Is Social Media Adding to Your Anxiety?
I did an experiment last week. I opened Facebook, set a timer, and told myself I'd only scroll for five minutes. Five minutes, folks. That's it. Forty-five minutes later, I looked up with a crick in my neck, a weird sense of dread, and no memory of what I'd even seen. I just knew I felt worse than when I started.
Anybody else? Because I don't think I'm the only one.
We joke about our phones being "addictive," and we laugh about wasting hours mindlessly scrolling as if it's a harmless quirk, the way some folks bite their nails or twirl their hair. But the more I've paid attention to how I feel after I close the apps, the more I've realized it's not so harmless after all. Social media has a sneaky way of stirring up anxiety and even depression, and it does so in several ways.
First, there's the numbers game. We post a picture, and then we watch. We refresh. We check again. How many likes? How many comments? Did anyone share it? Before we know it, our sense of worth is riding on a little heart-shaped button, and when the numbers don't add up the way we hoped, we feel rejected, overlooked, and not enough. Suddenly we're comparing our highlight reel to everyone else's, forgetting that nobody posts the pile of laundry on the floor or the argument they had five minutes before the "perfect family photo."
Then there's the front-row seat to every debate, rant, and hot take under the sun. Somebody's mad about politics. Somebody else considers herself an expert on parenting styles. Somebody's shouting about global warming, while somebody else instructs everyone about which way the toilet paper roll should hang. And there we sit, watching strangers rip each other apart in the comments, absorbing all that tension like a sponge, even when it has nothing to do with us. Our nervous systems weren't built to process that much conflict in one sitting. It's just...too...much!
And let's not forget the news. Oh, the news. Scroll for two minutes, and you'll learn about a natural disaster, an economic collapse, and three separate scandals, all before your coffee gets cold. Researchers actually have a name for this now: doomscrolling. Studies have linked it to increased anxiety, hopelessness, and even physical symptoms like tension headaches and trouble sleeping. Our bodies react to the news cycle the way they'd react to real, immediate danger, even though we have zero power to fix most of what we're scrolling through.
No wonder we're all exhausted!
Here's the good news, though (pun fully intended): we serve a God who never intended for us to carry all of that.
Philippians 4:6-7 tells us, "Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."
Notice it doesn't say "be careful for nothing except world events" or "except that argument in the comments." It says nothing. Every single thing we're tempted to absorb and carry, we're invited to hand over instead.
As Christians, we have an alternative to the anxiety machine, and it's not just "log off," though that helps too. It's remembering Whose approval actually matters. We don't need a certain number of likes to be valuable, because we were valuable before we ever posted a single picture. Colossians 3:2 tells us to "set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth." That doesn't mean we ignore the world. It means we stop letting the world set the temperature of our souls.
Practically, that might look like turning off notifications so a screen doesn't interrupt your peace on its own schedule. It might mean choosing one or two trustworthy news sources instead of letting an algorithm feed you outrage designed to keep you scrolling. It might mean muting the debates you can't fix and pouring that energy into praying for the very people you'd otherwise be arguing with online.
Most of all, it means remembering that our worth and security were never meant to come from a feed. They come from a Father who already knows the number of hairs on our heads and still calls us His own. That's worth more than any algorithm could ever offer.
So today, close the app for a minute. Breathe. And let the God of peace, not the god of the group chat, have the final word over your heart.
🔍Pulling Back the Curtain: A Peek at the Study Behind This Post
It all started with my own five-minute experiment turning into forty-five anxious minutes, which made me stop and ask: is this just me, or is something bigger going on here?
The spark: I noticed my own physical reaction after closing the app, a genuine sense of dread, and got curious whether that was documented or just "me being dramatic." Turns out, it's a well-documented phenomenon researchers actually call "doomscrolling."
The research rabbit trail: I looked into recent studies on social comparison, envy, and depression linked to social media use, and found the right language for what I was feeling, things like "upward comparison," "existential anxiety," and cortisol spikes from constant exposure to negative news.
The Scripture search: I went hunting for a verse about anxiety that wasn't the usual go-to, and landed on Philippians 4:6-7. What struck me was the phrase "be careful for nothing," a much stronger, more absolute statement than I remembered. I checked it against Colossians 3:2 to find language about where our affections should actually be set.
The connection moment: It clicked when I realized the antidote to comparison-driven anxiety isn't just "log off." It's remembering our worth was settled before we ever posted anything. That reframed the whole devotion from a tech complaint into a gospel truth.
The crystallization: Once I had the "numbers game," "front-row seat to debates," and "doomscrolling" as three distinct causes, the structure fell into place naturally, each cause paired with a piece of the spiritual alternative.
Time note: This one only took about thirty minutes start to finish, because most of the material was already working its way through my head and heart before I began.
Try this yourself? The next time something on your phone stirs up a strong feeling, whether it's dread, envy, or anger, pause and ask why. Then go looking for what Scripture actually says about it. You might be surprised how quickly a personal observation turns into a treasure worth sharing.