Seizing the Moment and Letting it Go

One of my goals for the new year is to PUT DOWN THE DAMN PHONE. I write it in all caps because that's how it feels anytime I say it to myself in my head. Actually, it's more like: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WASTING SO MUCH TIME LOOKING AT THIS CRAP GO READ A BOOK OR SOMETHING AND PUT DOWN THE DAMN PHONE. It's like a self-shaming ritual that never really works, because I'm convinced that browsing Facebook, in particular, is in many ways similar to pulling the arm of a slot machine, and just as potentially addictive.

I first thought about this relationship (Facebook:gambling) after hearing this episode of Radiolab, in which a woman diagnosed with Parkinson's becomes a frenzied gambling addict after starting on medication to control the symptoms. Long story short: Parkinson's disease results from the death of dopamine neurons in the areas of the brain associated with movement. Certain medications aim to restore those neurons, but aren't targeted only to specific brain areas, so reward and pleasure centers of the brain can become oversensitive to the rushes of dopamine that are released when, for example, the patient wins an unexpected reward, like a $20 win at a slot machine. It's like a tremendous high, and impulse control cedes to desire for repeated reward.

The story also discussed how the intermittant nature of a reward is what triggers a particularly elated feeling, a strong dopamine release. That's what often fuels gambling addictions in people who don't have Parkinson's, and it's part of why I believe I had become addicted to Facebook. You open the app, hoping to see something funny, something entertaining or, best of all, comments on your post! Comments! Yipee! Sometimes, you scroll and scroll, hoping for that unexpected slice of fun but, often, you're disappointed. No reason to not try again in a half hour!

Hi. I'm Jackie and I have a problem.

Or rather, I had a problem. I think. I mean, I think it's mostly handled, but I know enough about grand pronouncements to resist making one here. What did I do? Two things: I used the Moment app and moved my Facebook app to the fourth page of my apps and put it in a group of other social media apps, which is like housing it in a fortress in basically Siberia. Sort of.

Moment is an app that tracks how much time you spend on your phone. You can set a time limit for the day, and once you reach it your phone interrupts whatever you're doing, repeatedly, with an awful ringing sound and a banner that reminds you, nicely, that you suck. I set my limit at 90 minutes, but I really had no idea how much time I was spending, so for one week I just let myself do what I do, to see how much time I was really spending gazing at my little rectangle. Ninety minutes?

HA.

Try, like, at least 120 minutes. Every day. That was enough for me to realize that I needed to do something. So I moved the Facebook app. Together with the confirmation that my problem was, indeed, a problem, making the app difficult to access removed it's candy-like appeal. It was always just so easy to open the phone and click on the app--sitting at a red light, bored at my desk, just before bed, waking up in the morning...whenever. Now, it's remote location and the fact that I have to make several gestures to get to it serve as a gentle reminder that I don't really need Facebook, except when I want it. Which is, incidentally, now about once or twice per day, for a few minutes. Using it that much less has the additional benefit of confirming for me that, no, I'm not really missing anything funny or important. I feel less distracted and more aware.

All because I moved my fucking Facebook app.

That sounds pretty pathetic, but I'd wager that so many of you completely, totally, understand.