A journal entry reflecting on what I learned from this lesson in regard to my own journey to addiction.

I was born in the seventies, a teen in the eighties, a wife and mom in the nineties, a graduate, and migrant to New Zealand in the noughties, a Master of Tourism in the tens, and a migrant to Australia and a grandmother in the twenties. Life was always busy, but sometime at the beginning of the noughties I was introduced to technology. Remarkably, until that point, I’d spent my life physically active, walking and catching the train whenever I took my kids anywhere, losing myself in books, and generally loving life.
I was introduced to Yahoo in 1999, but didn’t really hop on board until the big Y2K panic, during which time I was introduced to Yahoo Chat and chatrooms. As a mom of three at the time, it was a great chance to socialise from my living room. By 2004 I was a mom of six and studying full-time, and somehow still managing to stay in touch with people through Yahoo, and soon after that Facebook. In 2008, my husband and I moved our family to New Zealand. Facebook became ever more important as a way of staying in touch with our UK family. But even then it was changing. When I look back now, it’s obvious, but somehow I let myself be dragged willingly into addiction. I studied for my MA and graduated, all the while still logging into Facebook every day—sharing my life, but also following social commentaries about current affairs and politics. Twenty fifteen saw my biggest shift. I was always fascinated by American politics, my love of books often focused around American crime thrillers. So, when Trump entered the political arena, I found myself fascinated by the noise he created. Soon, not only was my Facebook feed full of him, but I’d subscribed to You Tube. New independent media podcasts were popping up, and I found myself enraged, following the antics of the GOP, and watching how the divisiveness that had seemed to start in the States was now creeping into UK politics, and then Australian and NZ politics. It didn’t happen immediately, but crept up on me, becoming the first thing I’d look at in the morning and the last thing at night. The need to understand the psychology of what was happening, the anger that it was happening and the willful ignorance of people letting what was happening to happen.
My husband would ask me why? What was it about politics that held me so enthralled, the need to listen to Meidas Touch, Legal AF, IHIP News, The Bulwark, The Lincoln Project—hell the list goes on and on. Was it the news? Was it morbid curiosity? Was it my fear that what had happened there was going to happen here? Was it simply addiction?
I’d wake up, reach for my phone and open YouTube, check for the click bait titles and five minutes would become ten, then twenty, then an hour. By now my kids were all grown—they didn’t need me to get them to school, or work. I’d hit menopause following a run in with cervical cancer, had a midlife crisis, and now found myself spending hours of every day lost in politics, preferring to listen and feel the anger at what was happening to actually living.

The crazy thing was—or one of the crazy things—was that in 2022 I moved to Australia, my lifelong dream. And still, I found myself wasting away days at a time on what was happening in the US. Lost, filling a void? I didn’t realise it then, but I realise it now. I’d hit my fiftieth birthday, had kids living across three countries, my wider family across four continents, and I’d lost my way. My husband was working the FIFO life, away for ten out of fourteen days and I was lost. I’d lost my identity, I’d lost my focus, I’d lost my drive, and I’d lost my way, and predominantely because I’d been able to lose myself in social media. As I look back now it’s clear as day, my brain fogs weren’t only menopause driven, they were because of the insatiable need to scroll, whether it be on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, or any number of other things. I recognise it, and I need to change it, and I forgive myself for my willful blindness. I have two grandchildren now, and my daughter is adamant that she will keep screens from them for as long as possible. I didn’t understand why to start off, my kids watched TV, but I have two sons who have/had game addiction, so I understand the need to be careful with any kind of technology. Let’s hope the next generation are able to undo some of the damage we’ve created by allowing technology into their lives, because phones, tablets and screens of all sorts have changed the way they’re wired, and if a fifty-three year old woman can only just notice it, then somebody needs to do something to stop the same happening to our children and grandbabies. Smoking was seen as safe, but is now recognised to kill. Social media is out of control. The tech giants are out of control, and I hope that legislation will eventually be put into place to at least minimise what they are doing to our brains.

A letter to myself.

Em (in the future),

You raised six beautiful children, moved them across the world, and taught them to be unafraid of anything. To take risks when they needed, and to recognise that the world is a place to explore not to hide from. In the past decade though, it’s exactly what you have done. It’s been easy to disappear down rabbit holes, to hide from the world rather than embrace middle age, to lose direction of where your life is going. Having a run in with not only cervical cancer, but throat cancer directly caused by smoking, you should be embracing life, going out and experiencing everything you possibly can. You know how easy it could be to lose the opportunity, so why, why is it so easy to open your phone and mindlessly scroll? This is your chance to reclaim your life. To take back control and refind your voice, pick up your pen and write the stories you started all those years ago. You don’t have diapers to change, school runs to do, uniforms to wash, bedtime stories to read, teenagers to negotiate with, hell, you have nothing but time—take it back, don’t let Zuckerburg or any of his cronies steal anymore time from you. You still have a life to live, a legacy to leave and love to give, so delete Facebook from your phone, delete You Tube from your phone, delete Instagram from your phone, take the phone charger from your room, set strict boundaries for when you can use your phone and start creating good, healthy, happy habits. I’m gonna check on you! You’re going to tell hubby, and daughter, and anyone else around you who witnesses you pick up that phone and scroll. Stuff what old Trumpy’s doing—it’s not your problem. It will only be a problem when it comes to your own elections, so stop worrying about what cannot be changed.

What is it the Serenity Prayer says?

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.?

Well, from here on in, I can change the amount of time I’m on my phone, I can change the apps I have available, and I can change my own behaviours, so, here goes…

I’ll be watching .

Em (in the present)

I’m sorry if that was a long rant, but I needed to get it out for myself, to recognise where my pattern of behaviour began, and to understand how I could fill the void I’ve created. Probably the most terrifying thing was that the phone addiction stemmed from screen addiction that started nearly thirty years ago!!

I’ve been wanting to start a project called “In Search of Me Em for three years, playing with it, never quite getting to the start writing bit because I’d always turn You Tube on. I’m going to fill the void by really getting stuck into it, walking every day, throwing myself in the ocean every morning, and learning to love life all over again. The image attached is my cover page for my project--time to get busy!

Em Lowe

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