“scrolling through the storm”

"Scrolling Through the Storm"

There was a time when I couldn't tell the difference between inspiration and illusion.

I'd open Instagram or TikTok just to escape—telling myself I was looking for creative ideas, for connection. But deep down, I was just avoiding the chaos in my mind. My anxiety, my emptiness, the guilt of not doing enough, not being enough.

It’s wild how easy it is to disappear into a screen.

One minute you're posting a filtered sunset with some deep quote, and the next, you're lying in bed wondering why your life doesn’t look like the reels you just watched for two hours. I’ve gotten thousands of views on videos that were made while I was mentally crashing. People praised my creativity, my smile, my “aesthetic.” No one knew I hadn’t eaten that day. No one saw the panic attack right before I hit upload.

That’s the thing about social media—it hides just as much as it reveals.

It made me feel both seen and invisible at the same time.

There were days it saved me.
I’d find a video where someone said, “If you’re reading this, you’re gonna be okay,” and even if they didn’t know me, it helped. I’d post something honest—really honest—and someone would message me saying, “Thank you. I needed this.”

That kept me going.

But there were other days… where I’d scroll through someone’s perfect life and wonder why mine hurt so much. I’d fall into that spiral of, “Why can’t I be like them?”
Or “What’s wrong with me?”

It took time to realize: there’s nothing wrong with me.
There’s just something wrong with pretending we’re all okay when we’re not.

What I’ve Learned:

Social media isn't therapy.
It can't hold you like a real friend.
It won’t walk you through trauma or sit with you in silence when the world feels too loud.

But it can be a tool—if you use it with intention.

• I started muting accounts that made me feel less than.

• I unfollowed people I was secretly comparing myself to.

• I followed more creators who were real, vulnerable, and raw.

• I set limits, logged off when I needed space, and stopped posting just to prove something.

And slowly, social media became a mirror, not a mask.

Now, I use it to tell the truth.
To share the highs and the lows.
To connect—not perform.
To help someone who might be where I once was… lying in bed, phone in hand, heart heavy, scrolling through the storm.