Confessions Of A TikTok-aholic
Dopamine is my drug and the algorithm is my dealer. From fried attention spans to thinking in fluent brainrot, scroll on to find out if you, too, are addicted to TikTok.
I remember my first hit like it was yesterday. My sister passed me her phone. “Just try one,” she said. I watched a fifteen-second clip, maybe Charli D’Amelio doing the Renegade, maybe a lockdown study vlog. My brain fired up like a Christmas tree. I needed another. And another. Before she knew it, this ex-Muser (Musical.ly user) had relapsed. Five years later, I’m now chronically online with an average daily screentime of eight hours and a maximum battery capacity of 74%.
TikTok isn’t just an app. It’s a highly potent, unregulated substance, carefully engineered to hijack your dopamine receptors and leave you fiending for just one more scroll. The algorithm is your dealer, waiting in the shadows with a fresh supply of content tailored just #ForYou.
Think you’re in control? Think you can quit anytime? Here’s how to tell if you, too, are a full-time TikTok addict.
Symptom 1: Your Attention Span is… Nonexistent?
Back in my day, I could sit through an entire movie without checking my phone. I could read a book without a sped-up AI voice narrating every scene for me. But now? If my brain doesn’t get instant gratification in 0.5 seconds, my thumbs start twitching like junkies in withdrawal.
A TikTok doesn’t immediately grab me? Swipe!
A Netflix show doesn’t jump-cut every three seconds? BORING.
My professor explaining something that will definitely be in the midterm? Sorry, I can’t pay attention without Subway Surfers gameplay or random soap cutting videos taking up half the screen.
Symptom 2: Your Brain Defaults to TikTok Sounds
I should be able to process emotions like a normal person. Instead, my brain auto-generates a TikTok soundbite for every real-life experience.
Fail a quiz? It’s a TEMPORARY setback, it’s a momentary lapse, but conveniently my ego doesn’t bruiseee.
I walk past the most basic white man in Hiwa? BOOM SHAKA LAKA YES LAWD.
My TA lowers the grade singlehandedly keeping my GPA afloat? You’re just thinking it’s a small thing that happened, the world ended when it happened to me.
At this point, I don’t even think in words anymore—just never-ending sped-up indie songs and Gen Alpha references I am definitely too old for. This week, I caught up with an old friend and all we could say was “Six, seven,” between each other’s major life updates.
Symptom 3: Your Phone Battery Can’t Keep Up
I start every morning with a fully charged battery. But the moment I open TikTok? It’s over. “Just five minutes,” I tell myself. Then suddenly my iPhone 12 is burning the skin off my hands, my battery is at 2%, and I’ve lost three hours of my life watching AI-generated day-in-the-life videos of Roman soldiers in Pompeii.
The scariest part? I DON’T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT I WATCH. Just a haze of Preminger impressions, Role Model edits, Utah Mormons opening their mission calls, and 74-part Abbott Elementary episodes that have a total of three pixels. An hour into my brainrot binge, I’ve already scrolled for so long under a search that I don’t even remember what the blue comment said.
Sobriety Is Impossible
They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. Fine. I AM AN ADDICT. But does rehab even work?
I try watching a movie like a normal person. But every time a character dares to dramatically pause for more than five seconds, I instinctively reach for my phone.
So I try reading a book. But the moment I open one, my brain panics. Where’s the flashy multi-font text? Can I hold my thumb down on the side of the page to speed it up? Where can I find the CapCut filter to create my own ranking of this love triangle? My eyes dart ahead, desperate for something, ANYTHING, to keep me hooked. I physically cannot do it.
My last resort? Touching grass. I step outside. The sun is shining, the air is crisp, and I am… bored. No #Nassie or whatever the new influencer ship is, no American commenters beefing about something that is common sense to the rest of the world, no “For You” page curating the world around me. I find myself scrolling through life, waiting for something to happen. Nothing ever does.
Some say a full detox is the only way out. Delete the app, they tell me. FREE YOURSELF. And for a moment, I uninstall TikTok. Take a deep breath. My brain is quiet. And then? I open Instagram Reels. The cycle continues.
Maybe one day, TikTok will get banned and we’ll all be forced to go cold turkey. But until then? We will keep scrolling, feeding our addictions, waiting for our next fix.
Because, fellow addict, let’s be honest. None of us actually want to quit, do we?
