By Arielle Nguyen
While writing this article, I checked my phone so I could note my average screen time last week. It was unsuccessful; I started scrolling through Instagram instead.
My average screen time last week was six hours, in case you wanted to know. But turns out, I wasn’t alone in drowning myself in entertainment. At Fountain Valley High School, I sent out a survey that gathered information about screen time to a small group of students, who averaged seven hours of screen time per week, and guess what? The most frequently used apps were social media, including Instagram, TikTok and YouTube.
At first, I was stunned by the control that our devices held on us, but then again, I can’t go anywhere without my phone nowadays. Even if it’s just from one room of my home to another or for the most mundane of tasks — washing dishes for five minutes or taking out the trash — I could not resist my phone’s grip on me.
My everyday life is molded around technological advances. It’s not often that I don’t completely rearrange my plans based on something that I saw on my phone. Rumors going around on social media that a pop culture figure was pregnant? Yeah, I’d believe it, and I’ll be sure to tell my friends all about it. The Weather app reports that the chance of rain is slim but not zero? Guess I’m going out in a full winter suit. Maybe I’m gullible, or maybe I’m just too reliant on my phone.
Is there a new fashion trend out on TikTok? I can’t wait for it to spread to my Instagram and Pinterest. I can’t wait for it to be all in my face … even though I hate it so much! But it’s everywhere … the first choice in my friends’ closet, the first photos I see on my phone. Suddenly, I feel so isolated and alone. Should I blend in and be identical to everyone else, or should I stand out and risk missing out?
Well, I guess it’s time to replace my closet.
During these changes to establish my identity or gain independence, my smartphone becomes indispensable. And although our society is working towards a more digitized future, there’s something dystopian with the way we connect with people. Hours spent texting friends or scrolling through Instagram ironically disconnect us from real life. Time drains away, our brains rot and, suddenly, we’re chronically online.
Being chronically online refers to people whose personalities revolve around internet memes, culture and slang due to prolonged time online. It’s not healthy — I realized I started posting more on Instagram just to feel something. I’m definitely chronically online, and I need to stop.
But at the same time, I try so hard to be connected to my peers, whether it be through texting on social media platforms or liking the same music, clothing or brands. I become obsessed with the idea of a persona that I could become, so much so that I become overwhelmed when I don’t achieve close to this. I’ve become disconnected from an overconsumption of connection. Without this sense of togetherness, who would I be?
Well, I’d definitely get more sleep. Lately, I’ve been spending hours scrolling on my phone when I should be sleeping, whether it be on Instagram, TikTok or staying up-to-date on trends. Why would I want to miss out?
I’ve noticed that through this desire to fit in, I’ve lost myself in the process. I’ve grown paranoid. I can’t stay awake at school, I can’t concentrate during activities and I can’t process any bit of information spoken to me (sorry to all my friends!).
I can’t just throw away my phone, however. We’re becoming a civilization that depends on the latest technology, and, if I give this up, then I might as well vanish off the face of the Earth.
I dislike that I always scroll on my phone for that quick hit of dopamine, but in this world, what other choice do I have? Sure, there’s the occasional hobby, but my phone has always been so convenient, so close, so … addicting.
Surely, another hour cradling that rotten piece of glass wouldn’t hurt.
