Trying to quit Instagram is quite like my failed attempt at trying a paleo diet, intrigued by all the science that said consuming grain was bad for my body. In a sense, Instagram is a lot like refined carbs.
It turns out I am not alone.
Once in a while, you will meet someone who has actually managed a complete social media purge. Like smug millennial monks, they describe their transcendental state and the number of books they have actually finished reading since entering a post-Instagram/post-Twitter world. These blissed-out souls say they are more ‘present’ now, can enjoy the sunset and have conquered all their base addictions.
Also read: Twitter testing ‘fleets’: exciting feature or late to the trend after Snapchat, Instagram?
No cure for me
But for me, all attempts to quit the platform have been futile.
I am an Instagram addict, and my iPhone’s screen-time metrics compound this awareness by informing me that my daily phone usage is over four to five hours — most of this time is spent on Instagram. Irrespective of where I am, and what I am doing, I perpetually carry the itch to unlock my phone and quickly glance over the app to see what’s new.
All my attempts at finding a ‘cure’ have been in vain. Delete the app? Went cold turkey for three months. Phase it out? Allowed myself to re-download the app for only three-four days a month. Monitor usage? Installed a feature that caps my daily browsing to 45 minutes — a limit that I usually hit by 10 am every day. Regardless of the hack, I always cheat my way back to that infinite scroll of images that make me want to buy more, party more, travel more, invariably always making me feel less.
Clearly, I am not alone. If you google ‘Instagram detox’ or ‘Instagram cleanse’, you are immediately hit with results that resemble attempts at excruciating diets — ‘What I Learned from an (Attempted) Instagram Detox’, ‘The 48-Hour Instagram Cleanse’, ‘Instagram Detox: I Gave It Up, and Learned So Much’.
Also read: Comedy to life hacks: 5 women YouTube stars Indians can’t get enough of
Social media rolled into one
But part of the challenge in giving up is how central Instagram has become to our lives, with the functions of Twitter, Facebook, Snapchat and Pinterest all rolled into one. It is no longer just a platform that allows you to stay abreast of your social circle, but enables access to new information, job listings, events in your city, new artists and designers, the nearest volunteering opportunity…it’s indeed the biggest boon and bane.
In addition to this, if you’re someone who works in marketing, PR or media, or anything remotely digital, boycotting the platform is simply not practical.
On a more personal level, unless you have Instagrammed something, have you really experienced it?
Two years ago, after weeks of poring over Airbnb listings, my friends and I took a trip to Himachal Pradesh. The house turned out to be even better than what was promised online — a stunning view, remote location, far removed from a town or any tourist spots. But my bubble of excitement burst the moment I looked down at my phone and realised I had four full bars of perfect signal.
Predictably, the next two days were spent aesthetically documenting the weekend on our respective Instagram accounts — the stylish house we were renting out, the perfect blue sky we napped under, the elaborate brunch we took three hours to prepare. Ironically, it was looking at images of other people holidaying that had triggered us to plan our getaway, and here we were 400 km away from home and glued to our phones.
I do realise that the reduction of anxiety and time saved being off the app is real, as I have experienced every time I go off Instagram. But until I find a way to time-travel back to an era where Internet and social media were not primary engines of our social, professional, cultural lives, I am stuck here navigating my love-hate relationship with Instagram.