#data detox

datadetox.myshadow.org

A great place to start if you’re wanting to dip your toes in the great mess that are privacy issues in the internet.

Especially relevant at this moment, after the scandals involving facebook and cambridge analytica.

I also highly recommend these two articles:

https://medium.com/privacy-international/cambridge-analytica-explained-data-and-elections-6d4e06549491

It’s been known from my posts on social media that I am now, four days without my smartphone. In a feverish fit of what I assume was an epic battle between my obliterated self, and a Hungarian Horntailed dragon, I destroyed my poor, dutiful iPhone 5C: also known as Nymeria. I have been hesitant in getting a new one. Partially because I don’t have an upgrade on my account with Verizon so I’ll have to pay full retail for a phone I’ll probably presumably destroy again; but also, because I think it’s time for a data detox. In the time since destroying my phone, I’ve enjoyed a feeling I haven’t had in a long time. Lack of boredom. I never realized that in the span of a few short years, I had, though my smart phone, accidently trained my brain into being the worst possible version of myself. People I care about, I mean, REALLY care about, like best friends and boyfriend, I had grown bored of them. It’s not their fault at all. It’s all mine. I have been vile, and unfeeling to everyone around me, and I’m the person I always hated. The person who is always lonely and sad, surrounded by people who care for them, but the people that love me aren’t “the people I want”. Which is complete and utter bullshit. I didn’t get this far in my life, without the people that love me. So why, thanks to a small and annoying piece of plastic, had I managed to almost implode my life from the inside out?

I remember a time that I could call as my “addiction tipping point”. When it stopped being a funny personality quirk of mine, like being a bad driver or something, into full-blown ruining my life. I was to meet at an old familiar bar with one of my oldest best friends, which I hadn’t talked to in person in a very, long time. I’ve moved several states from my hometown shortly after graduating high school, so the rare opportunities to enjoy people I’ve managed to keep as friends is something I could never pass up. Though a nagging and common voice grinded at me as I began getting ready to meet her at the bar. “Marissa’s party is tonight isn’t it? Let’s check Facebook… ah okay, here we go. Well the event page says that it starts at like 8:30, but no one will really be there until a little past 10. So if I go ahead and make sure that I have a change of flats in my purse, I can ditch the bar if it’s not fun, then go to the party, then I can uber…. BLAH BLAH BLAH BLAH”. What all of that bullshit culminated to was the fact that I was making back-up plans for back-up plans because I was so sure I could run from the idea of having a boring or weird moment while out with an old friend. I knew that I could leave her whenever I wanted (usually with the old “I have work in the morning” bit. Always a great seller). If I felt like it. I became a borderline sociopath with my plans, with how much empathy I lacked. I was ‘chasing the dragon’ of lacking any real human connection. I treated making plans with friends the way serial daters treat the dating game. I only wanted the fun parts of going out. The first burst of energy in a house part when the music is louder, and everyone’s buzzed. Or that sweet spot in a bar around 11:30-midnight when everyone is really getting to talking and having a good time. Like a serial dater dumps someone as soon as the “honeymoon phase” is over, I too, would ditch my friends when the fun began to wind down. I couldn’t possibly imagine having a quiet and honest moment with anyone. I didn’t just avoid the deep end of conversation and living, but I avoided human connections. And I couldn’t describe the crippling loneliness that comes from never being anything but shallow, and flaky. By my own fault. Having the freedom of making decisions without the worry of repercussions turned me into a monster.

And this is where that moment of realization has led us. Meeting an old friend for a drink. The staple of social interactions in your 20’s and 30’s. When I left my home, and met my old friend, it only took two beers for her to start telling me about her recent most break-up. We’re in our 20’s just recently out of college, so, I mean, who hasn’t gone through a break up recently? Well, in the middle of her cathartic release on her part of built up frustration and worry, I pulled the biggest dick move, I could possibly muster. I pulled out my phone, and took a picture of the beer I was drinking, and posted it to Instagram. I even tagged her in it. She was bearing her soul to me, on how pained she felt, and how poorly she was treated. And I not only could not even maintain eye contact or a half-assed word of encouragement, but I was almost rude to her. “Uh, I mean, I’m listening. So don’t be so sensitive”. I might as well have been a “war on drugs” early 90’s cartoon character. But instead of being strung out on smack being a dumpster on 104th, I was a Gollum-like creature protecting my precious. Guarding and alienating myself from people with the use of a wad of very expensive plastic and wires. I don’t know how to apologize for something I now know I was addicted to, but it’s not recognized as an addiction. Is it just a lack of willpower? “Just put down your phone” or “just unplug” that’s what I am told to do. But the fear and anxiety that throbs in my body in not knowing what everyone else is doing. “Am I being left out of something?” or “What if I miss something and look like an idiot because I don’t know something?” The terror I felt without my phone was palpable.

I’m not bored anymore. How strange it is to not feel the kind of boredom that comes from having a smart phone. I’m now content with waiting. Already, in four days, my patience levels are so much higher. Take this scenario: I went out to lunch with my dad yesterday. He had to go swing by the grocery and pick up a few things. I decided to stay in the car, because I had no business in spending money. I spent 15-20 minutes, sitting in a car alone, with just the radio to keep me company. And I was fine. Nothing changed in the world. I didn’t need to bury myself in Facebook and twitter for a small span of minutes only to be listless and restless. I just people watched, and enjoyed a bit of quiet time to myself. I am realizing that I don’t NEED my phone like I keep assuming I do. I don’t need music playing while I’m in the shower. I don’t need to check twitter every hour to play more hashtag games. I may have thought about how pretty yellow accents in a post-modern decorated living room would look good with grey walls. But I don’t need to look it up, while my friend is telling me about their latest work drama. I don’t have to be part of some idiots comment on a news article online. I don’t have to listen to the latest podcasts. I don’t have to be on the cutting edge of stuff, all the time. I can enjoy my own life away from the internet.

I spent the night with my boyfriend, last night and in the morning, I did something I hadn’t done since we spent our first night together. Instead of detangling myself from him, and grabbing my phone, immediately checking up on the lives of people whom I’m barely acquainted with, I did something amazing. I rolled over, buried myself deeper in his arms, and I went back to sleep. The thing that gets lost when it comes to being on your phone all the time? Moments that you can’t tweet about because to describe the feeling is almost cheapening the whole thing. I had forgotten how it felt to lay down, shut the fuck up, and feel loved. So, here is my assessment of my fourth day without my phone.