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I deleted Instagram and with that, a world that exists within it disappeared. The people I follow, the people who follow me, things I look forward to, videos I laugh with, faces I long to see, places I dream of…all vanished into thin air. I am sitting at my desk staring outside the window, while everything that was a part of me virtually died. Nothing changed in me or outside of me. A slight heaviness dropped. The phone is lying there, I don’t think I will pick it up anytime soon unless I get a call, which is unlikely.
Isn’t it a little like death? You vanish and everything that’s you disappears with you. Nothing changes outside. Like a flicker of light, it’s here and now gone. When I die will you crave for me and want to download me again?
I have been thinking of doing it for a long time, removing Instagram, but I wasn’t sure why. Was it because I was addicted to doom-scrolling or was I avoiding something that needed by pressing attention? That we might never know.
But is Instagram or social media the actual problem? What are we running away from? The problem is deeper and the solution is superficial.
