What began as a helpful distraction has become your go-to way of coping. Instead of sitting with feelings of sadness or emptiness, you automatically reach for your phone or turn on Netflix. The temporary relief feels necessary, but afterwards, the difficult feelings are still there—often made worse by the guilt of another day lost to endless scrolling. As one client put it: "I use screens to numb myself from whatever I don't want to face."

Life has become a series of mechanical actions without much meaning. You're doing what's expected—work, social obligations, basic self-care—but feeling disconnected from it all. The things that used to matter somehow don't anymore, especially compared to the immediate pull of digital content. You wonder when you stopped feeling genuinely engaged in your own life, and whether you'll ever feel that sense of purpose again.

Remember when a beautiful sunset could captivate you or a simple conversation could bring genuine joy? Now these moments feel flat compared to the constant stimulation of your devices. Screen overuse has gradually raised the threshold for what stimulates your brain's pleasure response, making everyday experiences feel increasingly dull. Activities that once brought fulfillment seem to require too much effort for too little reward. You find yourself needing more intense experiences just to feel anything, while the simpler joys of life have lost their ability to touch you.

Getting out of bed feels like climbing a mountain, let alone tackling your to-do list. You want to call friends back, work on that project, or even just tidy up, but it all seems impossibly hard. Your phone or TV is right there, asking nothing of you—the path of least resistance. But after hours of mindless watching or scrolling, you somehow feel even more drained than before. It's a frustrating cycle: you're too exhausted to do anything but look at screens, yet screen time leaves you feeling emptier.