I attempted to go one week without my phone, among other electronic devices, to see if I had the true willpower that seemingly no man has anymore.
Come to find out – I don’t. I failed miserably.
Regardless, I documented portions of my journey to show how difficult it really is to go without a phone in such a technological age.
First, I set some ground rules:
-NO social media, whatsoever. Twitter, Facebook, not even my beloved YouTube, which essentially rules out all forms of viral videos.
-NO texting, pictures, games, etc.
-Phone calls ONLY for emergencies i.e. dad informing me of his latest purchase of Cheech & Chong’s Big Bambu on vinyl with the original rolling paper.
-Computer usage is solely for checking email, homework, and occasionally minesweeper.
-No streaming services. Spotify, Netflix, Seeso, etc. Only use media I own myself. DVDs, VHS tapes, CDs, cassettes, etc.
With the ground rules in place, I was ready to start my week without genuine, virtual connection, but there were a few things I needed to purchase.
Originally, I had this elaborate plan that included buying an old Compaq computer and setting it up in my living room next to my hamster, Bernie. To me, that seemed like a pretty 90s-esque thing to do. I didn’t want the slim, flat-screen model, but rather a faded, cream-colored version that took up at least half of the room to accommodate. Unfortunately, most computers of this style didn’t stand the test of time, making great additions to Chuck D’s Junk Yard.
I scratched that idea and stuck with my iMac.
Next, I was going to install a landline and then I realized that landlines aren’t free. Crossed another off the list.
I had to completely dismiss the text message idea because I pick my girlfriend up from Goodwill where she works (oddly the place that didn’t have Compaq computers). I suggested calling and voicemail, but apparently those are outdated, archaic forms of communication.
Sunday night, the night before going wireless, I had to get just one more fix of my Facebook feed before going to sleep. In that moment, I felt like Renton from Trainspotting, begging for one last hit of heroin before going sober.
It was a horrid moment. To think I can’t go one night without 'informing' myself is just sad.
I logged out, took some melatonin, and closed my eyes.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of my alarm coming from my cell phone. I was off to a great start.
I typically arrive at work twenty minutes late, but luckily no one of importance is ever there.
Because I'm an office assistant at the front desk, there is, naturally, a computer. It’s like they want me to fail.
I stare at the blank screen for about ten minutes, looking at my wild, bed-head through the reflection of the black mirror, widening my eyes to make it seem as though I am more awake than I am. My instincts were to press the power button, but I retracted my hand and, instead, went for a book in my bag: Jon Stewart’s Naked Pictures of Famous People.
After chuckling over the section covering Martha Stewart’s vagina, I quickly slipped into major boredom, the most serious of all the boredoms. You get hot. Your upper lip starts to quiver and your hands shake uncontrollably. You drink coffee just for fun. You become hyper-aware of how boring you really are. Your hand reaches for your phone.
SLAP!
Your other hand smacks it! Part of you knows your eyes will be glued to its eternal brightness until you’ve successfully browsed all forms of social media! Part of you is still alive!
Your phone buzzes.
It’s probably just a Snapchat notification. Don’t worry about it.
BUZZ!
You can’t look at it yet. You’ll look weak! Read the Jewish guy's interpretation of other Jews and forget you ever heard the vibration in the first place.
Two buzzes, one right after the other.
You start to sweat. Oh, but what if it's an emergency? If you don’t answer it, you’ll regret this entire, little scheme. If you do answer it, you’ll look weak. You're a hamster attempting to escape your impenetrable, glass prison; a catch-22.
Another buzz.
Unlock your phone!
A Pokémon GO notification.
You gave in just for that? You’re weak. You suck. And no one likes you.
Thank you, internal thoughts. Now I don’t have to go online to be slandered.
I checked on my Bulbasaur I haven’t cared about in two months and unconsciously opened the Facebook app, droning through half my feed, not even aware of that I was failing my own test. After realizing, I knew it was time to stop.
I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go without it.
Social media is like heroin to me, and I'm not alone.
It's impossible to walk anywhere without at least one person having their eyes suction-cupped to a screen. It's insane. I certainly can't go half an hour without checking the time while simultaneously sifting through my notifications. I like to be 'informed,' I guess.
But that word has taken on a completely different meaning.
We’re so caught up with being 'in the loop' that we subconsciously dismiss the time in our lives when we were not. We are addicted in every way possible.
We are dying every second, yet we spend a majority of our day doing, essentially, nothing. This whole 'week without a phone thing' may have been a decent idea, but it's just impossible to stop once you've started. It's a drug.
My dad always gets upset when he sees both my girlfriend and I sitting right next to each other, not conversing, but rather checking emails and playing Panda Pop. I blurted a phrase in response once that startled me.
"This is life now. Embrace it."
Has the government controlled my thoughts? Never have I ever said anything that eloquent or telling in all my twenty-one years. I'm frightened of what I've become.
I truly wish I didn't have a cell phone, but if I got rid of it, people would think I'm dead. I wouldn't exist.
But would that really be so bad?
'Alone' is a word that simply does not have the same connotation as it once did. Alone, we are separated from human connection, but our virtual lives thrive. Imagine you're in your room. What do you see?
A computer in the corner?
Perhaps a TV?
A cellphone in your purse or pocket?
Put all of those materials and place them on the outside of your bedroom door. Now lay on your bed and stare at the ceiling. If you hear your cellphone ring, don't answer it. Just lay there. You won't be comfortable. There will be an inevitable anxiety that washes over your body telling you that something is wrong. That if you don't answer that phone call, you will be in an unthinkable amount of trouble. You'll eventually give in and call back that number, for whatever reason. You will put your materials back in place, and post about your experience on social media.
Your life will reset.
An article in Digital Trends states that Americans spend 4.7 hours of their day checking their phones. I don't even want to do the math. It's just disgusting.
Maybe you'll see that statistic and change your behavior. Perhaps you'll throw your phone into a pond, swearing off all phones that come your way.
But trust me, you'll change your mind. It'll be back. It's a drug. It always comes back.
