Navigating the social media atmosphere can be challenging and overwhelming for anyone, but for those with mental illnesses, the online world can be an especially scary place. As someone who is diagnosed with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), I can attest to having had a very unique virtual experience. Most of the time, I feel like I am walking on thin ice. My personal information could be leaked. My identity could be stolen. My privacy could be compromised. At every advertisement, site redirection, or cookies notification, I wonder: What are the chances that my phone gets hacked? Can someone access my photos without my consent and post them? What about text messages? If I leave my Instagram account open in the tabs, does that increase my vulnerability to online predators? Of course these are valid worries, but to an obsessive-compulsive who lives in the internet age like myself, these reasons cause constant paranoia.
At this moment, my capacity to use logical reasoning and rationality are compromised. My delusional thought patterns take the wheel instead. I think to myself: what is a tried and true method I can use to self-soothe? What is the fastest solution? More often than not, I choose the behavior that offers me quick relief: obsessive checking. It’s like spring cleaning for your iPhone (but on a daily basis). In this process, I check my social media profiles, text messages, emails, and search histories to find any trace of computer viruses or bugs. The ironic part is, I don’t even know what I’m looking for. It is the conscious act of cleaning, deleting, and erasing that gives me comfort and reassurance. So, I give in to every intrusive thought, and submit to these demands. Sounds exhausting, I know.
But I have found a way to reduce the compulsion; I named it. I know that sounds silly, but it actually works. By naming the behavioral response, I am actively separating my identity from my anxieties and taking away their power. I am compartmentalizing the anxious feelings and thoughts into something bite-sized and manageable. Whenever I find myself struggling with an intrusive thought, I remember its disorder moniker: Mr. Anxiety.
“Hello, Mr. Anxiety. Back again, I see. It’s ok. You can stay here for a couple of minutes, but then I am going to have to let you go.”
Granted this is not the most creative name, but this separate character allows me to gain control of the steering wheel and become the pilot of my own thoughts. Better yet, it reminds me that I am not my thoughts. Because of this tool, my social media experience has been much more positive. I scroll with intention and I self-monitor my thoughts and feelings in reaction to different images, sounds, and words. If a troublesome thought arises, I know that Mr. Anxiety paid a visit. Nothing more, nothing less.
In this new digital era, people with mental illnesses are presented with new unforeseen challenges that the average person would not even care to think about. But from one obsessive-compulsive to another, I hear you and I hear your struggle. I urge you to look into the eyes of your compulsion beast and face it. Name it. Personify it. Give it ugly hair and yellow teeth. Acknowledge it, but do not fight it. Observe it, but do not be it. Let it pass through your consciousness like a sea otter floating down a river. You are not your compulsion beast.