Journal #8: My own thoughts as commodities
I haven't written a post here in a minute.
It's not that I haven't been writing. I have a long list of drafts that just keeps growing longer. I've also been working on some original fiction as well as poetry here and there.
Last week I went on a break from social media. I expected that it would be a struggle. I didn't expect how far-reaching the effects that social media had on my life were, or how much stepping back from it would reset my perspective.
The stuff I thought would be most difficult to overcome ended up being easy. The hard parts concerned things that I didn't think fell under the purview of social media at all.
I kept a detailed log of my thoughts, feelings, and behavior for the first few days, which you can read here—
By day three I ran out of steam writing. I thought I was just burnt out from the lack of dopamine, but as the week progressed I realized something:
Social media had taught me to treat my own thoughts as commodities. In taking a break from social media, I found more value in my thoughts and felt fulfilled in thinking them without having to put them up for sale.
We're often told to think of the internet as an open marketplace of ideas. But underneath this metaphor lies the unspoken implication that the products we're selling and purchasing are our own thoughts.
At the start of my break I was busy relearning emotional regulation, coping with boredom, and how to get my kicks without the help of a personal dopamine machine. I had expected to face these struggles in advance and prepared different solutions like positive self-talk, pen-and-paper word puzzles, and rediscovering the banal novelties of everyday life, ahead of time. This was "easy" stuff that's easily quantifiable in a before and after format, all of which I will eventually extrapolate on in separate posts.
By midweek (sometime around day three and into day four) my thoughts took on a more esoteric quality. I wasn't just spinning my wheels, burning off mental energy as I came down from a lifelong dopamine bender.
My thoughts had space to breathe, time to grow, and even more importantly, the silence and stillness to sit and take root without input or commentary from my higher brain.
I wasn't just thinking to myself; I was thinking with myself.
- When faced with a problem, I consulted my own beliefs for solutions.
- When I had questions, I looked to my own personal knowledge for answers.
- When I struggled understanding the world, I investigated my own perspective and cross-referenced it with that of others.
Getting back in tune with my own mind made me realize how often I would run to social media whenever I encountered anything distressing or confusing. I had made it a habit of looking to other people for the things that I should have been providing myself.
I wasted many fruitless nights plumbing the depths of social media in search of the post, article, comment, video, or photo that would finally set things right. I couldn't see that my original discontent was manufactured, and its antidote was similarly predicated upon the words of strangers served on algorithmic content feeds.
Rephrase the reflexes like this:
- When you're upset, who would you rather seek comfort from: a hundred strangers, or yourself?
- When you're unsure of your station in life, what is the better comparison: yourself against a dozen lives entirely different from your own, or yourself against the person you were in the past, and the person you hope to become in the future?
- When the present world is confusing, which provides better context: historical accounts and expert testimony, or the incredulous opinions of anonymous reactionaries?
Every time I felt the urge to go on social media, I asked myself questions like this to investigate where that urge originated and what purpose it served. Then I would think of how I could provide that for myself.
I was surprised at how capable I was of meeting my own needs once I removed social media as an option. I've felt more attuned to myself, my feelings, and my mind than I have in ages.
I don't need to make a nice, tidy blog post for my thoughts to be worthwhile. Their worth lies in being thought of at all.
✘ Posted on — 01/17/25
✘ Last modified — 6 months, 4 weeks ago
✘ Link — https://blog.xavierhm.com/journal-8-my-own-thoughts-as-commodities