From Doomscrolling to Thinking Clearly Again

Get Free Access – Start Reading
If you’re reading this, you’re early. I’m just getting started, and I want you to be part of this journey.
Start Reading Now and get my Life Reset Planner + Weekly Emails for figuring out what you really want and making it happen.
April 25, 2025 | FJ ANGELES
The Infinite Scroll is Eating You Alive
I didn’t even notice it was 5:19 AM.
I laid down in bed at 2 AM. I told myself, just a few videos. Maybe something useful, something that hits. Instead, I got hit by everything—every vibe, every emotion, every random thought shoved into my head by people I don’t even know. And now, my mind is on fire.
My brain is buzzing, overstimulated, tired—but somehow still restless. That’s the paradox of this hell loop: it exhausts you, but it doesn’t let you sleep. It feeds you fragments of energy, little pieces of inspiration, fear, laughter, outrage, meaning, nonsense—until your soul feels like it’s breaking into fragments too.
This isn’t just distraction anymore.
It’s destruction.
I came across a video—something about the art of focus by Dan. What he said was all true. On point. Meaningful. I could even feel it trying to reach me. But even that couldn’t cut through the noise completely. Because by the time it ended, I was already scrolling again, already feeling something else. Some random content with a totally different tone. And just like that, the emotion was gone.
Swiped away.
One second I’m hearing life-changing advice. Next second I’m laughing at a meme. Then it’s something sad. Then it’s someone flexing. Then I’m confused again. Then I’m annoyed. Then I’m empty.
It’s not just a timeline anymore—it’s a blender.
And I’m in it.
The truth is… this sh*t is killing me. Not just wasting my time—it’s shaping me. It’s shifting my mood without permission. It’s overriding my thoughts. And I’m letting it happen.
I wrote down a goal for myself, not long ago: Avoid this kind of distraction. Protect my focus. Use my time better. I had clarity once. But somehow, I fell back in. That’s the scariest part—you don’t even notice you’re drowning until it’s 5:19 in the morning and you’re still scrolling.
And now I’m frustrated. Not just at the content. Not just at the algorithm. But at myself. Because I knew better. And even the “good” videos didn’t save me. They just added another layer to the chaos. That’s the trap—they feel productive. They feel like you’re learning something. But you’re not sitting with it. You’re not applying it. You’re just... moving on to the next hit.
Different content. Different vibe. Different emotion. Over and over and over.
This isn’t entertainment. This is emotional whiplash.
And I know, tomorrow, I might look at all of this differently. I might think more clearly. I might reset. But tonight, I needed to feel this. I needed to let it get loud enough in my head for me to write this down. Because if I don’t capture this moment, it’ll fade—and I’ll fall again.
I have this saying I wrote once:
“When your mind is idle, fill it with good information and keep it running.”
But this—this isn’t good information. It’s noise disguised as knowledge. It’s entertainment pretending to be insight. And it’s killing my ability to focus. Slowly. Silently.
Now I know for sure:
Social media is dangerous.
Not because it’s evil. But because it’s random. Because it’s everywhere. Because it knows me better than I know myself when I’m tired and unfocused. Because it doesn’t stop unless I stop it.
And if you want to change… you need to be awake. Not just “woke.” Not just aware of the world. You need to be aware of yourself. Of your triggers. Of your weakness. Of how easy it is to lose hours chasing nothing.
I wasn’t aware of what I was doing.
Now I am.
And now that I feel it—really feel it—I don’t want to go back.
This is what it feels like to realize your mind is not your own anymore.
And maybe that’s the beginning of taking it back.
You Know What’s Happening — That’s the Awakening
There’s a shift that happens when you catch yourself in the act.
One second you’re lost in the feed.
Next second, you're watching yourself scroll.
That’s what happened to me.
In the middle of all the noise, I became aware. Not in some deep, spiritual, enlightened way. Just in a real, raw, uncomfortable way. A flash of consciousness. I saw what I was doing. I felt it. And I didn’t like it.
That moment is the crack in the system.
I realized: I am distracting myself.
Not because I want to be distracted.
But because I didn’t notice I was doing it.
Now I’m aware of it. Now I know what it feels like.
And that changes everything.
There’s a massive difference between knowing something and experiencing it. You can hear someone talk about dopamine addiction, content overload, overstimulation… you can even agree with them. But until you feel your brain actually breaking—until you lay in bed at 5 in the morning with your emotions scattered across 50 videos—it doesn’t hit the same.
Now it hits.
Now it’s in my body. My chest. My stomach. My jaw.
That frustration. That overstimulation. That ugh, I need to stop but I can’t feeling.
That’s not theory. That’s reality. That’s the trap closing in.
But there’s power in catching yourself.
It means your awareness is coming online. It means you’ve stepped outside the loop—even just for a moment. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it. You can lie to yourself again, sure. You can fall back in. But part of you knows. And that part starts to fight back.
You become a little more conscious of your hand reaching for your phone.
You start noticing when your mind wants noise instead of silence.
You hear your inner voice trying to drown in distractions.
That’s the beginning of freedom.
This is the awakening nobody talks about—not the flashy, spiritual one. But the everyday, gritty, ugly one. The one where you look at your habits and feel disgusted. The one where you admit that even “inspirational” content becomes noise if you’re not grounded.
Awareness isn’t pretty.
It’s uncomfortable.
It means you have to face what you’ve been avoiding.
It means realizing you were asleep while thinking you were awake.
But that pain? That discomfort?
That’s the door.
That’s where change begins.
I could easily pretend I’m fine. Just move on. Shake it off. Go back to my feed and convince myself I’m still in control.
But I’m not interested in lying to myself anymore.
If I want to be free, I have to stay awake.
Even when it hurts.
And if you're reading this, and you feel it too—you’re already waking up.
Now the question is:
What are you going to do with that awareness?
The Algorithm Is Not Your Friend
Let’s stop pretending this thing is neutral.
The algorithm is not your friend.
It doesn’t care about your peace.
It doesn’t care about your goals.
It doesn’t care about your mental health.
It cares about one thing: keeping you locked in.
It studies you—better than you study yourself. It knows your patterns. Your pauses. What makes you stop. What makes you click. It doesn’t just show you what you like—it shapes what you like. It doesn’t just reflect your thoughts—it reprograms them.
And we keep feeding it.
Every scroll is feedback. Every click is training it to train you.
What does that make us?
Honestly, most days, it feels like I’m not even using social media—it’s using me.
It gives me random highs and unpredictable lows.
It feeds me just enough meaning to feel productive.
Just enough humor to feel relaxed.
Just enough drama to feel something.
Just enough truth to make me feel like I’m “learning.”
And then it scrambles everything.
That’s the damage: it doesn’t just distract—it dissolves your focus.
It keeps you jumping from one emotion to the next so fast that your brain forgets how to sit still. You try to read something slow and meaningful—and your mind wants the next hit instead.
The algorithm is powerful because it doesn’t feel like manipulation.
It feels like you.
Your taste. Your feed. Your choice.
But it’s not. It’s a curated illusion, trained to keep you sedated and scrolling.
Even the good stuff becomes part of the trap.
Motivation videos. Deep quotes. Insightful monologues. I’ve watched them all. I’ve felt them. But when they’re sandwiched between meme edits, flex culture, reaction content, and 5-second jokes—it all melts together.
Your brain doesn’t know what to hold on to.
So it holds on to nothing.
This isn’t about deleting everything and disappearing into a forest. This is about waking up to the fact that we’re not fighting for time anymore—we’re fighting for attention. And attention is the root of everything.
You can’t focus without it.
You can’t think clearly without it.
You can’t build anything meaningful without it.
And the algorithm knows that. So it fights to keep you from ever being fully present.
But here’s the twist:
The algorithm isn’t evil.
It’s just math.
It’s just doing what it’s told.
The question is—who’s telling it what to do?
It’s trained on our behavior. Our fears. Our desires. Our distractions. It gives us what we ask for… even if we don’t realize we’re asking for it.
So if you want to change what you see—you have to change what you do.
If you want to escape its grip—you have to stop feeding it the version of you that’s lost.
Because if you don’t, it’ll keep building a cage around you… with walls that look like entertainment.
And one day you’ll wake up, look around, and realize:
You never left the scroll.
You just got comfortable in the prison.
Reclaiming Your Mind in a World That Profits From Your Distraction
Nobody is coming to save your attention.
Not the app developers.
Not the platforms.
Not even the creators whose content “inspires” you while still keeping you locked into the scroll.
You have to save it yourself.
Because here’s the truth: your attention is your most valuable resource.
More than time.
More than money.
Because without attention, you can’t even use your time.
Without attention, you can’t build anything. Learn anything. Become anything.
And yet we give it away… for free.
We give it to noise. To randomness. To digital roulette. We give it to platforms that literally profit from keeping us unconscious. They don’t want you focused. They don’t want you mindful. They want you passive, reactive, and hooked.
So if you want to reclaim your mind—you have to fight for it.
Not with anger. Not with rebellion.
But with discipline.
With self-respect.
With a refusal to let your mind be hijacked without your permission.
Here’s how I started:
1. I Noticed the Feeling First.
Not the habit. The feeling. That burned-out, overstimulated, overstretched, ungrounded state. The kind of mental fatigue that doesn’t come from doing too much—it comes from consuming too much noise with no direction.
2. I Created Friction.
No, I didn’t delete everything. But I started making it harder to open. Removed shortcuts. Logged out. Moved apps to hidden folders. One extra step is enough to wake you up for just a second—and sometimes that second is all you need.
3. I Filled the Void With Intention.
When your mind is idle, don’t leave it open. Fill it with good input. Read. Write. Reflect. Move. Breathe. Talk. Think. Let the silence stretch long enough for your own thoughts to come through—not recycled clips and half-truths from strangers.
4. I Respected My Attention Like a Sacred Resource.
Because it is. Once I saw what it was really worth, I couldn’t let it be pulled in fifty directions by an algorithm that doesn’t know my purpose, my vision, or my soul.
And when I slipped (because I did), I didn’t punish myself.
I just noticed it faster. I got back quicker.
That’s progress.
You don’t reclaim your mind in one giant moment.
You reclaim it minute by minute.
Decision by decision.
Scroll by scroll.
You build focus like a muscle.
And in a world trying to keep you weak, your attention is strength.
So train it.
Don’t let it be farmed by systems that don’t care if you ever become who you were meant to be.
Because here’s the final truth:
If you don’t control your focus—
Someone else will.
And they’ll sell it back to you… in the form of empty content and broken dreams.
Becoming the Creator of Your Own Signal
If the world is filled with noise—then become the signal.
You’ve already felt it: the algorithm fragments you, the scroll scatters you, the endless feed turns your mind into mush. But here’s what most people never realize…
You don’t just escape the noise by avoiding it.
You escape it by replacing it—with something meaningful, something deliberate, something yours.
That’s the next level.
Because once you get clear on the damage distraction does—once you feel the emotional hangover of hours lost to mindless scrolling—you can either stay stuck in guilt…
or you can build something from it.
Turn that pain into a compass.
Ask:
What message do I need to hear right now?
What clarity am I craving that I can create for myself?
What kind of signal would I want to send out if I wasn’t so tangled in everyone else’s noise?
That’s where your power begins.
Because the internet isn’t just a trap—it’s a tool.
And when you use it with intention, it stops being a prison… and starts becoming your platform.
Here’s what becoming the signal looks like:
1. You Create Before You Consume.
Before the scroll. Before the feed. You write. You reflect. You speak. You make something real. Even if it’s just a sentence. Even if it’s just a messy thought. You plant a flag in the ground before the world throws its chaos at you.
2. You Let Boredom Breathe.
This is key. Don’t run from silence. Let it stretch. Let your mind detox. Let your own thoughts crawl out of the noise. That’s where the real insight shows up—not from the next dopamine rush, but from the stillness you used to avoid.
3. You Share From Your Experience, Not Just Ideas.
This entire journey? You felt it. You lived it. That matters. That gives your words weight. You’re not another person repeating “digital detox” tips—you’re someone who’s been in the trenches. That authenticity is your signal.
4. You Build a System That Reflects the Life You Want.
You start curating your inputs. Not cutting everything out—but carefully selecting what deserves your time. You treat your attention like a spotlight—and only aim it at what serves your growth.
And most importantly…
5. You Lead By Example.
You live the message. You embody it. You write about it. You share it. You build from it. Not because you’re perfect—but because you’re awake. And that alone makes you a light in the fog for others who are still drowning in the scroll.
This isn’t about becoming some productivity robot.
It’s about becoming real again.
Fully present. Fully human. Fully here.
Because once you remember what your mind feels like when it’s yours…
You’ll never want to give it away again.
You are not just a consumer of content.
You are a creator of signal.
And if you protect your attention…
If you focus it like a laser…
You can shape your world—one word, one post, one decision at a time.
The world doesn't need more noise.
It needs you—clear, intentional, and free.
-fj angeles