The terror of feeling invisible
“How can stay off my phone? No matter what I do, I can’t seem to stop scrolling.” This is something I hear just about every week, including from those seeking treatment for anxiety.
My reply is usually the same: Before we can get the scrolling figured out, we need to find out what it is you’re seeking when you scroll. Do you need stimulation? Company? A new pair of sneakers?
Phones have changed the way we live our lives. A lot of it is convenient—a video chat with a friend or relative who’s far away can be a gift. But phones are keeping us from engaging in a valuable act that builds a sense of who we are: Hanging out with ourselves.
Being there
Awhile back I spent time in an East Coast city I hadn’t been to before. Walking around looking at people and old houses was a delight. Staring at the ocean, riding the ferry, and being in the fog felt exotic.
I was one tourist among hundreds. But so many around me were tapping on their phones, talking into their phones, taking selfies, posting to social media. They wanted others who weren’t right in front to them to see them in this nice place. They wanted—needed—to be witnessed.
The need to be seen
Why weren’t more of them gawking at the sights? Why do people spend so much time on their phones when they’re in an unfamiliar place? Was I seeing the 21st-century version of the clichéd traveler who can’t stop snapping pictures long enough to take in what’s right in front of them?
When telling friends about my trip East, it dawned on me. I was witness to a terror of not being witnessed. Posting on social media is a way of telling others and yourself that you exist. It’s a way of making sure that others see you and are paying attention. It’s a reaction to the anguish that results in not being seen. Sound familiar? Then it might be time to consider treatment for anxiety.
Attention is priceless
If you’ve ever been mesmerized by an infant, you know how good babies are at capturing our gaze. That wired-in talent at drawing us to them is how infants help themselves survive.
Good-enough emotional support—adequate attention and attunement—happens when a caregiver knows when to be there, when to back off, and when to split the difference. Each of us needs different amounts of this, and different types of it at various stages in development. Some of us received it. Some of us didn’t. If you didn’t, anxiety therapy can help you work through the feelings that may be coming up.
If we didn’t get the right sort of care as kids, we feel the lack somewhere along the line. Is the need to document our lives in the public space making up for some kind of childhood lack? Or is it feeding on itself: Compensating for the ever-decreasing capacity most of us have to be in the present, gather with others in person, and pay heed to each other and ourselves—with phones zipped away in our backpacks?
Not enough attention feels bad
Being invisible can feel awful. (Back to babies: When they need attention, they let you know in no uncertain terms). You need to be heard and seen, even if the idea of public speaking puts you in a cold sweat, even if you’d rather listen than speak, even if feel allergic to being the center of attention. We are pack animals. We aren’t wired to be alone for endless stretches of time. All of us need to be witnessed, acknowledged, and listened to.
Yet we don’t seem to know how to witness ourselves.
You needn’t meditate every day, go on a silent retreat, or hike in the wilderness alone (although those things can be nice). Learning to hang out with yourself simply means being present, whether it’s feeling the breeze on your face, listening to a friend, or getting lost in knitting a scarf or reading a spy novel.
If being in the present is posing challenges, call or text me at 213-807-6021. Let’s talk about how treatment for anxiety can help.
(Photo: Laker/pexels)