Doomscrolling Quotes

Let us break the deadlock and stop doom-scrolling into the narrative of a fluctuating landscape of dispiriting thoughts...but, instead, invite the flowers of compassion to blossom in our hearts and our minds and overwhelm us with a spray of vibrant petals of well-being. ("Absence of Desire" )

The most frustrating thing about living with ADHD is when someone witnesses a shutdown and calls me lazy. I get it, it might look like laziness when I’m lying on the sofa, doom-scrolling social media, but the truth is, I’m in a state of decision paralysis and overwhelm.

You scroll. You feel. You judge. You click. But do you pause? Do you see what you’re chasing? Do you notice what’s pulling you?

And then my breathing quickens, and my head swims, and I know I’m on the verge of an anxiety attack, so I double back to my apartment and curl up on my bed and whip out my phone for another hour of doom-scrolling, because that is paradoxically the only thing that calms things down.

... and being part of Stan 'Twitter is much more fun than logging on just to frown at politicians or congratulate acquaintances on their new jobs. When I'm doom-scrolling through a timeline full of terrible news and inane bickering, it's a treat to come across all-caps excitement or an ultra-niche joke. Or to wake up and find that there is a conversation going on and that I understand it, and that people are excited about something and I am too. This is the type of thing that can buoy a person for an hour or so at a time. In the same way that holidays give shape to formless years, album promotion and single releases give color to the days that line up one after another. There is a reason to stay up late. There is a reason to wake up early. There is something to do at lunch when you feel like you'd like to cry and take a nap. There are people who swear they hacked into an airport security camera, and aren't you interested to see what they saw, even if you find that totally weird and ultimately quite scary? I like Stan Twitter because it is so peculiar, even as millions of people participate in it and it should have become generic.

Doomscrolling is nothing new, people used to do the same with tv remote, switching channel after channel, rarely settling on any one program. And heads buried in social media news feed is nothing new either - before smartphone and internet heads used to be buried in actual physical newspapers. Only the means have changed, not the habit. This is not advancement, it's recurring derangement. I'll call it progress when you put down your phone or remote and actually listen to another person. Sure, phones can be a supplement to organic conversation, but never a replacement.

The capacity to set the heart's attention on God - so basic to following Jesus - is the very commodity we are losing to the "attention economy," trading looking for liking and gazing for doomscrolling. But if we can't pay attention, we can't pray.

tips for not being triggered when I shouldn’t give a flying fuck: 1. I ask myself, “Over the course of my lifetime, how important is this?” 2. I spend less time on social media and refuse to “doom-scroll.” 3. I’ve stopped seeking a “permission slip” to do something I care about. 4. I feel comfortable saying no to more of the things that have historically felt obligatory.

The sad truth is that most of what we’re preoccupied with doesn’t even matter. We give the jerk at the office free space in our head. We choose to go on Twitter and doomscroll. We don’t need to check our email as much as we do. Worrying about money never solves our money problems. We have to push all that stuff away. So we can be present. So we can be patient. So we can be parents.

Every night when I doomscroll, I encounter more people tossing around chilling language about their good genes and their strong immune systems and their “pureblood” and their perfect children as an argument against taking simple actions, like putting on a mask, that would protect people a little less strong and perfect than they imagine themselves to be. Largely unknowingly, they are the inheritors of the barbaric traditions that once sought to rid the world of children like mine. When glowing influencers spew fatphobic bile at people daring to ask them to consider their impacts on others, they are tapping into deep supremacist logics about which lives have value and which lives are disposable. When parents refuse to give their children vaccines that have controlled viruses like measles for generations because they are gripped with the terror of having the kind of child that the Nazis declared unworthy of life, they are feeding into these logics, too.

My C-word diagnosis was, in many ways, crushing for me, but limiting who I called and avoiding doom-scrolling on the internet helped me manage the immediate mental chaos.

Every time we tap our phones to open Facebook or Twitter or Instagram, we inch closer to the giant rolling pin that will splatter our gray matter everywhere. In 2020, Merriam-Webster released a new entry to its Words We’re Watching blog: doomscrolling.2

(On doom-scrolling) the problem of it all is, it's simply much easier to sit on your phone and scroll through/down as the world worsens, then actually doing anything to fix that world, because the problems of the world, even when they interfere directly with us, seem bigger than us, and somehow removed from us...when they are immediately impacting us.

Research at Harvard and elsewhere finds that the more our mind wanders, the worse we feel. So, for instance, the more time people spend doomscrolling on their mobile phones, the more likely they are to report being depressed.

Elias’s, which discusses how healthy we’d all be if we came off social media more. But it’s not true for me. Social media is my lifeline on my worst days – when I can’t otherwise be a part of the world. It’s not doomscrolling for me, it’s hopescrolling. It’s feel-less-alone-scrolling. And it’s my-key-to-the-outside-world-and-everyone-I-love-scrolling.

To feel, as you fumbled for another nickel, that something big might have happened since you last looked. In this way, you fought off the anxious emptiness at the center of your head, the sense that nothing under the sun was ever really new, and that we were all of us therefore stuck with the lives we had.

Index There is no index, people. So, you have to read the whole book all the way through to see if you’re in it. I’ll be honest—most of you are not. Still, read it all, even though it’s hundreds of pages. Think of it like doom-scrolling Twitter—

But the whole idea of reading as a pastime has somehow dropped off my life menu, and the time I used to spend in fictional worlds is now spent incessantly refreshing the news. I sometimes still try to kid myself into believing that this pointless consuming of current affair is important for my understanding of reality and even for my survival. But deep inside, I know that the momentous piece of news—the one that will supposedly pull me and the entire Middle East out of the deep pit we’ve fallen into—will never come, and all my endless refreshing and scrolling is just another stage in outsourcing my emotional world. After all, it’s a lot easier to wait for updates from a dismaying reality than to listen, feel, and submit to someone else’s imagination and hopes.

If you scroll long enough, your phone will become your grave. In the name of telecommunication, algorithms generate the new stoneage.

Similarly, research has shown that as we scroll through our phone, we are essentially manifesting the Vegas Effect: notifications produce a sense of anticipation that activates the reward system, which then captures our attention in an endless loop. As we incessantly check our messages or doomscroll through content for the one piece of information that will make us feel OK or will flood us with horror and empathy fatigue at the suffering of the world, we helplessly watch our attention slipping away from us. When we lose the power to direct our attention, we can sink into despair and feel we do not have influence over the course or quality of our lives. Deep down, we know that selective attention is the key investment in building the lives we desire. That is why we say we “pay” attention. Our inner power rests in our ability to make conscious decisions about our investment. If we cannot direct our attention as we choose, it is as if we are giving away the capital we possess to change our circumstances. We are giving away our self-agency.

I do try a digital purge...But it doesn't feel like a cleanse; it feels like sticking my head in the sand while everything is falling down around me. I can't ignore the damage. I have to track the exact trajectory of the hurricane, because knowing the precise moment it'll hit and where will make things hurt less. At least, my brain is convinced this is so...the world outside feels so insubstantial, irrelevant, like a video game environment that's still buffering. Sometimes I do manage to forget it all for a moment, but then my focus slips...And then my breathing quickens, and my head swims...whip out my phone for another hour of doom-scrolling, because that is paradoxically the only thing that calms things down. I can't eat...I can't sleep.

The day my house turned against me started like any other lights flashing at my command, blinds snapping shut with military precision, and my coffee machine chirping a cheerful "Good morning!" as if it hadn't just witnessed me going broke. Here I was, a self-styled tech evangelist, huddled on the floor of my "smart" house, staring at an empty screen where my Bitcoin wallet once sat. My sin? Hubris. My penalty? Accidentally nuking my private keys while upgrading a custom node server, believing I could outsmart the pros. The result? A $425,000 crater where my crypto nest egg once grew, and a smart fridge that now beeped condescendingly every time I opened its doors. Panic fell like a rogue AI. I pleaded with tech-savvy friends, who responded with a mix of pity and "You did what?! " I scrolled through forums until my eyes were streaming, trawling through threads filled with such mouthfuls as "irreversible blockchain entropy" and "cryptographic oblivion." I even begged my fridge's voice assistant to turn back the chaos, half-expecting it to sneer and respond, "Play stupid games, win stupid prizes." A Reddit thread buried deep under doomscrolls and memes was how desperation finally revealed to me Rapid Digital Recovery, a single mention of gratitude to the software that recovered lost crypto like digital paramedics.". In despair, but without options, I called them. Their people replied with no judgment, but clinical immediacy, such as a hospital emergency room surgeons might exercise. Within a few hours, their engineers questioned my encrypted system logs a labyrinth of destroyed scripts and torn files like conservators rebuilding a fractured relic. They reverse-engineered my abortive update, tracking digital crumbs across layers of encryption. I imagined them huddled over glowing screens, fueled by coffee and obscurity of purpose, playing my catastrophe as a high-stakes video game. Twelve days went by, and an email arrived: "We've found your keys." My fingers trembled as I logged in. There it was my Bitcoin, resurrected from the depths, shining on the screen like a digital phoenix. I half-expect my smart lights to blink in gratitude. Rapid Digital Recovery not only returned my money; they restored my faith in human ingenuity against cold, uncaring computer programming. Their people combined cutting-edge forensics with good-old-fashioned persistence, refusing to make my mistake a permanent one. Today, my smart home remains filled with automation, but I've shut down its voice activation. My fridge? It's again chilling my beer silently judging me as I walk by. If you ever find yourself in a war of minds with your own machines, believe in the Rapid Digital Recovery. They'll outsmart the machines for you so you won't have to. Just perhaps unplug the coffee maker beforehand. Contact Info Below: Whatsapp: +1 4 14 80 71 4 85 Email: rapid digital recovery (@) execs. com Telegram: h t t p s: // t. me / Rapiddigitalrecovery1

Doomscrolling, binge-watching, and constant notifications can drain us just as much as hoarding physical objects.

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Don't be ashamed for doomscrolling and playing silly mobile games. This is a unique time in human history, this opportunity will never return. You'll incarnate forever, and a part of you will miss these things. Don't miss it now.

Has the world, and not just its people, lost its soul through immobility, laziness, and living a zombified half-life doomscrolling through virtual reality? Is our own ‘intelligence’ becoming more and more artificial as we literally ossify in front of our screens? If you’re having trouble answering such questions, maybe you should ask Siri.