Scroll Away the Pain

I’ve been thinking a lot about addiction lately, the way it comes in many shapes and sizes. Alcohol, drugs, food, porn, shopping. Mild addiction, crippling addiction, and everything in between. We all have our vices, which are often harmless and fun. The problem starts when these vices begin to control us.
 
A member of my community passed away last week, her young body ravaged by alcohol and no longer able to perform the necessary functions. In the end, her addiction took the reins and ran her life into the ground.
 
The past week has been a tough one. My father’s health has been deteriorating after almost three months of hospitalization. I spend a few hours with him each day but my mind is constantly crowded with thoughts about him, his situation, the past, possibilities for the future. From the time I wake up in the morning until I go to sleep, I’m turning over all these thoughts in my mind. My father seeps into my dreamworld, my anxieties playing out in technicolor.
 
I’m finding ways to cope. I’ve been making an effort to take a walk every morning and jump into the pool afterwards to wash off the Florida heat. Doing something physical gives me some respite, a moment to take a break from the mind chatter and connect with the moment, the here and now. I’ve been bringing “The Power of Now” to my father’s bedside and reading sections out loud. I remind myself to meditate and when things get overwhelming, I call a friend.
 
But I’ve also been turning to my vices. If I smoked cigarettes, I’d be going through a pack a day. Luckily, my vices are relatively innocuous. Yesterday, I had a massive bowl of ice cream—two, actually. I watched a few comedy specials on television. Nothing too crazy. I’ve resisted the urge to buy a case of wine. I need to be clear-headed to deal with whatever comes my way.
 
My stress has been manifesting itself in another way. I’ve noticed that my fingers are constantly reaching for my device, as if it were a lifesaver. In a way, it is. Until yesterday, I was in Miami by myself and my phone has been my connection to my friends and family: my lifeline. Also, my phone is my portal to my father’s doctors and nurses, another lifeline that I’m clinging to right now. But still, uncertainty is a scary feeling, and it’s one that can be easily numbed with mindless scrolling.
 
Next time I reach for my phone, I’m going to ask myself: what feeling am I trying to avoid? Although it hurts to lean into fear, sorrow, and anger, we can never get to the other side if we don’t go through it. Using vices such as scrolling or shopping or whatever else stunts our emotional growth, and this emotional intelligence is what makes us human.

Who are we if we don’t honor that essential part of our humanity?