THE DEAD ME SCROLLS

I am addicted. ?No, not to alcohol, nicotine, drugs or even chocolate. My addiction is to something far more subtle, yet just as consuming: scrolling. ?I wake up, reach for my phone, and tell myself it’ll just be a quick glance. But forty-five minutes later, I’m still scrolling, still consuming, still lost in a digital trance.

It started innocently, like any addiction. The way an alcoholic begins with a casual drink that slowly morphs into a necessity, I started by checking the weather or catching up on the news –important info, right? ?But somewhere along the way, I slipped. I found myself pulled deeper, transported to absurd corners of the internet, from Saturday Night Live sketches of US presidential candidates, to watching Cindy the baboon’s life in the Western Cape.

Now, I stand here, compelled to admit I’m hooked.? Not on a substance, but of endless browsing, surfing and scrolling. ?I’m not alone in this. ?Friends I’ve spoken to share this affliction; they, too, reach for their phones first thing in the morning or when they have a pause, unable to break free until hours have vanished into the digital void.? It’s an extension of FOMO – the fear of missing out.?? What might I not see if I don’t search this very minute?? And how I panic when a saved site is temporarily down or worse still, removed.?

I don’t know quite when it started. ?Normally, I’m a 5 o’clock riser — part of that early bird gets the worm club — using those early hours for serious thinking and learning. ?But instead of springing out of bed and jumping into the shower, I now find myself staring at my phone. ?What started as a quick check has taken over, consuming precious morning hours that were once devoted to things that truly mattered.

Like the chocoholic reaching for one more piece, the coke addict taking one more line, or the alcoholic pouring that last drink, I promise myself it’s just one more swipe. ?Just one more. ?The allure is always there — the idea that the next scroll, the next hit, will be the one that finally satisfies. ?But, of course, it never does. ?One search leads to another and before you know it, it’s 6:45. ?The two precious hours I’d locked in for deep thinking and meaningful work have been spent on drivel, with no return whatsoever—time gone forever, never to be reclaimed.

This compulsion isn’t entirely our fault. ?The dopamine reward system in our brains plays a crucial role in addiction, whether it’s to alcohol, nicotine, or, yes, our screens. ?With each scroll, we’re seeking out that dopamine hit, the rush that comes from seeing something novel, entertaining, or emotionally charged. ?In this digital era, we’re constantly bombarded with content, triggering dopamine releases that make us crave more.

To really understand the scope of this issue, consider that studies show that the average person spends over 2.5 hours per day on social media, amounting to almost 38 days per year lost to the scroll. ?Among younger users, this figure is even higher. And it’s no coincidence that mental health experts are now linking excessive screen time to increased anxiety, depression, and decreased productivity. ?Recent statistics on social media usage, as well as data on the impact of excessive screen time on mental health and productivity, underscore just how serious this is. ?What started as an occasional distraction has evolved into a full-blown epidemic, and our digital addictions are taking a serious toll on our well-being.

This isn’t lost on me, and it’s made me reflect on why I joined the 5 o’clock club in the first place. ?It all started after a coaching session where I admitted to my coach that I didn’t have enough time to work on “important stuff”. ?So, together, we came up with the idea to carve out early morning hours just for that — one dedicated task that was deeply important to me. ?I needed to create space for something meaningful. ?But here I am, letting this precious time be taken over by a meaningless activity, scrolling through an endless feed of total trivia, ?instead of doing the things that truly matter. ?It’s astounding how easy it is to get sucked into unproductive, unhelpful habits.

The challenge now is reclaiming my time. ?I also need to confront the lie I’ve been telling myself—that I don’t have time. ?I do have time, and I have proven I have two hours of it which I was okay to waste every morning. ?Using time is a choice. ?How I use it is entirely up to me but? I need to remind myself to choose it wisely, to devote those two morning hours to things that truly matter, whether it’s learning, watching a sunrise, or anything else that nurtures my soul — and not chasing the quick highs of social media, like watching another Darryl Anka TikTok (aka Bashir), the physical extraterrestrial, sharing profound insights about the universe and human consciousness ?(I know, don’t ask!).

As I write this, at 5:45 a.m. Coincidentally, I’m imagining a return to my more productive self. ?Today, I’m starting my day not by scrolling but by writing these words and contemplating a future where I might watch the sunrise, meditate, or simply savour a quiet, contemplative moment.? ?It’s a simple vision, but one that feels increasingly out of reach, as I become more entrenched in the digital world.

There are solutions, undoubtedly. Whether it’s by resetting my priorities, planning what not to do, setting strict screen-time limits, just as they recommend on gambling sites – another insidious, online form of addiction - or adopting digital detoxes, ?I have the tools. ?But, as with any addiction, the first step is to stand up and acknowledge the problem. ?So, here I am, admitting my addiction—not to alcohol or drugs, but to the infinite scroll. ?And like any addict, I’m ready to take the first step toward recovery.?

“My name is Stuart and I am an addict!”