Don't Get High On Your Own Supply
Shielding myself from Dementors
I (triumphantly) posted on TikTok every day last week—and I had fun doing it. Many people have warned me that I should not under any circumstances get on TikTok because I was definitely going to fall under its trance, like TikTok’s ONE BILLION active users. “The algorithm!” everyone shouted. The magical sorcery of the algorithm was going to be the end of me. And everyone may very well be right—if I didn’t have a secret ace up my sleeve.
When I was a grad student at USF, I made a pact with myself that I would not—under any circumstances—purchase anything from the Starbucks conveniently located in the lobby of the library. I knew that once I “broke the seal” and bought myself a $5 frappucino, my brain would think it was okay to do so once, twice, five times a week—and that was not a luxury that I could afford on a grad student stipend. So, I made Starbucks off-limits, and I successfully saved that frappucino money over the course of my three years as a student.
This has been my strategy with TikTok. I have yet to watch a single TikTok video on the app (although I do watch the videos that my sister and friends send to me directly on occasion). I have not opened the “for you page” where THE ALGORITHM cues up videos that it knows you’re going to love (because it has scanned your brain and knows you better than you know yourself). I post on the app and I get OUT.
I have made the personal decision that scrolling through TikTok’s “for you page” is off-limits; it’s not something that I will ever do, and therefore I will not create a bad habit that I know will be difficult to undo later on.
There’s a crude saying that I think applies to social media and devices. Don’t get high on your own supply, the saying goes, referring to drug dealers. In the world of Silicon Valley, it’s common knowledge that many of the execs who developed these devices and digital apps don’t let their children anywhere near them, or they themselves go through great lengths not to use them—because they know how dangerously addictive they can be. As for me, I want to use social media to educate people about how to live better lives in a digital-addicted world, but I myself know the power these platforms hold—and so I use them with a LOT of caution.
It was only recently that I downloaded these apps onto my phone and gave myself access to them with a push of a button. And although I have not fallen down the TikTok rabbit hole (yet), that does not mean that I don’t feel the pull of opening the app. I knew this would be the logical outcome of posting on social media; any kind of engagement begets more engagement. Posting on social media means that I am now curious—how many likes did I get? Did I get any new followers? Who is watching/reposting/commenting?
It's hypocritical, you might say. I want lots of people to view my “content” but I refuse to spend a minute of my time viewing anyone else’s content. Yep, that’s exactly what’s happening. I am putting what I have learned about social media into practice. I want to use these platforms as a tool—not as my de facto lifestyle—and that means I must put certain protections in place to protect myself from their addictiveness. Call it my protective shield, like a Patronus from Harry Potter.
If you don’t know what a Patronus is, it’s a guardian that acts as a shield between you and the Dementor, and a Dementor is a dark creature that feeds on human happiness and generates feelings of depression and despair in any person in close proximity to them.
Hm, that comparison isn’t too far off, now is it?