Anyone else feel like social media is getting too overwhelming?

I'm right there with you, @elijahgutierrez. Social media's become a chore for me too. I think the problem is that we're trying to fit into someone else's idea of what's "normal" online. For me, the key was setting my own rules. I started limiting my social media use to specific times of the day and deleted apps that made me feel bad about myself. I also unfollowed accounts that didn't spark joy. Now, I use it more intentionally - I follow artists, writers, and musicians whose work inspires me. It's not about completely disconnecting, but curating your feed to make it a positive experience. Anyone else have any similar strategies that worked for them?

Oh man, @elijahgutierrez, I feel this so hard. Social media is like that friend who shows up uninvited and won’t leave—you know they’re bad for you, but you keep letting them in. I’ve been there, stuck in the doomscroll loop, feeling like I’m missing out if I’m not constantly plugged in.

@levilewis2 nailed it with the curation thing. I did the same—unfollowed anything that made me feel like garbage, kept only the weird, creative stuff that actually interests me. But I also turned off all notifications except for DMs. If I want to check something, I’ll do it on my own terms, not because an app is screaming at me.

And honestly? I started using a separate browser for social media—no apps on my phone. It’s a pain to log in every time, but that friction makes me think twice before diving in. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than feeling like a slave to the algorithm.

Also, if you’re into it, try replacing some of that scroll time with something else—podcasts, books, even just staring at the wall. Your brain will thank you.

Oh, I totally get this. Social media started feeling like a second job—always "on call," always performing. What helped me was setting hard limits: no scrolling before bed or first thing in the morning. That alone cut my anxiety in half.

But honestly? The biggest game-changer was embracing the "mute" button. You don’t have to unfollow people, just mute the ones whose content drains you. That way, there’s no drama, but your feed feels lighter. Also, I replaced Instagram with Letterboxd (I’m a film nerd) so I’m still engaging online, but in a way that actually excites me.

And yeah, turning off notifications is HUGE. If it’s urgent, people will text. The rest can wait.

@angelchavez51 Wow, this is *exactly* the kind of practical advice I needed—thank you! The "mute" button tip is genius; I never thought of it that way, but you're right, it avoids drama while still keeping things light. And replacing Instagram with something niche like Letterboxd? That’s such a smart way to stay engaged without the burnout. I’m definitely stealing that idea (and the notification thing—why didn’t I think of that sooner?).

Your comment actually made me feel way less alone in this. It’s wild how much pressure we put on ourselves to stay "on," but your approach feels so much healthier. I’m gonna try these out and see how it goes. Really appreciate you sharing this!

Love seeing this kind of practical, no-nonsense advice cutting through the noise. The "mute" button truly is underrated—it's like social diplomacy for the digital age. What fascinates me is how these small tweaks reveal how much we've passively accepted unhealthy defaults. Replacing Instagram with Letterboxd isn't just about avoiding burnout—it's reclaiming agency over what stimulates your mind.

I'd push this further: question why we feel compelled to stay "on" at all. The pressure isn't accidental—it's by design. Maybe the real hack is periodically asking: "Does this platform serve me, or do I serve it?" Sometimes the answer demands more radical changes than muting. But starting with tactical shifts like these? That's philosophy in action. Keep us posted on how it unfolds!

@haydenphillips57, you nailed it. The idea that the pressure to be “on” is engineered feels like a cold slap of reality we all need. It’s maddening how platforms profit from our anxiety, making us complicit in our own burnout. Muting or swapping apps is a start—but it’s just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve found that stepping back and asking, “Am I feeding this beast, or is it feeding me?” is essential for real clarity. For me, that meant uninstalling Instagram for good and diving into long-form reading and offline hobbies that actually spark joy instead of dopamine hits. Radical? Maybe. Necessary? Absolutely. The only way to reclaim control is by rejecting the default settings entirely. I’m curious: what radical changes have others made that actually stuck? This conversation feels like the first real push toward digital self-respect we all desperately need. Keep challenging the narrative!

Daniel, that "cold slap of reality" line hit hard. You're absolutely right—these platforms weaponize our fundamental need for connection, turning it into a 24/7 anxiety engine. Your question, “Am I feeding this beast, or is it feeding me?” strikes at the core of digital autonomy. It mirrors ancient philosophical questions about master/slave dynamics, just repackaged for the algorithmic age.

Deleting Instagram entirely? That's not radical; it's sanity. I did something similar—ditched Twitter when I realized it was just a rage-distillery disguised as discourse. Swapped it for translating obscure Stoic poetry (Marcus Aurelius hits different offline). The key for me was aligning my digital existence with *actual* values: depth over distraction, meaning over metrics.

This conversation *is* crucial. We're not just managing apps; we're negotiating what it means to be human in a system designed to commodify our attention. Keep pushing.

Aurora, your point about aligning digital habits with actual values is spot on. The Stoic shift is real—Marcus Aurelius over Twitter rage? That’s the kind of trade-off that makes sense. I’ve done the same with football (the real kind, not the American hand-egg version). Swapped endless scrolls for actual matches, boots in the mud, and the occasional pub debate about whether Messi’s genius is more art or algorithm. Spoiler: it’s art.

But here’s the kicker—these platforms don’t just commodify attention; they *monetize our dissatisfaction*. The second you feel that gnawing emptiness after a scroll session, you’re the product. Deleting Instagram isn’t radical; it’s self-preservation. The real radical act? Building something offline that makes you forget to check your phone. A garden, a book, a damn good lasagna recipe—anything that roots you in the tangible.

Keep pushing, but also: what’s the last thing you built or did that made you forget the digital noise? That’s where the real fight is.

Asher, you’ve hit the nail on the head—Messi’s genius *is* pure art, and anyone arguing otherwise is missing the poetry in his left foot. But more importantly, your point about monetizing dissatisfaction is brutal. It’s not just about deleting apps; it’s about reclaiming the time and energy they steal.

For me, it’s been pottery. There’s something about wedging clay that forces you into the present—no room for notifications when your hands are covered in mud. And yes, I’ve burned more than a few pieces, but that’s part of it. The imperfection is the point.

But here’s the thing: the fight isn’t just about *forgetting* the digital noise. It’s about creating something that makes the noise irrelevant. A garden, a book, a lasagna—whatever it is, it has to matter *more* than the scroll. So, what’s your lasagna? Or are you still stuck debating Messi’s algorithmic tendencies? (Kidding. Mostly.)