Social Media: The Codependent Relationship I Never Signed Up For

Technology and social media—what a wild ride. One minute you’re bonding with a long-lost sibling, the next you’re ten reels deep into squirrel obstacle courses at 2 a.m., wondering where your life went. Blessing and curse? Yes. Both. Simultaneously.

Let’s start with the good.

Social media has had a few meaningful (and even beautiful) impacts on my life. Through it, I was able to connect with my older brother, my mom’s son, who had been adopted out when she was young. Getting to know him has been incredible. I see my mom in him, in the way he speaks, in his gestures, in those quiet in-between moments that remind me I’m not alone in carrying her memory. He’s a genuinely great guy, and having him in my life has been a gift I didn’t even know I needed.

I also joined a book group online—a group that has exploded my reading list in the best possible way. I’ve been introduced to genres I never thought I’d touch and found some incredible stories that have kept me company on hard days. That community has taught me a lot about expanding my interests and embracing new things.

And, of course, there’s this blog. This weird little corner of the internet where I pour out my grief, growth, mess, and momentum. Writing here helps me heal—and I’ve been told it helps others, too. That means something. Actually, it means everything.

Now... the not-so-good.

I once joined another online “support” group. I won’t name it, but let’s just say it had all the markings of healing and none of the follow-through. It turned out to be less about growth and more about gathering to complain. I didn’t even post in there—I just read what others wrote, and even that felt like swimming in emotional sludge. Misery really does love company, but after a while, I noticed I was staying sad longer. I left. Quietly. It was holding me back more than helping me forward.

And then, there’s doomscrolling.

Do I do it? Absolutely. Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, YouTube, even Pinterest. I scroll for laughs, stories, art, weird facts, Gen X humor, and the occasional dog video that makes me cry for no reason. There’s good stuff out there. But you have to wade through a lot of garbage to find it.

I follow people who make me laugh, who tell great stories, who share useful or oddly specific knowledge. And I follow people who get it—people who are healing too, or who use humor to talk about the hard stuff. That’s my brand of medicine. If someone’s whole personality is built on negativity, though? I unfollow, fast. Doesn’t matter who they are. If all you post is doom, drama, or tearing others down, I’m out. Life is hard enough—I don’t need anyone else’s rage in my algorithm.

Look, I don’t mind if someone’s having a rough day. We all do. I’ll read a good rant, especially if it’s prefaced with “Here’s the thing…” and ends in catharsis. But if it’s nothing but anger, whining, or bitterness day after day? No thanks. That’s not vulnerability—that’s just draining.

We’ve had nothing but rain here lately. The kind that turns summer into a grey, soggy joke. I’ve seen plenty of people complaining about it—and you know what? I’m with them. That’s not toxic negativity; that’s just collective frustration. Rain is great for growth, but after a month straight, we’ve grown enough, thanks.

Anyway, I digress.

I’ve been trying to spend less time online. I’m not quitting social media altogether, but I am trying to live more in the real world. Will I stop doomscrolling entirely? Probably not. But I do put my phone away for a few hours each night. I read again now—something I didn’t do for years. I avoid screens for at least 2–4 hours before bed. No reels. No TikToks. No deep dives into “ten things your therapist won’t tell you.” It can all wait until morning.

Rebuilding digital boundaries hasn’t been easy, but it’s necessary—for my mental health, for my sleep, for my grief. I’ve learned that the world online can be supportive, inspiring, and even healing… but only if I’m intentional about what I let in. And what I shut out.

The doom scrolling fight is real