I went without my phone for 24 hours from 10:30 pm Saturday to 10:30 pm Sunday.
I often wake before I want to and when I can’t fall back asleep, I reach for my phone. Because this wasn’t possible I laid awake ruminating as insomniacs are wont to do — but eventually I did fall back asleep and it was glorious. On another day, would the blue light and search for something satisfying have kept me up? Those intermittent rewards are never enough.
I spent the morning with my partner, two kids, sister, parents and grandmother. It helped that I was at my parents’ house — an environment in which I spent years pre-smartphones. I know how to sit in that space.
Still, there were times I wanted to reach for my phone — even just physically looking at the end table next to me, touching my back pocket — but it wasn’t there. I focused on drinking my coffee while it was actually hot.
There were times my daughters asked for my phone — for instance, when they wanted me to play music for their dance party. It felt good to be able to tell them I didn’t have it on me.
The times I wanted my phone most were when I wanted to take photos of the family and when something would come to mind that I wanted to tell a friend and I was worried I would forget. I also felt like I was missing out on socializing with my friends virtually, even though I was with my family physically. I’ll admit I did turn on my computer. I legitimately had an assignment for another class due by 9 pm Sunday, but I wasn’t only doing the reading and writing for that class — I also talked to people on Slack and looked at Facebook, where I liked a number of photos my cousin had posted from my grandmother’s birthday party the previous day and where I also found out my friend’s dog died. I commented there and did remember to reach out via text the next day.
It was especially strange to do errands without my phone, the feeling that if someone needed something else from the store I wouldn’t find out until I returned. Or if something happened with the kids or my grandmother, I wouldn’t be able to respond in time. And I had to listen to the radio instead of “my” music, sitting through songs I didn’t know!
Later, I was driving from Pennsylvania to Massachusetts and my mom was the navigator. If she hadn’t been, I would’ve needed my phone then. Although I have a good sense of direction, it’s been blunted by GPS use.
It was fortunate the challenge ended when it did because I would have stopped at that point anyway — at 10:37 pm my daughter started having trouble breathing and we made an emergency detour. I used my phone to find the hospital and then to communicate with my mom who had my eldest in the waiting room.
The definition of addiction “a compulsive, chronic, physiological or psychological need for a habit-forming substance, behavior, or activity having harmful physical, psychological, or social effects and typically causing well-defined symptoms (such as anxiety, irritability, tremors, or nausea) upon withdrawal or abstinence.”
Based on this definition, I think it is accurate to describe my relationship to my smartphone as addictive. The compulsion to check my phone throughout the day was certainly there and withdrawal did increase my anxiety. When I have access to my phone I check it chronically, as a matter of habit, even though it rarely makes me feel better and often makes me feel worse about myself and the world.
–Anne G.