No More I Love You's - Why I Stopped Liking Posts on Instagram

One Thursday afternoon in April, I was lying in bed doom-scrolling on Instagram. Not especially unusual behaviour. In fact, it was something I'd done every day, for years. But in the preceding weeks and months, my mental health had been bothering me. Again, not that unusual. I've been prone to depression and anxiety in the past, and have diagnosed OCD. And we're living through weird and scary times. I was also spending a lot of time fantasising about winning the lottery, which was a sure fire sign that I was going through a bit of a low patch.

While blasting through a reel binge - cue relentless anxiety-inducing videos about the horrors of perimenopause and ageing, interspersed with cats and Kyla Cobbler, I noticed that thirty-five minutes had passed. A familiar sense of grimness descended on me, the miserable knowledge of time wasted.

So I resolved to put my phone in my bedside drawer and just leave it there for the evening. I told myself that I would stop scrolling on Insta - not through the feed, and not through the posts and reels churned out by the algorithm. I would no longer just open the app as a matter of course. I went cold turkey, and barring using the platform very intentionally for advertising, posting and messaging, I've stuck to it. 

And this is some of what I've learnt...

1. I felt noticeably calmer and happier within a few days. No more time spent doom-scrolling has meant a reduction in despair-laden sad time and an upswing in general contentment. Mental health win.

2. There's peace to be found in not knowing what the rest of the world is doing. Sure, I kind of miss the reel-based slapstick and whimsy, but if losing that means that my central nervous system feels even slightly less flammable, I'll happily go without.

3. I've read more books, and been able to read for more sustained periods. And in general, my enthusiasm for long-form content has gone up. An hour-long video all about the dissection of superficial fascia? Ha, yes please. Also, everyone needs to read The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller. It's beautiful. It's heartbreaking. I cried.

4. My capacity to deal with real-life problems has expanded. I have more bandwidth for dealing and coping with difficult things, and I'm less likely to put off things I find hard.

5. I do feel sad that I no longer see or have the opportunity to pop a big ol’ love heart on posts from my friends on Instagram, people I know in real-life, people I've met through massage, and people I've got to know through Insta. And if any of those people are reading this, please know that I care about you very much.

6. But the upside of not knowing what's happening in the lives of my friends, is that I meet up with people more. For tea, for cake, for conversation. For laughs and sadness, and everything in between. I greedily lap up in-person hang-outs and opportunities to while away a couple of hours with a steady procession of hot bevs and sweet treats.

I know all this doesn’t feel like it has much to do with massage, but it has a lot to do with the central nervous system, mental health and wellbeing. And looking after those three things better means that I have all the compassion, empathy and focus I need to really look after the people who come to see me for massage.