All hung up

Smartphones and social media apps dominate our attention, sometimes to a damaging and unhealthy extent. But is it really an addiction? By Simar Bajaj

ANANYA JAIN NEVER PLANNED ON BECOMING ADDICTED TO TIKTOK. Jain, who is 24 years old, downloaded the app at the peak of the Covid pandemic. She had heard about TikTok's data privacy issues, so she promised herself that she wouldn't post or comment on anything - just watch a few videos and call it a day. That lasted less than a month.

"It just pulled me in because I was so lonely," Jain said.

"I was looking for friends." And TikTok delivered. A huge Harry Potter fan, Jain was roped into the BookTalk community. She was struggling with acne, but dancing dermatologists told her about over-the-counter skincare products. Later, #polo and #horsesoftiktok became enthralling since she could live vicariously through the players from underneath her covers. Whenever Jain felt the loneliness creep in, the platform gave her a quick dopamine hit.

Innocuous 15-second videos would lead to two hours of scrolling. Soon, Jain would watch TikToks during work breaks to de-stress, or in her bedroom as she was trying to go to sleep. The app became the source of all her social and entertainment needs. Yet she also felt lonelier than ever.

"I was addicted to my phone, I had the worst mental health possible that you can imagine," Jain said. Her online friends were anonymous strangers, after all, not the kind of people you'd ask to pick you up from the airport or call up in the middle of the night. It was a vicious cycle: TikTok fed her loneliness but was also what she used to try to alleviate it.

Jain is the founder of mental health startup FullCircle.