Oh my gosh, have you heard the news? Phones are bad for us!

my journey toward more freedom from phone addiction (spoiler alert: we are very much in process)

Welcome to this tiny corner of the internet where an off-duty psychotherapist keeps the conversation going on how to make sense of this life thing we’re all doing. If you ever wondered what your therapist does off the clock—which, who among us hasn’t?—this is like that. Think of it as the adult equivalent of seeing your elementary school teacher at the grocery store picking out lemons. 🍋

One thing before we jump in, I show up very much as myself here. Myself first, and all my other labels are secondary. If a therapist speaking candidly feels like too much to your system, that is absolutely is OK and this may not be the best particular newsletter for you.

Just here reporting the hottest and most innovative takes.

Jkjkjkjkjk.

I’m also not good for my phone. Look at this POS.

Today’s exploration came by way of a podcast club I do with some of my gal friends. We meet monthly to do a deep dive into a singular episode of a podcast. It reminds me a bit of the Slow Read

kelly johnson

is doing on

THE OPT OUT

with Sheila Hati’s Motherhood by book clubin’ chunks of the book at a time. As someone who craves depth, I LOVE this idea and I love it hard.

Passive consumption of media has become such a part of our lives. No wonder meaningless and worthlessness threaten around ever corner. This is probably why I’m drawn to the work of

Emma Gray

and

Claire Fallon

and their newsletter,

Rich Text

. I want to be an active participant in what I watch, read, listen to. I want to engage with it, be changed by it.

I’ve digressed.

Our most recent club was on Jonathan Haidt’s interview on The Ezra Klein Show.¹ This was a part of the seemingly never-ending media blitz for his 2024 book, The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness. My friends picked this one sort of tongue in cheek, because I got a bit heated about Haidt at a previous meeting. I’m suspicious of any white man who makes sweeping generalizations about people and what they need to do, particularly when it pertains to young people. Paternalistic rhetoric makes my hackles go up—SUE ME.

This, however, doesn’t mean I can’t see areas where we align. He wants legislation to make it harder for kids to be on social media. To encourage parents to slow down before getting their kids a smart phone.

Fine. I still have criticisms.

• The broadness of his statements. Do I think phones unilaterally caused the uptick in mental health diagnoses? No. I suspect it’s a symptom. An accelerant—quite like other addictive processes and substances.

• His boner for stoicism feels incomplete to me. As an IFS-trained therapist,² I find utility in slowing down to notice our frustrations and what they may be signaling to us. I’ve written before, many times, about how “resilience” has caused its own damage for me at times.

• The way he waves the word morality around feels slippery to me.

• One of my biggest head tilting moments in the interview is when Klein acknowledges it may not be enough to put age limits on this. If it’s OK at 19, but not 15, 16 aren’t we just delaying the descent into phone and social media addiction? It felt a bit to me Haidt discounted how important our habits as adults are in helping kids be phone and social media literate.

Obviously it’s different and more urgent for children, the prefrontal cortex and all that, but and I think what we do around them does matter.

For them. For us.

I thought I would be imparting great wisdom to my son left, right and center through words (I love words, this thing is called dialoguing after all), but as I’ve said before, he doesn’t give a shit what I say. He does, however, care a lot about what I do.

If I have any chance of fostering a healthier relationship with phones and social media for him, I need to understand my own relationship to these things better.

Who am I kidding? It’s honestly about me, but he’s a good excuse to get my ass in gear.

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I recently celebrated two years of sobriety from alcohol. My current situation with my phone is similar to how I used to feel with alcohol.

• It takes up a lot of brain space. It steals a lot of time.

• I’ve come up with a lot of rules and strategies to try to curb the lost time and internal distress and shame, but none of them work.

• The pull. Oooo, the pull. Almost magnetic I can feel my body moving toward the pick-up before I even send a signal. Sleep-walking awake.

• I compare. Well, a lot of other people use their phone more than me.

This last one got stuck in my teeth the other day.

Yeah, it’s true. This was the case with drinking, too. Ultimately, that metric–other people and what they do–did nothing for tending to the relationship I have with myself.

I started to wonder, “Maybe this tether to my phone doesn’t make me a uniquely BAD person. Maybe it’s not about my character at all. If I take good or bad off the table, what is left?”³

What is left is something about how I engage with my phone doesn’t feel right and I know I’m capable of making changes. Of being an active participant.

Here are some things I’ve been trying.

I put my phone on grayscale

This was a tip I saw from

Valerie

on Notes and I’ll be forever grateful.

There are times where I turn it off, but rarely. Maybe once every other day. I do a little joke where when I turn the color filter back on, I shield my eyes. It is startling how vibrant the colors are after not seeing them for awhile. I also have a little routine I do about how this was how phones looked back in the 1920’s.

Keeping myself entertained since birth, y’all.

Putting it out of sight

If I’m not actively using my phone, it goes somewhere not in my eye line. Somewhere I’d need to do some labor to get to it.

At work while I meet with clients, it’s on airplane mode somewhere tucked away.

At home, I leave it in the kitchen. It charges there when I go to bed at night.⁴ It’s there when I watch TV. I keep a notebook with me in case there are intrusive thoughts that need to be cataloged. The pleasure of watching TV without getting distracted by the⁵ phone honestly feels nostalgic. Which inadvertently helped me be more discerning about what I watch. No more second-screen viewing for me.

I’m starting to think of it less as an extension of me—something always in my hand or pocket—and more like a computer. I wouldn’t have my laptop open and out while having dinner. Nor would I get a harness, a la Nathan Fielder, to take it with me on a walk through the park…although what a lewk.

Photo: Courtesy of HBO

Delay

Having my phone in a different room works in tandem with this tactic. Instead of grabbing it first thing in the morning, it’s not there to grab. So instead, I’m brushing my teeth, washing my face, greeting my husband, kiddo and cat. These are much more nurturing first encounters for my day. I do still think about going to get it many, many times. I notice it. “That’s OK. It makes sense.” I say to no one other than myself.

Sometimes having an urge at all causes shame–we forget, it’s just a thought; not a behavior; not a reflection of our goodness or badness. What often follows shame is a case of the fuck it’s.

“Might as well look since I’m not strong enough to not have an urge.”

This is where the conversation with myself comes in. “It’s OK. It makes sense. Oh honey, we all got ‘em. The phone is an addictive thing. The pull is not on you. You do not need to respond to it, though. Like a phone ringing, you can just let it ring.”

If I can wait to look at it until I’ve dropped off our son at school, the pull to look transforms into a “Do I have to?” A classic example of urge surfing.

Even if an hour delay in the morning isn’t in the cards, any amount of delaying to get a sense of what the urges feel like–and the discomfort that comes with and our capacity to float it—can help with feeling more spaciousness in our decision making. It’s similar to Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) in OCD treatment. Choice, rather than compulsion.

Intentional Transitions

Getting too deep about transitions is kind of my thing.

While airplane mode at work helps with not engaging with my phone during that part of my day, it can make the transition out of work feel intense.

Sometimes I think of all the different parts of me as a soundboard. Even though I have no idea how soundboards work and just had to google, “soundboard term for the knobs that go up and down,” (they’re called faders) the imagery works.

For instance, when I meet with clients, while I’m not pretending by any means, certain parts of me are less active. Some faders are lower, while other faders are higher, more engaged.

When I’m done with work for the day, the faders that have been lower–ones in charge of tending to my friends and family, ones that want to read, managers who run my logistics–rush in. “Hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi, hi. My turn! My turn!”

While totally fair and tempting to lean into, this is very painful for my therapist parts who have worked with me for hours. The ones who have held a lot. They need a minute with me. I'd equate it to having a deep conversation with someone, going stone-faced and then promptly walking away without saying goodbye.

I ask the parts of me waiting in the wings for a moment longer so I can tend to the parts of me who are about to be off for the day.

While I know not all of you are therapists with this distinct of an on and off, I suspect you can find a part of your day where the pull feels particularly strong. It may be worth it to notice what sort of transition is happening and what may be needed there.

Get curious, and then get specific.

Let’s get to wondering. About these transitions. About why we feel pulled toward our phones.⁶

Just like with drinking, it wasn’t helpful to shame the parts of me who wanted me to pick up my phone every chance I could. It is much more clarifying to understand them. These parts, before I can even tell what is happening, are offering a dopamine hit to comfort me, soothe me, excite me.

For me, beyond the transmitter dance, what I’ve discovered (so far) is I’m looking for:

Validation. While I wont deny how much this newsletter has done for me creatively, the publishing and feedback element of Substack creates a bit of a monster within me. One who is never satiated. If When I want to see how y’all are reacting to a post, rather than compulsively checking (which parts of me really, really want to), I’m working on assigning a certain time of day where I have time and space to not only check but interact–with y’all, with comments, with my feelings that may come up when there is no engagement (looks like a lot of, “It’s not abhorrent to want validation. Tell me more about what you were looking for/what hurts…”)

Entertainment. I may watch some YouTube or the video recording of my new favorite podcast.

Connection. Texting or calling friends. Looking at pictures of my son. A quick blast of oxytocin if I’ve ever had one.

Information/Intellectual stimulation. I’m a nerd through and through. I love to read. I want to read everyone’s Substack. I have hundreds of pieces bookmarked on NYT and The Cut.

While validation can suck me into compulsive behaviors which feel internally quite yucky (very clinical term), my desire for entertainment and information keeps me stuck. When it’s these two, setting timers helps.

I do a little negotiating. “Yes, I see you want to wander free on the internet. Fair. It can be fun. We also have other parts here that may want to go for a walk or watch TV in this free time we have. What do you say we allocate 30 minutes to the internet wandering?”⁷

I can’t and won't disregard all these aspects of myself–and my phone can be a portal to attend to those needs. It doesn’t have to be. Lots of offline ways to meet those needs, too.

Once I have a better sense of what I’m needing in any one moment, I’m better able to give whatever that is to myself.

If I don’t do this and grab my phone willy-nilly without a sense of what I’m looking for, it’d be like going to the grocery store day after day, hungry but no sense of what I need there. At first, it’s fine. I’d figure something out. Probably end up with few things I didn’t need, too. But with time it would all pile up. All this stuff I didn’t need. Despite all the money and time spent, never satiated with any real specificity.

I’m sure it’s common for all of us to have moments when we get sucked into the vortex of the phone even when we are specific about what we are looking for.⁸ This is understandable. I will say, the grayscale and other habits here have helped but even when it does happen I gently bring myself back. Kind of like the guidance when meditating: Notice you’ve gone off the rails of your intention and come back to it.

Replacement behaviors

I’ve never found taking away a behavior without ideas of what will go in it’s place to be helpful. Thankfully, I got nothing but ideas.

With this time returned to me, I’ve been working on a running schedule. I’m hankering for some creative works with my hands (e.g., pottery, embroidery). I’ve got writing and reading more on my mind. Taking myself back to informal school⁹ and fucking relaxing? Do you ever do that? Just sit and look up and out. It’s lovely. 10 out of 10 would recommend.

With enough time where it feels normal to use my phone sparingly I won’t need a plan, but for now this helps.

Related to delaying and transitions, one thing I’ve noticed with urges is the reaching or even touching the phone without intention. I’ve been trying to notice when this happens, pausing and having a replacement behavior. Maybe a hand on my heart to feel my breath rise and fall, heart beating. I could see a little jumping jack or stretch being a useful pattern disruption.

Next steps:

To aid in this untethering, I’m realizing I need to get a watch and an alarm clock.¹⁰ I wish I could live beyond the clock–situations where I don’t need to know what time it is are my happiest of places–but as a therapist who works on the 50 minute interval and mother, freedom from time in my day-to-day is rare. A watch and alarm clock will ease any excuses about needing to have my phone to keep track of time.

I’m trying to be mindful of what I buy so I personally wouldn't start with it, but I know a few people who use the Brick—basically turns your phone into a “dumb” phone. My ultimate goal is to not have my phone on me as much so this doesn’t scratch my particular itch.

I love a little challenge so I’ll be committing to these practices until at least August. I will report back how it felt, what I struggled with and hopefully what I was able to experience with less phone dependence. Look for this in my July round-up for paid subscribers.

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You may be thinking, “But ma'am, I’m reading this on a phone…you’re kind of working against yourself here.” And to that, I have no argument. It’s meta. Quite like my job as a therapist, ultimately the better I am at my job, the closer I am to putting myself out of business. If reading this or being a subscriber to my newsletter feels like something misaligned with what your phone gives you rather than what it takes, I understand if you need to hop on the off-ramp.

Questions for you:

1. Have you tried any of these habits? Any of your own hacks?

2. How do you feel when you’re without your phone? Do you notice these compulsions to have it on you, reach for it, etc?

3. Anyone wanna join me in trying this?

• Coming up: A few pieces: one on therapy aftercare and another on what other people bring out in us. Also wanting to do a summery dialoguing on dialogue piece—when y’all voted you said Something’s Gotta Give was the winner. I will have one Monday off this month, not sure if it will be next week or the following, but have no fear I’ll be back either way <3.

• Disclaiming: Therapy can be great. This ain’t therapy. You can find more info and my full disclaimer on my about page here. Abridged version: I’m a therapist, but not your therapist—even if you are a client of mine ~hi, dear one!~ this isn’t a session. I don’t think you could possibly confuse this newsletter with mental health treatment. Alas if that were to happen, let me say definitively, dialoguing is an entertainment and informational newsletter only, not a substitute for mental health treatment. To find a mental health provider, Psychology Today or Zencare can be a place to start. I am an affiliate of Bookshop.org—an organization that supports local independent bookstores. I may earn a small commission if you click through and make a purchase. The thoughts and feelings written here are all my own.

• Come say hi! Any comments, questions, suggestions, please feel free to email me at dialoguingsubstack@gmail.com—or if you’re reading this via email you can hit reply and send me a message. Love hearing from you for any and all reasons!

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ICYMI:

• "Let's Talk Therapy" with Leslie Stephens

• reflecting on two years of sobriety

• May round up of Fairy smut, Amy Polo, and surrendering to the bangs

• Quick therapisty thoughts on The Four Seasons: Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter

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• a monthly round-up series, say more, where I explore what I'm watching, reading, listening to, eating and moving to and what it made me feel. These newsletters are a labor of love and tend to be more personal in their own specific way—sometimes writing about things I’m grappling with in real time. They have been described as “epic.” One reader said she “devour[s] them like a giant dessert.

• the entire archive of 80+ newsletters and counting. pieces like:

  • How Liz Gilbert, with one phrase, changed the way I show up for myself.

  • 33 thoughts while watching 'Nobody Wants This’ from an off-duty therapist

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1. I gifted the transcript for those who don’t have a NYT subscription. I tried to figure out know how to gift a NYT audio and I wasn’t able to figure it out. If you know how, let me know

2. For more on IFS, I personally think this piece on Taylor Swift is the best and weirdest way I’ve fleshed it all out, ha! Or this one with it applied to undesirable feelings that come up in parenting.

3. It’s like alcohol, about the basic fact that it’s addictive, built to be addictive.

4. My son is currently my alarm clock so I don’t need my phone for that

5. I find referring to it as “the” phone rather than “my” phone to be helpful.

6. I’m personally less concerned with the run of the mill, more practical uses–bank information, maps, school communication, email–because I feel a specific need being met and cleared.

7. You may be wondering where the Instagram is in all this, but I’ve been off it since late 2020. I did it in solidarity with a client trying to stop and it stuck, thankfully.

8. Small linguistic thing, but I find referring to it as the phone rather than my phone to assist in the untying of myself from it.

9. I got into an in-person (!!!) Level 2 training for IFS around Addictions and Eating Disorders in November so I’m getting ahead of the reading requirements. So excited to have this experience and bring some of what I glean from it back to this community <3

10. While I don’t need an alarm clock in the AM, if I take a nap, I’d like to have something other than my phone for the alarm. I’m looking into the Loftie and Hatch Restore. Anyone tried these or others yet? I’m very open to watch suggestions. I’ve literally never bought one.