a quick google search will tell you all about the rapidly growing rates of depression and anxiety occurring today, and it seems to be getting worse. 

though something such as this will be due to several contributing factors, social media has been identified as one of the primary contributors of the problem. 

what is it about socials that gives them so much power over our mental health?  

is it the hours behind the screen?  the never-ending scroll and mindless consumption?  is it the unfiltered hatred, bullying, and negativity that can be so prevalent in the content or comments? 

maybe it’s our inability to view others’ posts and not compare our lives to theirs. 

maybe it’s constantly seeing what we are missing.  or seeing posts that cause us to ask questions like ‘why don’t i get to have that?’; ‘why isn’t my life that interesting?’; ‘why don’t i look like that?’; ‘why wasn’t i invited?’; or ‘why do they have so many followers?’

it may not pop off the screen at you, but there is one common theme among those reactions and questions, and i think it is the thing that gives social media the power it has over our mental health.

YOU are the focus.

the heart of our every interaction with social media is a demanding and dominant self-focus.  first it occurs in our posting, then in the reactions to what we’ve posted, and once again when we consume what others have posted.  

1. 1. when we’re posting: when we’re thinking about what to post, taking picture after picture, video after video, to attractively present what we want others to consume, and thinking about what humor, insight, or quip to use in order to get attention, we are the center of our efforts and thoughts. a great magnifying glass of self-centeredness is lowered down on top of our heads, and it blows us up with its unrelenting self-awareness.  how do i look?  is the filter right? did i capture enough interesting content for the timeline?  am i funny?  am i appealing?  even in the self-deprecating efforts of some to be ‘real’ and ‘authentic’ and share all the hardships of the day or the real talk about the struggles, the focus is still inward.  social media is still magnifying ‘self’ over everything else. 
   2. in the reactions to what we’ve posted: when we’re watching for the reactions of what we’ve posted, the magnification of self only grows.  do they like it?  how many likes?  how many comments?  how many shares?  if there’s positivity around the reactions, we’re getting endorphin hits.  if there’s negativity, or even worse – silence, we feel a certain way about that as well.  either way, the concern is self-related, self-focused, self-concerned.  it’s again, the unrelenting magnifying glass right in front of our faces.
   3. when we consume what others post: when we’re consuming what other people post, social media is still holding that merciless mag over us, because though it may be true that we’re seeing, watching, and learning about others, we are – consciously or unconsciously – holding their image up next to our own.  they look better than us.  they look worse than us.  they have more than us.  they have less than us.  they’re experiencing things, doing things, making things we’re not. we’re experiencing things, doing things, making things they’re not.  their posts are more engaging, lovely, interesting, funny, or they’re not.  any way we land, we’re taking someone and comparing to ourselves, determining where we stand among the populace.  where we rank.  in what ways we’re winning or losing.  and the focus remains, as it has ever since we picked up our phones – on ourselves. 

i was walking samson on a sunday afternoon.  he’s getting old so we walk slowly.  the sun was shining, small fluffy clouds loosely littered a blue blanket of sky, the breeze was luscious and smelled full of a late summer’s bounty. 

as we neared the bottom of a hill i saw a young girl.  she was eight years old.  she wore small shorts and had her shirt pulled up and tied at her breastbone, exposing her belly and back.  an iphone was propped against the bottom of a tree to capture her performing a dance routine.  she recorded, ran to watch it, and went back and did it again and again. 

she didn’t see us for a while.  we don’t make a lot of noise and like i said, we move slowly, so i watched this go on for a good few minutes before she noticed us. 

what is interesting about this scene, and so indicative of our relationship with socials, is that as soon as she saw us, she spooked.  

she stopped her routine, pulled her shirt down, rushed her phone into her pocket, and trained her eyes to the ground. 

was she doing something wrong?  of course not. i don’t think that’s what made her retreat. 

i think what happened in her tiny, eight-year-old frame was the realization that i’d watched her be self-consumed.  as any one of us would be embarrassed to watch ourselves back in our most self-centered moments, this is how she felt knowing i’d seen one of hers.  it was like someone caught her talking to herself in the mirror or saw her admiring her own image in a shop window’s reflection. 

after chatting with her, i found out that she was recording for a tiktok post.  she wasn’t a dancer or working on an audition.  she was a first grader who wanted to post a likeable video to her tiktok feed.  she wanted attention.  she wanted likes.  she wanted to be noticed. 

even at eight years old, her urgency and efforts were of self-concern. 

i hate that our children care about their online presence before they are tall enough to ride space mountain.  shouldn’t they just be worried about growing?  and eating ice cream?  and learning how to ride a bike?  when our eight-year-olds are concerned about their posts and likes, it’s no great mystery why our twelve-year-olds are depressed and our sixteen-year-olds are suicidal.  our children have learned that their worth and value and relevance originates and is won or lost in the responses to their timelines.

but that is a lie.  

though he was one of many to write on the topic, the late, great tim keller writes a lot about self-forgetfulness.  this is a rounder idea of humility.  not thinking more or less of yourself but thinking of yourself less.  herein lies the freedom of removing the magnifying glass that makes us so important in our own eyes and breaks the cursed thing.  the act of putting down our cameras and turning our eyes outward so we can love someone else and encourage someone else is perhaps the cheapest and most effective medicine there is. 

to be less concerned about being heard and more concerned about HEARING; less focused on teaching and be more concerned about LEARNING; not requiring to be understood but to instead revel in UNDERSTANDING… this is the freedom of self-forgetfulness. 

it feels like relief.  it washes over the soul in a refreshing relax.  it’s a salve that does not stop soothing.  forgetting our trouble to lend a hand to a neighbor is one of the easiest things in the world.  i wonder if we could forget ourselves and turn our gaze outward for a few hours, if that may be the most critical therapy we need.  if we could put down the tool that magnifies us so greatly and instead look at the people in front of us – the real people, with skin on, sitting next to us on the couch –  we may start to feel better.  not because of some mental magic, but because we’re relieving our minds of the work that it is to be us. 

george macdonald wrote that ‘the dungeon is the man himself’ and that the grossest war is ‘a life lived for itself’. 

the reason social media has the control that is has over our mental health is the fact that its every use causes us to focus on ourselves.  our image, our presence, our influence, our likeability, our applause, our approval rates, our ranks, our statuses. 

if you find yourself realizing that your engagement with socials impacts your mental health, i want to encourage you.  you’re not alone and you have every ability to set yourself free.  take a break, put socials on your laptop or desktop instead of your phone, or if you feel so moved – delete them all.  

no matter your move, you will find that the world does not end and while the globe continues to spin, you may find your mind swimming in the freedom from the merciless nasty mag.  

it’s not magic. 

it’s just a choice.  

this is life without social media. 

this is life. Unchained. 

love, Nic