The black hole as time on the phone expands and shrinks. (Photo created in 2012)

I have a confession to make. I’m addicted, digitally addicted. It’s all because of stories. I love stories; storytelling, myths, legends, action stories, biographical stories, romantic stories.

My addiction was assuaged for thirty years when I was a librarian and had access to all the stories I wanted. Now I’m wanting more. Give me more stories. Do I reach for a book? No. It’s that gremlin in my pocket who is beguiling me, whispering to me. “Come out to play” it chimes in a noisy beep. All too easily I give in to my addiction.

My phone has me in thrall. I never thought it would happen to me, yet I can see that it has. Ten years ago I took photos of people holding their mobile phones. One girl was uploading pictures onto a platform called Instagram. I didn’t know what that was at the time. Now its permanently in my head….

I turn my phone on in the morning to read the news and emails, then check social media. Before I know it I’m in the grip of Reels. It’s like visiting the lands at the top of the Magic Faraway Tree, you never know which one is there until you arrive and are turned topsy turvy or walking backwards or being surrounded by grumpy people.

It’s a black hole where time expands and shrinks. You think you have been holding your phone half an hour enjoying the sensation of immersion with people and places, then an hour goes by and you have been seduced by one minute stories about nothing much in particular.

The problem is they appear to be interesting at the time. Lots of colour, movement and action. Snippets from movies I have already seen but then think I must view again or movies I have never seen and probably never will.

Returning to ‘dry land’ again I feel sated yet unsatisfied. True addiction. It’s spoiling my concentration span, sucking up my time and spitting me out the other end older but not wiser. I feel like going to an a RA (Reels Anonymous) session to meet with fellow addicts.

I blame it on hours spent on my bed recovering from my knee operation. Then I blame it on the midday heat of summer when it’s too hot to go outside. However blame gets me nowhere.

How am I addressing my problem? I know I won’t go cold turkey. It’s a gradual weaning off process. Reading books helps as does writing. Watching full length movies then turning off my phone for the night is one solution. More beach walks, more art projects another.

The question is: have my brain cells been permanently affected by this short attention span condition? What was that question again?