The Internet Is Killing My Brain

Before either one of us says anything, yes, I do realize the IRONY of complaining about the internet, on the, um….Internet. On a blogging site, no less. But this is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. The general insanity of the world and how we’re expected to exist within it.

For awhile now I’ve been aware that my attention span has become supremely gimpy…anytime I try to focus on something, it’s wandering down the hall, wearing a helmet, banging into walls, and muttering to itself like a crazy person. Or a chode with a Bluetooth. I can’t focus on any one thing for longer than, say, 15 minutes at a time. Even when I’m home supposedly relaxing by watching a movie, I can’t watch the damn movie! I can only watch Netflix’ed TV shows while simultaneously running my laptop, texting people, downloading music, making dinner, playing with the cats, talking to the boyfriend, and doing my nails or something. I used to think I liked multi-tasking. Now I think I’m incapable of functioning any other way.

When I’m at work, it’s no better. When I’m not in the virtual world playing cyber babysitter for agoraphobics and the mentally ill, I am simultaneously: checking emails, IMing coworkers and friends, looking at a minimum of 5 tabbed windows on Firefox, and 5 tabbed windows on IE (the only way I separate work stuff from frivolity), listening to iTunes, watching YouTube and running to meetings (oh noes, human interaction!). My job also requires me to blog daily, and run work-related pages on MySpace, Facebook, and Flickr. The lines between virtual reality and insanity, work and lifestyle, are so blurred, it’s a wonder I’m not permanently lost in the Matrix. OR AM I? Who are you people? Is anyone actually reading this?!?!

Point is, I’ve been living this way for a long, long time now. And I believe it’s changed my brain. This all was called out to me in sharp relief when I recently ran into a guy I used to work with at my First Big Internet Job. He’s a brilliant writer, musician, artist, published author, etc. And one of the funniest fucking people I’ve met in my entire life. He was talking about what a weird bubble San Francisco is, particularly in regards to doing absolutely everything online, and that you forget that the rest of the world isn’t really like that. Since he left our job, he’s done writing workshops all over the world, worked for Microsoft in India, started bands, written books. At his most recent writer’s retreat, he stayed in a beautiful old mansion in gorgeous countryside. He said there was one room in the house, the ugliest room with dirty, cracked linoleum, which happened to be the only place you could get wireless. He said every writer spent all day crammed in there, sitting in circles with laptops, supposedly working.

So much for meditation, revelations, and inner journeys.

I would like to write a book someday. This is something I’ve known since high school. But until I fix my brain, I don’t see it happening. I’ve proven I can heal my body from mono, change my diet, and take on hardcore, disciplined exercise programs. If I can’t wean myself off technology, I am well and truly screwed. Tech-diet, here I come. Who’s with me?