Breaking Free From the Doomscroll: How to Reclaim Your Mental Space

Hey friend! 👋
Last night, I picked up my phone to check the weather—just a quick glance, I told myself. Two hours later, I was still scrolling. I was reading news articles and debates raging over the recent Sydney Sweeney/American Eagle ad controversy. The avalanche of reactions only fueled my sense of anxiety. My head buzzed, my chest felt tight, and somehow I was both overstimulated and completely empty. Sound familiar?

That’s when I realized I had a serious doomscrolling problem. And based on conversations with friends, family, and honestly, most humans I know, I’m definitely not alone.

Scrolling felt like control—but it was quietly ruining my life.

Did you know? The average person checks their phone 352 times a day!! No wonder we feel scattered and anxious all the time.

What I Learned About This Modern Addiction 🧠

Here’s the thing about doomscrolling that took me way too long to figure out: It’s not really about staying informed. It’s about avoiding something else.

For me, I realized I was using the endless scroll. It was a way to avoid the uncomfortable feeling of being alone with my thoughts.
Bored? Scroll. Anxious? Scroll. Procrastinating on work? Definitely scroll.

The problem with doomscrolling is it amplifies negative emotions instead of easing them. It’s like scratching a mosquito bite—you think it’ll bring relief, but it only makes the itch worse and risks infection.

Four Strategies That Actually Break the Cycle

1. The “Phone Parking” Method
Instead of trying to use willpower (which fails), I started physically removing the temptation. I bought a charging station for my kitchen and “park” my phone there when I get home.
The key is making it inconvenient enough that you have to be intentional about picking it up. Those extra 10 steps give your brain time to ask: “Do I actually need this, or am I just bored?”

2. Replace the Habit, Don’t Delete It
Going cold turkey never worked for me. I identified what I was actually looking for when I reached for my phone. Usually, it was a mental break or stimulation. I found healthier alternatives.
Now, when I feel the urge to scroll, I have a list of 5-minute alternatives. I can make tea or empty the garbage cans in the washrooms. I might text a friend something specific (not just “hey”). Alternatively, I can step outside and take three deep breaths.

3. The “News Curfew” Rule
I stopped consuming news after 8 PM. Not because I don’t care about the world, but because late-night anxiety spirals don’t actually help anyone.
I get my news from two trusted sources, once in the morning, for a maximum of 15 minutes. That’s it. Everything else is just feeding the anxiety machine.

4. Create “Friction” for Social Apps
A hack my son taught me was to remove social media apps from my phone’s home screen. I turned off all notifications except for calls and texts. Now, if I want to check Instagram or X, I have to search for the app.
That tiny bit of friction has cut my usage by about half. Most of the time, by the time I find the app, I realize I don’t actually want to use it.

Your Challenge This Week 📱

Pick ONE of these strategies and commit to trying it for just three days. Not forever—just three days. I recommend starting with the phone parking method since it’s the easiest to implement and has the biggest immediate impact.

Pay attention to what happens when you reach for your phone and it’s not there.
What were you feeling? What were you trying to avoid or distract yourself from?

I’d love to hear what works for you. Hit reply and share your story—or your struggle. Sometimes our best solutions come from the comments section!

If you trip up, that’s okay. Every scroll is a chance to notice, pause, and choose again.

You’ve got this, Tim

P.S. Last nights spiral I mentioned? It started because I was avoiding writing a difficult email for work. The irony? I spent two hours consuming content about other people’s problems instead of spending 15 minutes solving my own. Sometimes the thing we’re avoiding is so much smaller than the mental energy we spend avoiding it.