When I catch my 17-year-old twins, Felix and Harry, flicking through TikTok when they’re supposed to be doing homework, all hell breaks loose.
But it’s such a double standard, because the time I waste is embarrassing to admit. OK, it’s at least two and a half hours a day.
Nadia Cohen says all hell breaks loose when she catches her twins, 17, on TikTok, but admits she’s also a doomscrolling addict Credit: News Group Newspapers Ltd
In a bid to reclaim her life from the algorithm’s clutches, Nadia does a doomscrolling detox Credit: News Group Newspapers Ltd
My name is Nadia Cohen, and I’m a doomscrolling addict. And, according to new research, I’m going to die having spent almost five years of my life on this pointless and potentially harmful activity.
My right thumb’s developed a muscle memory that would put an Olympic athlete to shame, and my exasperated partner, John, complains that the most frequent view he gets is the top of my head as I hunch over my phone.
The content I consume varies from panic-inducing clips about global warming to endless debates about the crisis, interspersed with meal-prep tutorials that make me feel crap about my diet.
It causes me low-level , moments of real sadness, and it’s affecting my and productivity. And yet, I can’t stop.
“Droomscrolling often begins as something that feels relaxing or soothing, but it’s an open secret that algorithms are designed to keep us hooked,” explains counsellor and psychotherapist Georgina Sturmer.
“Their concern is not our wellbeing, it’s to keep us logged in for as long as possible. It gives just enough of a reward to keep us scrolling, but not enough true satisfaction for us to feel as if we can switch it off.”
Can I reclaim my life from the algorithm’s clutches? There’s only one way to find out. . .
DAY 1
It’s waiting for the kettle to boil for my morning cuppa when I first feel it.
A twitch in my thumb as I instinctively go to pick up my phone for no good reason.
I’d deliberately left it upstairs, rather than indulge my habit of starting the day bleakly watching a vid warning WW3 is just around the corner and feeling anxious about whether I should start stockpiling tins of beans.
I decide to cut any temptation dead by going to the office phoneless for the first time in decades.
Every moment I find myself with nothing to do – waiting for the lift, heading out for a sandwich at lunchtime – my hand dives into my pocket to reach for it.
Without my “hit” I feel nervy and disconnected. As Georgina says: “The more we turn to it to keep us stimulated, the harder we find it to be genuinely bored.
“And yet we know being bored is actually important – being alone with our thoughts, having the space to be creative.”
DAY 2
On day 2, Nadia spent a full hour giving herself a pedicure at night Credit: News Group Newspapers Ltd
My usual bedtime routine is a quick cleanse and moisturise, PJs on, then dive into bed for a two-hour scroll that often leaves me wired.
It’s not uncommon for me to then lie awake for hours ruminating about mortgage rates, thanks to a financial vlogger I’ve been watching, or feeling guilty about booking a holiday instead of giving the to a donkey whose tear-jerking account I’ve been following religiously.
Not tonight! Instead, I spend a full hour giving myself a pedicure and Korean glass skin facial (ironically, I was influenced to buy the products by a TikToker). Then I start the book on my bedside table that’s been a glorified coaster for six months.
I have a moment wondering how life is at the donkey sanctuary, but resist the urge to check. When my head hits the pillow, I notice how much calmer my brain is, and I sleep blissfully.
DAY 3
On day 4 she was actually present during dinner time, and the family chatted properly at the table Credit: News Group Newspapers Ltd
Dinner time is usually a four-way battle between me sneaking peeks at Insta, Felix and Harry glued to skateboarding videos, and John keeping one eye on the sport.
Tonight, I’m actually present. I cook a family-fave lasagne from scratch and enjoy absorbing myself in that process, instead of getting distracted by scrolling, or snapping at anyone who dares interrupt my vids.
The others offer to put their away out of solidarity, and we sit at the table and chat properly, planning the boys’ upcoming birthday party instead of dipping in and out of digital distractions.
I realise with a pang of guilt that family life has been passing me by, as I’ve been treating it as background noise for my scrolling addiction.
Worse still, having laid the blame for the boys’ own phone habits at the door of social media bosses, I wonder if I’ve been setting a poor example.
DAY 4
I’ve been doing so well, but today I fall off the wagon. Desperate for a hit of content, I find myself becoming that creepy person on the Tube, peering over a stranger’s shoulder to sneak a glimpse of whatever nonsense she’s flicking through.
I need a fix so badly, I don’t even care what it is – a recipe for sourdough, a political rant, how to sculpt my glutes… I just need the pixels.
I feel mortified as my fellow commuter glares at me like I’m a total weirdo and I realise with a shudder what a slave to the algorithm I’ve become.
DAY 5
It’s Saturday morning, and knowing I have so much extra time on my hands – which I would normally squander doomscrolling on the sofa – I feel determined to put it to good use.
I go to a class I’ve been meaning to try, then use my phone for
its original purpose and ring a friend. We have a proper catch-up, instead of communicating by sending each other daft videos of women stalking their cheating husbands.
I end the day clearing out the long-neglected cupboard under the sink, before John and I head out for dinner.
Although not averse to a spot of scrolling himself, he’s nowhere near as hooked as I am, and he tells me my is having such a positive effect on my mood – I’m a much more fun and present person to be around. I end the day feeling productive, energetic and more in control.
Nadia says her week has been a wake-up call, and although she won’t be ditching her phone, she plans to install an app that will restrict access to her fave scrolling spots Credit: News Group Newspapers Ltd The Verdict
This week has been a wake-up call. I feel mortified about my withdrawal symptoms, like the twitchy thumb and edginess.
But I’m happy about the better use of my time and the impact on my physical and mental health, and my relationships.
“We might think social media keeps us connected with others. However, the reality is often leaves us feeling more isolated than before we started,” says Georgina, and she’s not wrong.
I’m not ditching my phone, but I plan to install an app that will restrict access to my fave scrolling spots, until it becomes normalised not to head to them so frequently.
Yes, it’s important to know what’s going on in the world, but no good is coming from my compulsive consumption of negative content. Life’s too short for doomscrolling (although I’ll never abandon the donkeys).
Eze Chidiebere Paul
I'm dedicated to creating high-quality content that informs, inspires, and delights. If you have any questions or suggestions, don't hesitate to get in touch. Happy reading!
