"Hi, my name is Lara and I'm a digital addict. It's been 14 days since my last time on Facebook."
It seems absurd, but it isn't far from the truth.
I'm 6 or so years into what amounts to nothing less than a fully fledged addiction to digital media. And I suspect I'm not the only one.
But the first step is admitting you have a problem, right?
I wrote a couple of weeks ago about being hyper aware of the noise I was subjecting my brain to, and about my efforts to cull and be more mindful about my information habits - and it's no surprise that these mostly centre around the consumption of digital media.
As someone living in the modern world, and especially as someone who works in digital communications, much of my life is spent tethered to the internet. Whether it's reading content, keeping abreast of online developments, learning online, or just generally staying plugged in, I've actually become quite sick of it to be honest. When it gets to the point where you can't fall asleep without listening to a podcast or watching a film online, you start to think perhaps things have gone too far... It occurred to me all of sudden that my cravings for calm simplicity in my personal life might be directly a result of my noisy and chaotic online life.
So, as I'm prone to do, I've begun to cull. First came many brutal chops of friends and acquaintances - carving 800-1000 or so from my Facebook friends in waves of digital obsessive compulsion, along with unfollowing huge numbers of "interest" pages, down to a tight 100 pages, and 400 or so friends. Then came the culling of twitter friends and sorting of twitter lists into tightly curated areas of interest - down to less than 200. Then culling my followings on Instagram, Pinterest, Tumblr, Vimeo, YouTube... Then casting aside many a vague LinkedIn connection.
I came to realise though that it isn't about the number of people I'm following across however many platform, but also about the sense of "my brain has too many tabs open", so next came wholesale deactivation of many of the online platforms I've signed up to in a "next big thing" haze, only to have left my new piece of online real estate abandoned only weeks, days, hours or even minutes later. Fragmented attention I've realised, is quite a toxic thing.
Even more sinister than that, is the sense of not having control over the content appearing in said open tabs. Of course, the biggest culprit: Facebook. The first "social media" platform - and inevitably also the first to monetise (and in my opinion also entirely devalue itself). I found the more I culled and curated my Facebook, the more aware I became of just how much it was being "algorithm-ed". And I don't like it.
So, no more. And I must admit I haven't missed it, even for a second. I've found all of a sudden the platforms I am using are vastly more valuable - and that what I'm plugged into is no longer content for content's sake. It's about quality over quantity. It's about being hyper aware of the kind of information I'm allowing into my orbit.
Umair Haque wrote a piece this week about how the social web is evolving, and how a culture of abuse has been allowed to flourish on Twitter. And it definitely struck a nerve for me. I don't know if it has more to do with where I am at personally, or it's just where the social web has landed lately, but I have such a strong sense of negativity when I'm spending a lot of time online. And I don't particularly like it. (Who would?!)
So in the same way as anyone might mindfully curate their friends and influences in the real world, I've done this online. No more clickbait, listicles, noise and hysteria. (Goodbye Facebook's content of currency.) Hello more thoughtful long form articles, media of quality and creative integrity, and eventually, far more room for offline media.
Let's be clear though, it's not as though I'm now living offline, although after all these years and all these hours spent online, it kind of feels like I am. I feel like my life has shifted to the wild west - largely undiscovered and undocumented.