I suppose this ‘thing’ exists because of me, Adam – a walking, talking cliché of modern anxiety. I’m a middle-aged husband and father to a toddler, and somewhere in my forties (the lower end, I should add!) I decided a sensible, unambitious, suburban life was far too easy. So, naturally, I relocated (twice), became a mature student, got married while studying, dropped out of said studying, changed careers from export documentation to developer, and then had a child. Oh, and I’ve been lugging around a heaving, hulking dose of esteem issues for way, way, way longer than all this upheaval and change.

This neural tangle in my brain is a Health and Safety nightmare!

I’m a self-diagnosed tech burnout victim. I scorch my retinas with the daily grind of a screen, and then, in a beautiful act of self-flagellation (heh heh heh), I willingly submit them to the whirling vortex of late night doomscrolling. I’m like a moth to a flame, and the flame, in this case, is a flickering smartphone that promises… well, nothing really. Just the same old misery, perhaps delivered a little faster.

I’ve proven many times over that I’m capable of change. I can embrace seismic challenges, pivot my life, and build a new one from scratch. So why can’t I just be happy? Why can’t I allow myself to be healthy?

That’s the conundrum, isn’t it? The stubborn, unshakeable habits that cling to you like some kind of shitty glitter. So, I’m trying to unpick the knots in my busy brain. I know that beneath all the sinewy matter of 21st-century life is a genuinely happy, peaceful, and imaginative chap. Me. I’m not this miserable sod who believes the world conspires against him – that would make me egotistical, which I guess I am… but I’m working on it.

The irony isn’t lost on me

Technology has been my saviour in so many ways. It gave me a new career, connected me to a world outside my postcode, and allows me to write, to record music, to create. It’s how I met my soulmate, my wife, the mother of my son – a future I’d long since written off.

The idea that I’m even likeable still baffles me, and being responsible for a child is terrifying. But for now, I’ll just white-knuckle all that responsibility at the expense of my mental health. Rinse and repeat, ad infinitum.

I’m part of the last generation that will remember a time before the internet. And in many ways, I miss it. I’m nostalgic for it. Things were simpler then – maybe harder, but definitely simpler. It’s a paradox, I know, but it’s true.

What the hell did I do when I had a spare five minutes in the nineties?

I’d probably stare at the trees, or if I was indoors – the wall – or I’d listen to something on my Walkman, or just… be. Now, I fill my spare five minutes gawping at fart videos, incompetent world leaders, sponsored ads for a product I showed a mild (at best) interest in, war, famine, clickbait, fake news, the cost-of-living crisis, cats, and – worst of all – Coldplay / James Corden / Katie Price / Jimmy Carr (delete as appropriate).

I want a hybrid life. I need a pause button. I need to stop, take a breath, and take the best bits of now — the connectivity, the opportunity — and mix them with a dash of the old school: the joy of waiting, the freedom from tracking every single minute of your life, the simple pleasure of creating things with your own brain and two hands.

As you can see, my brain is a carousel that’s flown off its hinges and split into too many pieces to handle. The soundtrack in my head is often an accurate depiction of this, which is why I’ve not yet grown fond of meditation. Just the thought of observing my thoughts gives me palpitations.

I’m a work in progress, and I’m going to share my journey to find inner peace through digital wellness, old-school get-outdoors-i-ness, and a bit of wisdom from the past-and-present-i-ness.

It is time for me to pause, take back some control, and breathe.

If any of this sounds vaguely familiar, you’re in the right place. Sign up below to get the next instalment of Ctrl Alt Breathe straight to your inbox.

Every two weeks I’ll be sending out my newsletter in the following format:

• A personal reflection on my efforts to deal with tech burnout, digital wellness, and self-improvement, among other things.
  
• A deeper, topical reflection that offers research-led insights into how technology (or absence of) can improve our lives.
  
• A minimally curated list of articles, apps, and anything else that could help us in our wellness goals.

If you’d rather not, I won’t be offended (as I am advocating for LESS not more) but, you can get smaller, sparser updates from/by me on the usual socials too.

Let’s unpick these knots together.