understand it at the time, but I know now: I was using social media to avoid facing my reality. At that point in my life, everything felt overwhelming. I was in an emotionally abusive relationship, and my mental health was deteriorating. The weight of that reality was too heavy for me to carry, and so, I chose to numb myself. I turned to social media, hoping that by diving into an endless stream of content, I could forget the life I was living, even if just for a few moments.

It wasn’t about the content itself — it wasn’t the videos, the photos, the stories, or even the mindless scrolling. It was the escape. It was a way for me to disconnect from the suffocating reality around me. I didn’t want to face the pain, the hurt, the chaos in my life. The moment I picked up my phone, I could temporarily forget it all. The scroll would carry me away, somewhere far from the emotional turmoil I was in.

For a while, it worked. Social media became a refuge. It felt easier than dealing with the discomfort, the sadness, the frustration that I couldn’t seem to shake. But, what I didn’t realize back then is something I understand now — escape doesn’t heal. It only delays the inevitable. It keeps you in a state of avoidance, and the more you avoid, the longer the healing takes.

I spent countless hours lost in the feed. I didn’t even realize how much time I was wasting. It became a habit, a coping mechanism that was so ingrained in my routine that I didn’t even question it. I didn’t ask myself why I was scrolling or if there was something more productive I could do. Scrolling became a part of me. But that’s the thing about avoidance — it’s sneaky. It creeps into your life without you even realizing the toll it’s taking on you.

Four years later, I’m still living with the consequences of those choices. The hours I spent scrolling — I can’t get them back. The time I wasted, the energy I gave away, the connections I neglected, and the things I could have done with that time — it all adds up. I often find myself wondering: What would my life look like now if I hadn’t chosen to escape?

But here's the thing I’ve learned: We can’t change the past. The important part is what we do with the present and the future. And the journey to reclaim my time, focus, and life has been anything but easy.

I’ve tried to break free from the cycle before. I’ve deleted the app, only to return weeks later, doing the same thing again. I’ve set time limits, thinking that would work. But time and time again, I’d break them. I’d tell myself, Just five more minutes, and before I knew it, hours had passed. I’d make excuses, telling myself that I needed the distraction or that it would just be for a short while.

Each time I relapsed, I felt the guilt settle in. I knew I was wasting my time, I knew I wasn’t living in the present, but I couldn’t stop myself. The compulsion to scroll, to numb myself, was stronger than my willpower to break free. The cycle continued — delete, limit, break. Over and over again.

It wasn’t just the app. It was the habit, the mindset, the avoidance that I had created. The problem wasn’t just about controlling the scrolling; it was about understanding why I turned to it in the first place. I had to face the real issue: I was avoiding my own discomfort. I was escaping because I didn’t want to deal with the pain and the challenges in my life. I had trained myself to numb those feelings with a distraction.

But here’s the thing: Healing doesn’t come from avoiding the pain. It comes from sitting with it, feeling it, and understanding it. Only then can you move through it. Only then can you grow. The discomfort, the pain, the discomfort of being with yourself — it’s all part of the journey. You can’t avoid it forever. Eventually, it catches up with you. And when it does, you have two choices: face it or keep running.

So, I made a decision. I decided that instead of fighting against myself, I’d learn to work with myself. I wasn’t going to beat myself up over the scrolls I had lost. I wasn’t going to hate myself for slipping back into old habits. I was going to face the discomfort, the pain, the feelings I had been running from. I was going to understand myself better so that I could stop making choices that hurt me.

I started small. I didn’t expect to change overnight, but I wanted to make progress. Instead of deleting the app or setting a time limit that I knew I would break, I began creating a new routine for myself. I started by replacing the scroll with something else, something that would help me stay grounded. Meditation, journaling, reading — these things became anchors in my day. Slowly, the urge to escape lessened. And when the urge did come up, I allowed myself to feel the discomfort instead of running from it.

I started recognizing the patterns within myself. I began asking myself questions like, Why am I scrolling right now? What am I avoiding? I noticed how easy it was to slip into the habit, but I also realized that each time I chose something else, I was strengthening my ability to stay present.

It hasn’t been perfect, and I’m not “cured.” There are still moments when I find myself scrolling aimlessly, especially when the weight of life feels too much. But now, I’m more aware of it. I catch myself, and I remind myself that it’s okay to feel the discomfort. It’s okay to sit in it. It’s part of healing.

But here's the most important lesson I’ve learned: It’s not about perfection; it’s about progress. It’s about making better choices, one small step at a time. It’s about facing your discomfort, learning to be present with yourself, and creating new patterns that serve you better.

I am still healing, still reclaiming my time, my focus, and my life. But every small step I take is a victory. Every time I choose to be present instead of scrolling, I am telling myself that I am worth it. I am telling myself that I am no longer running from my pain, but learning to face it.

The journey is long, and there will be setbacks. But I trust that I am on the right path. I trust that as I continue to choose presence, as I continue to reclaim my time and energy, I will become stronger, more connected to myself, and more aligned with the life I truly want to live.

The scrolling was never the problem.
It was what I was running from.

And now, I’m learning to stand still.