How the future is slowly killing me

I was shaking uncontrollably. It started with my hands, and I remember holding them to my face, looking at my own flesh as though it were foreign. The tremor quickly traveled down my arms and legs, and within seconds, my whole body was vibrating as though every atom in my being had matched a resonant frequency and moved me in unison at a macro level.  I didn’t know where I was – I was in a taxi. I forgot where I was going – I was traveling to an airport. I couldn’t remember why I was there – I was flying home.
But I did know how I felt -I was scared.

In that moment, my body revolted against my life decisions and was denying me, with every ounce of its being, the ability to keep going forward towards that airport. I was afraid that if I showed up at LaGuardia for my flight to Toronto, I would instead get on a flight to a far corner of the world. I couldn’t bear facing my real life. I was a broken down, husk of a human, shaking uncontrollably in the back of a taxi, unable to form coherent sentences to describe what was happening to one of my closest friends on the phone. And it was set off by a buzz in my pocket.

“Beyond our basic commodities and needs, the only economy that should matter is the happiness economy”

That buzz was one notification too many; it was my life pleading for attention when I had nothing left to give. It was the reminder that my phone was the portal to so many issues. I had been dealing with an inordinate amount of personal and professional anxiety and was trying and failing to remotely deal with serious health issues in multiple family members. I had been traveling for months, juggling difficult and demanding clients, and questioning the value and purpose of my work. I felt guilt for losing touch with close friends and drank to bury it since I couldn’t confront it head on.

This wasn’t an isolated episode. I get anxious, depressed, and near manic at times, but I don’t tell anyone that. The irony of announcing this via magazine is not lost on me, however. If I don’t speak up, I am fueling the problem that plagues me. My struggle and mental health challenges are not completely of an internal origin, but a product of the increasingly technologized life I creep towards with each passing tomorrow.
I’m legitimately concerned that the future is trying to kill me.

“In the spring of 2014, I had an anxiety attack in the back of a taxi. I use modifiers to soften that statement – anxiety thingy, panicky moment, nervous episode – but I’ve learned enough to know what really happened.”

I’ve had a complicated relationship with technology, as it historically fascinated me and gave me a tangible outlet for envisioning the future. I chose to get a smart phone in 2009 when I biked across the country to blog updates from the road. These best intentions were the beginnings of something dark.

In the spring of 2014, I had an anxiety attack in the back of a taxi. I use modifiers to soften that statement – anxiety thingy, panicky moment, nervous episode – but I’ve learned enough to know what really happened. It was one of the scariest and most confusing moments of my life. I felt completely helpless and out of control and it was through the kindness and compassion of close friends that I was able to mitigate just how bad the situation could  have become. The silver lining was recognizing the increasingly dangerous impact technology was having on me.

“We’ve traded genuine presence for digital omnipresence. Friendships lapsed and relationships were affected by not being fully present in the moment, as I often wondered what I was missing out on online.”

We’ve traded genuine presence for digital omnipresence. Friendships lapsed and relationships were affected by not being fully present in the moment, as I often wondered what I was missing out on online.
I watched my phone until bedtime. Work suffered from constant popups and notifications sneaking into my field of view.
I had become addicted to technology.

I created barriers and rules to protect me. I banned my smartphone from my room, turned off 80% of my push notifications, left my phone in my pocket, to name a few, to protect myself.

Beyond our basic commodities and needs, the only economy that should matter is the happiness economy. Some derive happiness from aspects of products, services, experiences, or notifications. However, it’s easy to lose sight of this and contribute more to the problem – in this case, mental health – than the solution: happiness.

“I want to see if there are more smiles from a hug than a “like.” I want to see if I’m happier with quality over quantity.”

Expect better of yourself. As trends shift social power and awareness away from end users and towards organizations, be vigilant on maintaining the power you have. Curate technology to provide joy over burdens. Set your own rules and limits to decide what’s harmful, unacceptable, and what makes you happy.

I’m rediscovering my happiness economy by living more analog again. I had my fun with social media, dove into the deep end of the digital world, and lived as a modern-day cyborg.
I want to see if there are more smiles from a hug than a “like.” I want to see if I’m happier with quality over quantity. Will I miss certain of the online world? Probably.  Will I see much more by regaining my focus, presence, and energy in the things I chose to engage with completely? We’ll see.

I am, however, realizing that the old adage of “less is more” may hold true.