I I feel as if I have lost days of my life to digital. I’m an extrovert, but the near-constant communication on WhatsApp can be exhausting. I’m always worried about not being able to reply to everyone right away. Add to that the performance factor and worry that proving you care will be judged on the messages you send, and it can all become too much.
“Where did Lemona go?” one friend panicked when I found myself stunned while pressing deadlines, babysitting, and entertaining guests. With 248 unread messages piling up in just one group, including podcast-length audio notes, I felt like the bad guy for being absent. Sometimes I’m happy to be completely silent – because I was in an unnecessarily large group that was added without my consent. I’ve been going unnoticed for years in unsolicited selfies of people I barely know, forwarding messages that if I don’t forward further, I’m going to face some kind of disaster, but someone knows I’m lurking. When they found out I was there, they kicked me out in front of all 43 members. It was frustrating.
I’m not bold enough to completely “keep using the app,” but I’ve managed to significantly reduce my messages over the past few years. My freedom from digital management was gradual. It started with removing my “last seen” status. By doing so, not only did I free myself from my dependence on receiving replies, but I was also less in touch and less needy.
Since I don’t use apps as much, I’ve become more conscious of my time. Instead of getting caught up in the hamster wheel of responses, I created space for other things. Do your morning stretches instead of opening an app as soon as you open your eyes. regain one’s concentration read the actual book and Please finish it like before. I have also started knitting. I was able to knit an Ewok hood for my toddler niece. This took three years, but it probably would have taken five if we hadn’t reduced our commitment to WhatsApp. Taking a break from communication has cleared my cluttered head and allowed me to think more creatively. I’m also learning Korean on Duolingo.
Still, I fully appreciate the connection that WhatsApp provides. It’s a place where you can share prayers for your sick parents, lift up your friend’s spirits after a bad date, and hold on to your sorrows and frustrations while the world burns and humanity’s hopes look bleak. WhatsApp packs so many heavy emotions, intimate experiences, and different personalities, yet compresses complex thoughts and emotions into fast-talking conversations that can be easily misread. Masu. Perhaps its intensity and dichotomy – the pleasure and stress it gives me, the longing for connection and the flood of over-connection – is precisely why it’s a place where I feel overwhelmed.
I also considered deleting the app completely. But is it really worth sacrificing seeing a photo of your niece dressed as an Oompa Loompa on World Book Day? Can I really disconnect from my supportive cheerleading friends and enjoy the mundane details of life?
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I still need WhatsApp, but less than before. By being patient, I learned how to control my desires. I am finally learning how to release from acute fomo without experiencing it. Rather than strict selection, we adjusted the boundaries. My friends also lived up to their expectations, saying, “She will get back to you within 3-5 business days.” But by giving myself permission to not feel pressured, I began to enjoy a newfound freedom. Now I have to resist the yoke of a new app: the forced appeal of maintaining my Duolingo streak.
Source: www.theguardian.com
