By skyforbes 
It started when I tried to double-tap a photo… in my camera roll. That’s when I knew: I needed a break.
No likes, no algorithm, just me, alone with my offline thoughts — which, as it turns out, are kind of awkward and way too loud. But somewhere between the 3-hour screen time reports and the muscle memory of checking Instagram between brushing my teeth and forgetting why I walked into the kitchen, something had to give.
So, I did the unthinkable: I logged out.
The doomscroll spiral: when social media fuels anxiety
Let me paint you a picture: it’s 11:47 PM. I’m lying in bed, half-slumped like a sock puppet, watching a video of a guy power-washing a crusty patio while a tiny hamster bakes cupcakes in the corner of the screen. My eyes are dry. My soul is drier. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I need to sleep. Instead, I’m waiting to see what the hamster does next.
This was my nightly ritual. TikTok, Instagram, repeat. An endless loop of micro-hits of dopamine and low-grade anxiety. Somehow, the apps designed to…