I
n October 2019, I deleted my
Instagram for a month. There was no
dark downfall into obsession or an
utter collapse of self-worth that prompted
this decision, but I had been experiencing a
plateau in my mental well-being at the time
and had recognized social media wasn’t
helping the problem.
I loved Instagram from the moment I
first downloaded it. I used to rely on it like
a crutch, sharing content almost every day
— posting pictures of myself smiling at a
football game in the fall when I was lying
in bed mid-winter, sad about a breakup or
a falling out with a friend — and putting
great pressure on getting likes. Now, I use
it as a digital journal, a consistent stream of
consciousness and look into my life: posting
pictures of candid life moments, unfiltered
and unplanned.
Last fall, in a time when my peers were
continuously posting ceremonious photos
and announcements of accomplishments
and future plans, I was drowning in self-
doubt and anxiety. My feed was constantly
filled with the smiling faces of those who
had their futures planned — drinking out of
red cups at football tailgates, standing close
with a significant other, happily accepting
a return job offer and a signing bonus.
I was genuinely overjoyed for the
achievements of the people I followed,
but
I
couldn’t
stop
comparing
my
own life to the images that filled their grid
on my screen. Though I was aware that one
day I’d be sharing similar achievements
on my own profile, the time when their
accomplishments were thrust in my face
felt overwhelming and never-ending. I
wanted everyone to be doing well, and I
wanted the same for myself.
Social media wasn’t the cause of the
emotions I was experiencing, but my
generalized anxiety, which I’ve struggled
with my entire life, was greatly exacerbated
by my glowing Instagram feed. I remember
making the decision to post a story of a piece
of greasy pizza that had no connection to my
declaration of a social media detox with the
caption “logging off for a month!” in a fat,
pink font. The fact that I felt the need to share
my decision to stop using Instagram with my
followers is ironic. Maybe it’s for that reason
I redownloaded the app three days later,
modifying my hiatus to allow limited time for
scrolling and no posting for a month.
After this Instagram cleanse, much like
cutting carbs or sugar from a diet, I felt
fresh and renewed. I didn’t need Instagram
and even found that I now had time for
more productive pastimes, like reading
every night before bed.
The deep attachment was apparent,
though. Even after my Instagram detox, I
essentially reverted back to my old habits,
slipping into my posting routine like an old
sweater. But the experiment had rendered
me more mindful: I started to notice a
correlation between my Instagram usage
and the way I was feeling. Some days,
Instagram was my therapist — others, the
perpetrator of my anxiety.
It isn’t a novel concept to suggest
that social media causes mental health
problems, or exacerbates them. But in
struggling with these issues myself and
growing up in a world that’s plugged in
24/7, I hope to discover and illuminate the
more nuanced, personalized aspect of the
connection.
U
nlike
other
generations,
Generation Z has never known
a time without the ease of cell
phones, the internet and social media to stay
connected, instantly gratified and plugged-
in. As the first generation to grow up with
the flow of information and the immediate
knowledge of anyone’s and everyone’s
personal life, Gen Z has always known
the temptation to compare their own lives
to curated highlight reels of everyone on
Instagram, Facebook, Snapchat, Twitter
and LinkedIn.
Growing up with the presence of social
media, the world becomes a vacuum as
the details that people chose to share
swirl together to create a hyperreality.
Comparing someone else’s phony world of
vacation photos, job offers, homeownership
and new relationships to one’s real life
is bound to leave an individual feeling
insecure, unaccomplished and pressured to
aspire to a level of perfection. Millennials
have been constantly faced with an
impossible, unspoken task: Look like you
have it all together, exude happiness and
appear as though everything is perfect,
even if it isn’t.
To maintain the masquerade is to
convince everyone around you that you’re
just as happy, if not happier, than they are.
I can recall having a day-long panic attack
— from the moment I woke up, to my desk
at work, through the evening on the day
following my 21st birthday — and still
posting a filtered photo of myself smiling
in a sparkly pink dress.
It comes as no shock that there
is recorded data which suggests that social
media has an impact on the mental health
of Gen Z. Anxiety has been linked to many
different factors in college-aged students,
like loneliness, stress and uncertainty as
collateral of a transitional period, to name
a few. Generally speaking, the rise in mental
health issues among young adults is a trend
which cannot be linked to one specific cause
or tangible thing — it’s subjective. However,
the trend of well-being in American young
adults decreasing and the time spent on
electronic
devices
increasing
suggests
there does exist a correlation between
social media usage and the severity of
mental health issues, namely anxiety and
depression. Though correlation exists, one
must recognize that researchers have failed
to find casual data linking mental health
problems and social media, thus obfuscating
the question further.
On the other hand, one study did find
causal evidence of an increase in well-being
due to reduced use of social media. The study,
done at the University of Pennsylvania in
2018, sought to test the positive correlation
between mental health and social media. The
group practicing limited social media use
saw a decrease in depression and loneliness,
suggesting that limiting social media use can
improve well-being.
In my personal experience utilizing
social media, there have been both highs
and lows. There are days when I feel as
though my mood is improved by viewing
the lives of my peers, family members and
celebrities — watching people I admire
succeed or be entertained by interesting
content. Conversely, there are days when I
face a struggle with my presence on social
media applications—comparing myself to
images of others and monitoring my own
social profiles can be taxing.
But even with so many pitfalls, there
are tremendous amounts of research
and opinion on the basis of social media
influencing
mental
health
positively.
A study done at the Harvard T.H. Chan
School of Public Health found that when
used mindfully, social media has been
found to positively improve preexisting
mental health issues. Research Scientist
Mesfin Awoke Bekalu found that strong
social networks are associated with
positive mental health as the networks
act as gateways for connection to others.
He concludes that it is the way in which
individuals use social media that is an
important distinction when analyzing its
effects on mental well-being.
The question, then, is twofold: Does
social media create or exacerbate mental
health problems? Does it help? If it is a
damaging force on Gen Z, how do we stop
a train that seems to be running full steam
ahead?
I
n an effort to better understand
how college-aged individuals feel in
regard to the intersection of mental
health and social media, I decided to reach
out to some of my peers. Throughout my
investigation, only a few male-identifying
individuals were interested in being
interviewed, which may be indicative that
these issues affect them less intensely
or linked to the fact that men are less likely
to speak openly about mental health issues.
However, there were numerous college-
aged women who expressed they’ve
experienced both negative and positive
effects on their mental health from social
media usage while in college.
“If I think about when my mental
health issues began, it’s around the same
time we started really using Instagram
and Snapchat,” said Sophia Maita, a
senior at Fordham University studying
communications and culture.
Maita, who experienced the onset of
mental health issues around age 12, claims
social media has had both a negative and a
positive influence on her emotional well-
being. “I’ve tried to set up my social media
to be positive … I follow a lot of inspirational
accounts,” she said.
The posts that often make people jealous
or insecure can sometimes play in as a
positive: “It makes me happy to see people
on Instagram and Facebook doing well and
being successful,” she said.
But it’s a careful balancing act.
“Just seeing people out partying with
someone who I’m not friends with or don’t
get along with can be difficult.”
The fear of missing out, often referred
to as FOMO, can be defined as anxiety
caused when you find out about an event
that you are not attending or weren’t
invited to. Usually, people are exposed to
such information via social media posts. It
is the feeling that everyone is having more
fun than you, or experiencing something
novel or exciting, and that you’re missing
it. It can have negative effects on both
happiness and self-esteem and has been
found to provoke great distress.
That being said, FOMO can turn into
something more sinister than a feeling of
unease at a Snapchat story of your friends
at a bar without you.
“When I see on spring break or in the
summer people looking so hot in bikini
photos, and that was what I was struggling
with my freshman and sophomore year of
college ... feeling envy or shame really took
a toll on my eating habits and how I felt
about my body.” Maita said.
Social media — especially Instagram
— has been found to be damaging in
regards to eating disorders: While it does
not necessarily cause them, it normalizes
disordered eating behaviors and fosters
body
dysmorphia.
Most
recently,
TikTok has been filled with pro-eating
disorder content. Many teenage girls
have normalized posting videos of their
“FDOE”, or full day of eating, in which they
list the calories of their every meal — most
often between 600-800 a day. The app has
been known to glorify skipping meals and
to promote weight loss supplements, thigh
gaps and the constant weighing of oneself.
TikTok has even been dubbed “Pro-Ana,”
a term to describe the promotion of eating
disorders like anorexia.
Instagram has also been criticized
for emphasizing a pro-eating disorder
narrative,
like
through
accounts
that
promote
diet
culture.
These
accounts
advertise
over-exercise,
compulsive dieting and calorie counting,
which can be extremely destructive
to someone already engaging in eating
disorder habits or tendencies. There are
also “fitspiration” and “health” Instagram
accounts that promote healthy habits like
exercise, nourishing oneself and evading
diet culture.
“With any platform that has pages and
accounts that aren’t tied to a singular
person — like fitness or foodie accounts —
we have the option to view diet and fitness
accounts all day if we want, which can be
dangerous to people with pre-existing
mental health problems,” said LSA senior
Hallie Fox.
“I definitely think it’s a double-sided
coin. You can see weight loss accounts
saying ‘this is what people should look
like’ but there are also accounts that
are for recovery and struggles and body
positivity,” Fox said.
Instagram has a huge community of
eating disorder recovery accounts, run by
women predominantly, who share their
struggles with recovering from an eating
disorder and use the platform as a food
journal to hold themselves accountable.
While this creates a sense of community and
solidarity for eating disorder sufferers and
survivors, doctors urge that such accounts
cannot replace professional treatment.
Many social media are dedicated to
creating a sense of unity
and
a space for those who feel alone in their
struggle. Millennials and members of Gen
Z have been both criticized and lauded for
general openness about struggles with
mental health and the de-stigmatization
of therapy and dialogue around emotional
well-being.
SMTD sophomore Harper Klotz found their
community online, on the website Tumblr.
“After being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder
and PTSD I didn’t know anyone around me
experiencing these things, so I looked for
resources and people online that I could relate
to. Tumblr made me realize I wasn’t alone in
what I was experiencing,” they said.
Online platforms are seldom regulated,
which is part of why they work so well in
connecting people and allowing them to be
vulnerable. But there is a dark side to this
openness.
“Tumblr and Twitter can be really toxic,
especially Tumblr … there was a lot of
glorification of suicide and eating disorders
… there’s mixed messages because anyone
can post anything,” Klotz added.
W
ith millennials and members
of Gen Z connected to our
mobile devices at all times,
perhaps it’s in our best interest to seek
out profiles and accounts that make us
feel good, as opposed to relentlessly
comparing our lives to others, which can
lead to destructive consequences. It’s
almost impossible to know — in a place
as vast and open ended as the internet,
where anyone can post anything — what
provokes distress and what introduces
positive emotions. Many people don’t want
to waste time on social media, but feel
trapped. If we decide to stop utilizing
social media altogether, we forgo a major
means of interaction, communication and
socialization between peers, friends and
family members. Without social media,
one could lose the ability to network,
keep in touch with connections and even
get hired for jobs. There’s almost no way
to unplug — and even unplugging could
bring on other negative feelings, like
FOMO.
Social media can be a haven of support
and love, spreading affection in the form
of a thumbs up and digital hearts, but it
can also be a destructive path of pressure
and comparison. The future is unclear
for teenagers and young adults, with
TikTok popular among young people and
even LinkedIn causing exacerbations in
stress and anxiety. Perhaps the balance
— and solution — is for us to figure out on
an individual basis. On the other hand,
perhaps it is a societal-level issue worth
concern and attention.
D
uring my Instagram hiatus, I
noticed I took fewer photographs
than I normally would have. It
seemed to suggest that I only feel inclined
to take pictures with the prospect of posting
them, not necessarily just to have them to
look back on as a memory. On vacation over
fall break, I didn’t post once — not a picture
of an aesthetically pleasing palm tree, a
Caribbean sunset, a fruity cocktail or my
silhouette fake-looking out at the ocean in
a purple bikini — which is surprising given
my inclination to shareable social media
platforms like Instagram.
I couldn’t decide if I was worse or better off
without fulfilling the itch to feel fleetingly
satisfied promoting happy, jubilant photos.
I didn’t give in to a phony desire to share
my life with the world, and eventually even
forgot about posting altogether. I was no
longer caught up in what everyone else was
doing and how they looked over fall break. I
had come down from the drug, and I was at
a strange homeostasis.
Social media is inevitable. It exists and
we live among it. We can choose to embrace
it for its wonderful qualities or hate it for
its negative ones — or we can recognize
that it can be imperfect and wonderful
simultaneously.
I’ve often thought about taking time
off from social media again. Now, though,
I feel more inclined to use platforms
like Instagram and Twitter — which
have benefited me by way of news,
comedy, connection and entertainment
— productively, rather than as a filter of
my life. I have accepted the ebb and flow
of social media platforms on my mental
health, and recognized the negative
exacerbation Instagram can have when I
am coping with anxiety and stress. I am
the only one who can bar social media from
making me feel worse.
For those of us who have lived in the
yo-yo effect of deleting, redownloading
and feeling incredibly aware of and
attached to our profiles, I urge you to find
ways to limit your use. Observe your own
social media practices and focus on how
they make you feel. Unplug for a few days.
Practice Instagram and Snapchat use in
moderation. Only in fostering a healthy
balance for oneself can emotional well-
being truly improve.
Wednesday, March 18, 2020 // The Statement
4B
5B
Wednesday, March 18, 2020 // The Statement
BY ELI RALLO, STATEMENT COLUMNIST
ILLUSTRATION BY MICHELLE FAN
Instagram was my therapy … until it wasn’t