Pause & Reflect Instead of Snippets & Scrolling

Self-care for my nervous system

Hello, I’m Claudia, and Happy Quiet Life is where I share my view on the world as a Highly Sensitive Person. You’ll find reflections and stories about slowing down & living simpler, reconnecting with nature, mental health & self-care, books & reading adventures. Welcome!

Photo by Jonathan Bean on Unsplash

Being on the internet can be a great inspiration. (Especially here on Substack.)

It can be a way to connect. An option to find almost any piece of information you want. A wonderful opportunity to broaden your horizon, to see what’s going on elsewhere. It can be fun.

It can be all these wonderful things at once, and I love it for that.

But it comes with a major challenge, and as a highly sensitive person with a dysregulated nervous system, it can also feel like my downfall.

Snippets & social media

I love reading long-form texts. There’s profoundness, there’s time to get into it, to process what I read, to form my own opinion, to see what I can take away from it. There is a line of thought I as reader can follow over a period of time. One line of thought or at least one person that I follow on their train of thoughts.

I grew up without the internet and certainly without social media and smartphones. I was book-trained if you will, and this remained the form of media and info container my brain still works best with.

I’m an HSP and an introvert. I look for depth, I enjoy getting into topics. Not just scimming the surface. (That’s what I loved about being an academic and also about being a writer.)

It’s no suprise then that being on the internet so much, the constant scrolling, the inevitable tons of snippets are tricky for me and miles away from my calm and trusted way of obtaining information or perceiving the world.

Snippets and scrolling don’t do my highly sensitive being and my dysregulated nervous system any good. But, of course, because I’m human, I fall into that trap regardless. The internet, social media, recommendations and what not are designed to reel us in, to make us stay longer, right?

My brain can’t process so many info bits at a time, the relentless attack of attention-grabbing snippets, of sensations on all channels. My brain has no power to withstand the shere amount of info bits, impressions, sensations, not much of a barrier or filtering system. My brain gets fuzzy and exhausted quite quickly. Everything in my head seems to swirl, there’s brain fog, I get dizzy, and I wished I hadn’t done it again. The permanent wave of info bits of all kinds seem to expect constant reactions and choices and that in itself is stressful, exhausting and for me also anxiety-inducing.

I’ve stayed away from social media for years. Facebook was short-lived. I only used Instagram for work as part of my job, but then it crept in, even though I didn’t post anything myself, just doomscrolled in the evenings to unwind and to divert myself. I quit three years ago, when I quit my job. Very good decision. Both actually.

I also refrain from Notes on Substack, although I see the appeal to discover writers, like-minded people, to find beautiful pics and posts, to connect. I crave all this. It’s not that I’m not interested what you and others write and share there, I am very much. However, the Notes format is not for me. The social media aspect, the scrolling and snippets don’t do me any good. I came here because I’ve loved the long-form texts and I still do. I find that this allows you to get to know people better and more deeply than through these constant little snippets.

Change & taking control

There are times in life when health and self-care has to take centre stage. Actually, all the time, when I think about it.

In recent years, when I began to recover from burnout/nervous breakdown/deep exhaustion, I’ve become better at making conscious decisions about what and whom I allow into my life. To make room for much more quiet, slowness, nature, living in the moment. But the internet with all its offers stays a challenge for me.

I’ve felt it since February, but I only half-heartedly listened to it or tried to change something about it. Because it’s the lifeline to so many important and positive things like work, friends, inspiration, meeting like-minded people, broaden my horizon, publishing my texts, finding books …

I can’t just quit everything, nor do I want to.

But there comes a point when you have to face the truth and stop your distractions and excuses.

Fact is that my nervous system perceives the scrolling, the snippets, the permanent bits and pieces, myriads of links, recommendations etc. as threats and has a hard time calming down.

Of course, it’s not all about the internet. It has also much to do with the state of the world, my experiences in “real life” in the past years, also with being anxiety-prone with bouts of depressions. Being a highly sensitive person doesn’t help here either. (But those are all the more good reasons to be mindful and prioritize self-care.)

I can’t fix or change any of this as fast as my daily info bits and media consumption and my internet use. So it feels like a very good idea to start here. To take control in this aspect.

For about two weeks now, I’ve limited my internet time drastically and stopped my exposure to snippets and scrolling altogether. I also set myself a moratorium for putting items on reading/listening/borrowing wishlists, saving new links etc.

This also applies to all the links I’ve collected on various topics that interest me, the articles I want to read later, the screenshots from inspirations and ebooks and, above all, the many photos I take, which need to be edited and processed, sorted, categorised, named and filed away. Because I’m also drowning in hundreds of documents and photos that wait in a folder on my desktop labelled “To sort out”. (Sometimes I’m tempted to just delete the folder.)

Old habits die hard

Taking control on my internet time and stopping adding new items helped. Pretty fast.

On the one hand.

On the other, it was frightening to notice how my mind tried to trick me into finding detours, exceptions and excuses.

“I could just quickly look for new books in the library catalogue online. It’s books, it doesn’t count.” (Yes, it does, and doing it quickly is not the point.)

“Oh, but I need to know what the weather will be like when we are away for a few days.” (Sure, but not ten days in advance. What’s the point? The forecast will change anyway.)

“I’ve done so well today. As a reward, I could read a little on the internet.” (That’s a joke, right?)

I’ve had to say no to myself a lot lately. (Although it’s a big yes to self-care actually, so I might want to rephrase that. Right now, I sometimes feel like I’m training my brain like a disobedient dog. “No, nooo, NO!” On the other hand, it makes me laugh, so it’s okay for now and it works. I will think of some other approach later.)

I have to be on my toes every single second of the day right now.

Pause and reflect if what my minds suggests, insists of or tries to coax me into is actually a good idea and in my best interests. To challenge every thought and reaction can be exhausting, too.

I’ve noticed how difficult it is to shut down automatic responses, even though I know and feel that they are harmful. It’s quite frightening at times. But also eye-opening. How persistent conditionings can be, kind of an addictive behaviour too. How I’m used to do something that’s not good for me.

What helped and what good it does

Staying alert and persistent myself has helped, however.

I’ve felt moments of peace, of calm. Minutes, hours. Even an entire day.

Not starting my morning by going online, but instead lying in bed without turning on the light and listening to a nature audiobook is a lovely new way to start the day slowly and gently.

Drinking my first tea in bed with only a dim light on without doing anything else is also calming.

I’ve managed to not add anything to my wishlists or reading lists: no audiobooks on Spotify, no ebooks at the e-library, no new Youtube links or bookmarks to articles of all kinds. (And when I didn’t manage, I noticed it really soon and deleted them.)

I don’t even follow “If you liked this, you might also like” recommendations on books any more. (And that’s a tough one.) No need for entire lists that create pressure and distraction. (Lists and I don’t get along well.)

I still fight the urge to check this or that on the internet, or to do a quick search or follow a breadcrumb book trail. But I’m able to resist more often now. Most of the time, actually.

It’s hard work, but it works. In my favour.

My nervous system relaxes here and there. Relieved that it doesn’t have to cope with all these bits of information, snippets, all this noise. There is already enough, or even too much, input as it is.

Being on the right track

A few days ago, I waited for my husband to return from the shops and the library in the afternoon. Normally, I would have “used” the time to get some internet stuff done. But this time, I didn’t.

I made myself a mug of tea, cuddled up in my favourite armchair at the window overlooking the patio and part of the garden, saw the clouds racing and listened to my current nature audiobook while the sky gradually changed from light grey to dark grey and then to dark. The first lights in the neighbours’ windows lit up and then the street lamp went on. I just sat there in my spot, watching the November garden, the descending darkness, the rain and the warm dots of lights, a warm mug in my hand, drinking herbal tea and listening to stories of wild walks in Scotland in winter.

I was so at peace there, so balanced. I haven’t felt like this for quite some time. Especially not that late in the afternoons when my energy for the day (that starts at 4 am) has almost run out.

I was so happy I resisted the lure of the internet.

When I’m tempted – and I will be, I’m under no illusions – I hope I’ll remember this afternoon at dusk.

The question I ask myself now before giving in to a distraction or an internet session: “Is what I’m planning to do good for my nervous system? Is it really important to do? Do I need the info now? Will I benefit?” Most often it’s a no to all questions.

So why do it?

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