Doomscrolling: How Social Media Keeps You Too Tired to Fight

You’re being turned numb on purpose.

This isn’t “too much screen time.” It’s an information system that keeps you flooded, polarized, and exhausted enough that you stop believing you can do anything about what you’re seeing.

Your feed is not neutral

You already know the feeling: you open your phone “for a minute” and surface an hour later, pissed off, anxious, and somehow more tired than when you started. You’ve seen five new scandals, three disasters, and a fresh pile of bad takes; none of which you can actually resolve.

That is not an accident. Your feed is built to chase attention, not truth or agency. Outrage, fear, and drama are the easiest ways to grab that attention. A calm, nuanced explanation of power doesn’t keep you scrolling. A clip that makes you furious at strangers does.

If you feel “informed but paralyzed,” that’s the product.

How your attention gets weaponized

Algorithms are simple: they learn what makes people tap, pause, and come back. Rage, shock, humiliation, and tribal victory laps do that incredibly well. So your feed becomes a slot machine of:

  • Clips that make you hate or mock “the other side.”

  • Headlines that promise catastrophe or betrayal in every direction.

  • Stories that start strong but never offer follow‑through or resolution.

Over time, that constant jolt of tension rewires how you see the world:

  • Everything looks like a crisis.

  • Everyone looks either stupid, evil, or powerless.

  • Nothing looks like it has a clear path to fixing.

That’s the perfect mindset for someone who will vent online and do nothing offline.

Polarization as a control tool

The more polarized your feed is, the more it feels like you’re living in a war. Not a class war, not a struggle against concentrated power, but a never‑ending battle against people with the wrong yard signs, pronouns, flags, or podcasts.

The machinery does a few specific things really well:

  • It constantly feeds you the worst examples of “the other side” so you forget there are regular humans over there.

  • It pushes content that implies your enemies are everywhere and your allies are rare.

  • It rewards you for dunking, subtweeting, and piling on more than it rewards you for listening or organizing.

If you’re always fighting strangers in the comments, you have no time or emotional bandwidth left to build anything with your neighbors. Polarization is a feature that keeps potential allies busy tearing each other apart.

Information overload → numbness

Your brain cannot process endless unresolved crisis.

What usually happens:

  • At first, you try to keep up with everything.

  • Then you start to notice nothing ever gets resolved. There is no justice, no closure, just a new scandal.

  • Eventually, your nervous system taps out. You feel tired all the time, cynical, and vaguely disgusted.

That’s when numbness kicks in. You still scroll, but it’s more like background noise than real attention. You see horrifying things and feel… almost nothing. Just a tired “of course.”

That numbness is not proof you don’t care. It is a protective response to a firehose of problems you’re never given tools to solve.

The moment you notice the pattern

The spell starts to crack when you ask a few simple questions:

  • Why does almost nothing I see come with a realistic action attached to it?

  • Why do the loudest voices spend more time on outrage than on strategy?

  • Who benefits from me being angry at everything and useful to no one?

Because when content only gives you rage and no path, it’s emotional extraction. You’re the mine. Your feelings are the ore.

Once you see that, you stop taking your reactions so personally. You can say: “Of course I feel numb and scattered. I’ve been run through a machine built to make me that way.”

And that’s where you get your leverage back.

Breaking the spell: mental rules

You don’t need a perfect detox or a cabin in the woods. You need a few rules that turn you from prey into editor.

Try these:

  • If it only makes me mad, it’s junk. Any piece of content that leaves you furious but doesn’t offer context, direction, or a next step is emotional spam. Treat it that way.

  • Ask “who benefits from me feeling this?” If the answer is “ad platforms, pundits, and politicians who fundraise off fear,” maybe they don’t deserve your attention today.

  • Remember your brain has limits. You’re not meant to carry every horror on Earth in your pocket. It’s okay—necessary—to say “this is too much for me right now” and step back.

This is not becoming “positive,” it is becoming unprogrammable.

Breaking the spell: feed hygiene

Then you change the inputs.

You don’t have to blow up your accounts. You can start with small, ruthless edits:

  • Set hard time windows for doomscrolling.
    For example: 15–20 minutes in the evening, not all day. When the time’s up, you’re done. No negotiation.

  • Mute or unfollow three outrage farms.
    You already know who they are: accounts that never offer solutions, only rage, ridicule, or despair. You don’t owe them your nervous system.

  • Add a few “signal” sources.
    Follow people or outlets that:
    • Explain how systems work, not just that they’re evil.
    • Share small wins, not just losses.
    • Offer concrete actions, not just takes.

The point is not to curate a “good vibes only” bubble. The point is to make sure the ratio of noise to signal isn’t 100 to 1.

Replacing doom with direction

You don’t have to quit the internet to get your brain back. You just reassign some of your attention.

Swap out a slice of passive scrolling for:

  • One longform piece a week that goes deep on a topic you care about instead of 100 shallow posts that just spike your anxiety.

  • Voices from the ground—organizers, workers, local reporters—rather than just professional hosts and commentators.

  • Local information: city council fights, school board decisions, tenant issues, workplace stories. The closer it is to your real life, the more power you have to affect it.

This isn’t becoming “informed” in some abstract civic sense. It’s feeding your brain things it can actually turn into decisions and action, instead of endless panic.

A 7‑day experiment

You don’t have to believe any of this yet. Just test it.

For the next 7 days:

  • Cap doomscrolling to a specific time and total minutes per day.

  • Mute or unfollow at least three accounts that only farm your anger.

  • Add at least one source that explains systems or offers real ways to act.

  • At the end of the week, ask yourself:
    • Do I feel less wrung out?
    • Do I feel more capable of making choices?
    • Am I a little less obsessed with people I’ll never meet and a little more tuned into my own life?

If the answer is even slightly yes, that’s proof the numbness wasn’t “just who you are.” It was a reaction to what you were being fed.

Where this is going

Part one was about seeing that your “apathy” is a rational response to a rigged system.


Part two is about realizing your mind has been turned into a battlefield and you can start reclaiming it.

Part three will take that clearer head and turn it into a lane (Signal, Support, or Disrupt) so you’re not just less numb, you’re actually aimed at something.

Because once you stop letting them script your emotions, you’re a lot harder to manage.

Stay curious.

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