Why I Stopped Doomscrolling and What Happened Next

For three years, my morning routine was the same: alarm goes off, reach for phone, scroll Twitter. Outrage about politics. Disaster news. Arguments in the comments. By 7 AM, I’d be angry, anxious, and convinced the world was ending.

I told myself I was staying informed. Being a good citizen. Keeping up with current events.

Really, I was feeding an addiction to feeling terrible.

Last January, I tried an experiment: one month with no doomscrolling. No news binges. No outrage feeds. I’d stay informed through one daily newsletter and one weekly news podcast. That’s it.

I thought I’d feel uninformed and disconnected. Instead, I felt awake for the first time in years.

What Doomscrolling Actually Does

Here’s what I didn’t realize while doing it: doomscrolling creates the illusion of action while ensuring inaction.

You feel like you’re doing something—staying aware, being concerned, caring about issues. But what are you actually doing? Consuming suffering. Marinating in helplessness. Getting angrier and more exhausted.

“Outrage is designed to keep you engaged, not empowered. Every algorithm knows: rage clicks.”

The news cycle, social media feeds, even progressive spaces—they all benefit from your continuous consumption of crisis. Not because they want you paralyzed (well, some do), but because engagement metrics reward negativity.

The science backs this up:

• Negative news increases anxiety and depression
• Doomscrolling correlates with learned helplessness
• Constant crisis exposure creates compassion fatigue
• Digital outrage reduces real-world action

We think we’re being informed. We’re actually being incapacitated.

The First Week Was Rough

Day one, I woke up and instinctively reached for my phone. Muscle memory. I caught myself and put it down. Then picked it up again. Then put it down.

My brain was looking for its morning cortisol hit.

Instead, I made coffee. Looked out the window. Noticed the light. Felt… bored? Empty? Anxious that I was missing something important?

The withdrawal symptoms were real:

• FOMO about what was happening
• Phantom phone reaching
• Anxiety about being uninformed
• Weird restlessness, like I should be doing something
• Guilt that I was “checking out” while others suffered

That guilt was the hardest part. Wasn’t I supposed to bear witness? Wasn’t looking away a privilege?

But here’s what I eventually realized: witnessing from my phone wasn’t helping anyone. It was just making me too exhausted to help anyone.

“You can’t pour from an empty cup, but doom-scrolling drills holes in the bottom.”

What Filled the Space

When you remove hours of daily outrage consumption, you suddenly have… time. And energy. And attention.

Week one: I read an actual book. Finished it in three days. Couldn’t remember the last time I’d done that.

Week two: Started cooking breakfast instead of grabbing whatever. Spent the scrolling time chopping vegetables. My body felt better.

Week three: Had an actual conversation with my partner at breakfast. Not just logistics—actual connection. We’d been eating in the same room while scrolling different feeds for years.

Week four: Joined a local mutual aid group. Spent two hours packing food boxes. Did more tangible good than three years of retweeting ever accomplished.

The time I’d been spending consuming other people’s suffering, I redirected toward alleviating actual suffering in my actual community.

What I Learned About Being Informed

I was terrified I’d become ignorant. That I’d miss something crucial. That I wouldn’t be able to participate in conversations about current events.

None of that happened.

My daily newsletter (5 minutes of reading) gave me the actual news—what happened, why it matters, what might happen next. No hot takes. No rage bait. Just information.

My weekly podcast (30 minutes while doing dishes) gave me deeper analysis of significant stories. Context. Nuance. The stuff you never get from headlines.

Total time invested in news: 1 hour per week. Previous time spent doomscrolling: 2+ hours per day.

And here’s the thing: I was better informed. Because I was getting signal instead of noise. Analysis instead of hot takes. Context instead of outrage.

“Being informed doesn’t require constant consumption. It requires discernment.”

The Conversations Changed

I thought I’d have nothing to contribute when people discussed current events. The opposite happened.

Before: I had surface-level takes from headlines and tweets. I could argue, but not analyze. I knew what happened today, but not why or what it meant.

After: I had fewer opinions, but deeper understanding. I could ask better questions. Contribute actual insight instead of just reacting.

When someone brought up a news story, instead of immediately having a hot take, I’d ask: “What do you think this means?” or “What can we actually do about this?”

Turns out, most people are also exhausted from performing outrage. They want real conversation, not competitive wokeness.

What Actually Changed

The biggest shift wasn’t about news consumption. It was about my relationship to helplessness.

When I was doomscrolling:

• Everything felt urgent and terrible
• I felt powerless to change anything
• My activism was performative (sharing posts, signing petitions, feeling angry)
• I was exhausted all the time
• I believed I was helping by “staying aware”

After I stopped:

• I could distinguish between urgent and important
• I focused on what I could actually affect
• My activism became tangible (showing up, organizing, helping)
• I had energy for real action
• I understood that awareness without action is just voyeurism

“Hope isn’t denial of reality. It’s the energy to change reality. And you can’t have energy when you’re emotionally hemorrhaging into your phone.”

The Resistance Paradox

Here’s the uncomfortable truth I discovered: my doomscrolling served the status quo.

I thought I was being radical by staying angry about injustice. Really, I was too exhausted from consuming injustice to fight it.

The system doesn’t need you to be ignorant. It needs you to be overwhelmed. Scrolling through suffering makes you feel like you’re doing something while ensuring you do nothing.

Real resistance requires:

• Clarity (which requires protecting your attention)
• Energy (which requires protecting your nervous system)
• Community (which requires actual presence)
• Strategy (which requires space to think)
• Sustained action (which requires not burning out)

None of those are possible when you’re mainlining crisis all day.

What I Do Instead

I’m not “checked out.” I’m strategically engaged.

Daily:

• Read one curated newsletter (The Morning by NYT or similar)
• Check local news for my city
• That’s it for news consumption

Weekly:

• Listen to one analysis podcast (not news recap, actual analysis)
• Attend one community meeting or action
• Have one real conversation about what matters

Monthly:

• Donate to organizations doing real work
• Evaluate what I’m actually contributing vs. consuming
• Adjust as needed

Never:

• Scroll news feeds
• Read comment sections
• Engage in online arguments
• Share outrage bait (even if I agree with it)
• Consume suffering as entertainment

How to Try This Yourself

You don’t have to quit everything. Start small.

Week one: Contain it

• Set specific times for news (morning and evening, 15 minutes each)
• Use apps like Freedom or Screen Time to block news sites outside those times
• Delete news apps from your phone
• No news before coffee or after dinner

Week two: Curate it

• Choose one trustworthy newsletter
• Find one weekly analysis podcast
• Unfollow anyone who posts primarily outrage
• Stop clicking headlines designed to make you angry

Week three: Replace it

• When you feel the urge to scroll, do something physical (stretch, walk, drink water)
• Read books instead of articles
• Have conversations instead of reading comment sections
• Join something local instead of watching from afar

Week four: Evaluate

• Are you less informed? (Probably not)
• Do you have more energy? (Probably yes)
• Are you taking more real action? (Check honestly)
• Do you feel better? (This is actually the point)

The Pushback You’ll Get

“But we need to stay informed!” Yes. You don’t need to be traumatized to be informed.

“This is privilege. Some people can’t look away.” Burning yourself out helps no one. Sustainable activism requires sustainable practices.

“What about solidarity with people who are suffering?” Consuming their suffering from your couch isn’t solidarity. Showing up in real ways is.

“Don’t you care about what’s happening?” I care enough to preserve my capacity to actually help.

Six Months Later

I’m more engaged in my community than I’ve ever been. I volunteer weekly. I show up to city council meetings. I know my neighbors. I’m part of mutual aid networks.

I’m also happier. Clearer. More hopeful. Not because I’m ignorant—because I’m not drowning.

The world is still broken. Injustice is still real. Suffering still exists.

But I stopped using other people’s suffering as emotional content to scroll through. I stopped performing awareness while doing nothing.

Now I do less consuming and more contributing. I’m less informed about every crisis and more useful in the ones I can actually affect.

“The revolution doesn’t need you traumatized and exhausted. It needs you clear-eyed and energized. You can’t be both if you’re doomscrolling.”

This week, try one day without doomscrolling. Replace that time with one action that actually helps someone. See which feels better.

The crisis will still be there tomorrow. But you might have the energy to actually do something about it.