The Therapist, the Doom Scroll, and the Clock Radio

Ironically, I’m just messaging a client a sleep hygiene plan. And I’m his ACC therapist and secret bedroom scroller. I’m a complete hypocrite.

Initially, Analogue April caused a bit of conflict in our house. Firstly, my partner has never been a huge fan of technology. He has always been more analogue by nature, while I’ve probably sat somewhere in the middle, aware of the issue but still deeply entangled in it myself. (Which is hard to admit.)

Hello my name is Kirsty and I’m in a serious relationship with doom scrolling! It started innocently enough:

“Right, it’s Analogue April we’re having no phones in the bedroom.”

Then:

“No phones after 9pm.”

Which somehow evolved into a slightly rebellious household negotiation about who was following the rules, who wasn’t, and whether any of us really understood how attached we’d become to these little glowing devices.

What surprised me most wasn’t the inconvenience. It was the discomfort. (It’s almost as hard as not having a ciggy after a few rums in your 20s.)

As a therapist, I sit every week with teenagers whose nervous systems are exhausted. I can honestly say that over the last two to three years, a significant amount of the anxiety, dysregulation, sleep disturbance, identity confusion, emotional overwhelm, inability to complete school and engage in sporting activities and, of course, reduced ability to sustain attention that I’m seeing appears deeply intertwined with online consumption, particularly TikTok and short-form content.

Last week, a parent brought me a young person who was really struggling. When I got around to asking her what her screen time was, she quietly answered: “14 hours a day.” Fourteen. I asked her gently what she felt she had genuinely learned over the last thousand hours online. What had stayed with her? What was her biggest takeaway? She paused. “Just… what people say.” I asked what specifically. She couldn’t answer.

That moment stayed with me. Not because I think technology is evil, but because I realised how much modern consumption is happening without digestion, reflection, embodiment, or meaning. Endless information entering the nervous system with nowhere to land.

And if I’m honest, I’m not completely outside of this either. Who is these days? Between clients, I’ll sometimes grab my phone for a “quick scroll” to regulate myself. A quiz. A video. A dopamine hit disguised as a break. Then suddenly an hour has passed.

That’s the part I think we need to speak about more honestly: many of us are no longer using technology intentionally, we are using it to self-regulate. To avoid boredom. To avoid stillness. To avoid ourselves. It’s a huge distraction.

One highly functioning client joked that her evening routine consisted of doom scrolling and smoking weed. At first glance, it sounded almost humorous. Modern. Relatable, even. But underneath it was a nervous system desperately trying to down-regulate. Add unresolved childhood trauma into the mix, disrupted sleep, constant stimulation, and the brain eventually starts to protest. What looks like relaxation can slowly become chronic dysregulation disguised as coping.

Taking the Analogue April pledge wasn’t some grand moral statement for me. It was more of an experiment. A quiet reckoning. A growing awareness of how much space technology had quietly occupied in our home, our attention, our relationships, and our nervous systems.

It’s now May, and we are just coming to terms with what we are consuming and are still trying.

A small analogue protest against a world that never stops talking...

Today my partner came home proudly holding a Philips clock radio he’d bought for nearly $80 because he was so determined to get phones out of the bedroom for good. That tiny clock radio somehow felt absurd and hopeful at the same time. A small analogue protest against a world that never stops talking. And for us to take ‘active rest’ seriously.