I hope this opinion piece finds you all well. I’m not going to sugarcoat it. It finds me trapped, gnawing at the metaphysical bars of my beautiful boyish enclosure of a bedroom. 

I believe it was Joni Mitchell who sang the words, “You don’t know what you got till it’s gone.” Never have the lyrics of a song rung as true to me as they do now.

For many this past week, our TikTok doomscrolling was unfairly interrupted by the unneeded opinions of a geriatric government that seems keenly opposed to any form of fun and whimsy in their constituents’ lives. But this was short-lived, as less than 24 hours later the app went back online, and the doomscrolling continued. 

But not for me. 

I am one of the foolish few who decided it was a great idea to delete the app off my phone as soon as the ban took effect. “Why would I keep this downloaded,” I dimly thought to myself. “I need those five gigabytes of data back for my Letterboxd.” 

Now, I am stuck without the No. 1 waste of my time on my phone, as it is still banned from the app store.

What do you do when seven years of uninterrupted scrolling is suddenly pulled out from under your feet? At least once an hour for the last six days, I have found myself tapping the spot where the TikTok app was on my home screen, just for YouTube to open in its place. 

I feel like a child in time out, gazing at my siblings playing Just Dance on the Wii from the top of the stairs.

Am I crazy?

I feel like I am going through withdrawal.

So what now? That is the million-dollar question. What do I spend the two hours that were previously reserved for mindless scrolling doing? One professor recommended I read a book. BORING. Someone told me to knit. NO. My friends said to use Instagram reels. DO I LOOK 12? No. 

Something big needs to change in my life.

Perhaps this is our collective wake-up call. One could argue that my eight-hour average screen time was more than just a bad habit. Could this be for my own good? 

Samantha Close, an associate professor of Communication Studies at DePaul, said the ban could act as a reset for all of us.

“I think it’s a good moment to kind of take a look at life and think, ‘What are my goals?’” Close said. “We are really familiar with the idea of New Year’s resolutions, right? This is another way to make a fresh start.”

Some students have found workarounds to continue accessing the app. Senior Nina Gentles lost access to the app on Jan. 19 but has continued to scroll through the browser version of TikTok. She said it doesn’t hit the same way the app did, so she has mainly moved to other apps.

“It does feel like I’m missing out,” Gentles said. “TikTok was such a way for me to connect with friends and family members. … I’m missing a lot from different communities, … especially fandoms and creators that I like. They’ll post on other websites, but it’s not the same as the interactions on TikTok.”

My week of rest and relaxation has changed my outlook on life. There are whispers that the app may soon return to the app store. But this whole situation has left a sour taste in my mouth.

I am at the point where I’m not certain I even want the app back. I truly believe that this past week has fundamentally altered my brain chemistry. Our corporate overlords have handed me the key to the sensory dungeon. 

I think I have finally escaped into the blinding light of my own free will.

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• TikTok on the chopping block: Bipartisan potential ban on the social media app is unprecedented

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