My Struggle With Social Media Addiction

I was there when it all began. Not just as a user, but as a lonely kid trapped in four walls. I was a naturally extroverted Brazilian girl, bursting with energy, confined to her house by overprotecti

I was there when it all began. Not just as a user, but as a lonely kid trapped in four walls. I was a naturally extroverted Brazilian girl, bursting with energy, confined to her house by overprotective parents. No hanging out, no mall trips, no street play—just me, staring at my bedroom walls, desperate for human connection. Then came my first experience on the internet—Orkut and games like Tibia—my first digital window to the world. Finally, I could talk to people! I dove into communities about math and anime, played games for hours, and found friends who understood me. Real connections formed in that digital space. Some of those friends? Still with me today, over a decade later. That's the beautiful side of social media I can't ignore—it gave a trapped child and teenager a way to feel less alone. But what started as a lifeline slowly became a chain. The shocking moment? Realizing right before COVID that I was spending 40 hours a week on Instagram. A full-time job of... scrolling. Let that sink in. That's me, an adult woman, begging my sister to change my password and telling her not to give it to me under any circumstances. Spoiler alert: I never made it. I always found a way back in. Addiction finds a way. Always. Now I watch my younger sister falling into the TikTok void, and my heart breaks. I deliberately stayed away from TikTok—I know myself too well. One addiction was enough. But seeing her eyes glued to that endless stream? That hits differently. During COVID, I decided to finally nuke my Instagram—no goodbye post, no warning. Friends thought I'd blocked them. But sometimes, burning bridges is the only way forward. The plot twist? I just shifted my addiction to LinkedIn. Less time, same mindless scrolling, different flavor of digital junk food. I stayed a whole year out of Instagram, and that fixed my addiction. In the space where scrolling used to live, real life crept in. I found myself on a jiu-jitsu mat and started new hobbies like growing things in my garden. I got a fish tank and learned to longboard. I traveled the world. You know, living instead of just watching others live. The irony? Social media promised to cure my loneliness but made me lonelier in real life. I stopped appreciating actual moments because I was too busy documenting them or checking what others were doing. It's like being at a concert but watching it through your phone screen—you're there, but you're not really there. That's why I'm building Socra with Mike. Not as another attention trap, but as a ladder to help others climb out; a place where technology serves us, not the other way around. I'm thankful for those early online friendships. They saved me during those confined years. But we need to evolve. We need something better than weapons of mass distraction. Something that helps us live our best lives instead of watching others live theirs. I broke free. Found my balance. Now I'm building the future I wish existed when I was trapped in both my room and the scroll. Your turn to break free. 🦋 It's important to recognize that social media has changed significantly. It wasn't as damaging a decade ago as it is now. The AI has become much better at making people addictive; the drug is much stronger. I noticed the mechanics becoming more sophisticated during my addiction, but I didn't find any joy in it. It was just something I had to do; otherwise, I would have anxiety. When I quit Instagram for a year, the first few months, I would still open my phone and try to find the app on autopilot. I constantly caught myself doing that. That's what I would do if my brain was ever in idle mode—which means it was never in idle mode. I rarely had my own thoughts and ideas. You don't have an inner dialogue while you're scrolling; you're just consuming.

By Eduarda Ferreira