The Subtle Brain Damage of Constant Scrolling — And How I Burned Out My Own Brain Without Realizing It

Karen Allen
2 days ago
6 min read

I’ve spent years helping people strengthen their minds, rewrite internal stories, and get intentional about what they choose to think and do.

But here’s the truth I didn’t see coming:

I’ve been doing a lot of things wrong—not because I didn’t care, not because I wasn’t aware, but because I didn’t fully understand the long-term impact of one very normalized habit.

I didn’t realize how much damage I was doing to my brain until I finally slowed down enough to really look at some small patterns that became big habits.

This realization didn’t arrive all at once. Not overnight. Not dramatically. But slowly—like water eroding stone—until one day I realized I wasn’t the same person I used to be or the person I want to be.

It began quietly toward the end of last summer. At the time, I just knew that something felt off.

At first, I assumed stress was the culprit.

The last 18 months have been heavy for my little family. We’ve been navigating complexities around my son’s mental health while also managing the ripple effects of environmental and lifestyle changes. It seemed reasonable to assume that the stress he was experiencing—and the stress I was carrying—explained what I was noticing in myself.

But as time passed, the symptoms became harder to ignore.

I was becoming more forgetful than usual. I struggled to retain information, even things I had just read or heard. It felt like there was less mental space available to me, like my thoughts were competing for attention instead of flowing naturally.

Creatively, I felt stalled. Ideas would surface, but they wouldn’t fully form. I noticed my confidence slipping—not dramatically, but subtly. And perhaps most concerning of all, I felt like I was losing my light.

For a mindset coach whose job is clarity, all of this was unsettling.

So I started paying closer attention to my habits.

The Habit I Didn’t Question Enough

Toward the end of the summer, I noticed how much time I was spending on social media. Instead of watching TV, I would spend that downtime scrolling on various social platforms. I thought it was a reasonable swap from one form of entertainment to another.

But then I realized I wasn’t just scrolling when I had downtime, I was scrolling between tasks. Checking each platform in brief moments of boredom. Using it as background noise.

So I decided to take a short social media fast—and it felt incredible. I had more clarity, more presence. But once the fast ended, I slid right back into old patterns without questioning them.

What’s important to say here is that I didn’t consider myself a “doom scroller.” I use social media for reasons that feel valid. I share content to support and inspire my community. I love looking for new recipes to try. I’d gather ideas for home design and decor inspiration. I stay loosely informed about what’s happening in the world without having to watch the news for hours.

All of that felt reasonable.

What I didn’t realize is that intentions don’t override impact.

Even when we use social media for practical or positive reasons, the format itself—the constant novelty, the endless stream of information, the rapid shifts in attention—still affects the brain in very real ways.

I knew this intellectually. I even apply boundaries around my son’s social media use. He has limits. He isn’t on every platform. His access is structured and intentional.

And yet, I hadn’t applied those same standards to myself.

I justified my use. I told myself it was useful, productive, even necessary. But over time, it became clear that it didn’t matter why I was there. My brain was still absorbing far more stimulation than it was designed to handle.

What the Research Helped Me See Clearly

As I neared the end of the year, I spent time reflecting on who I was before 2020 — before the pandemic dramatically increased all of our screen time. I also began digging into the research, not to scare myself, but to ground what I was experiencing in facts.

What I found was validating and sobering.

Research shows that social media platforms activate the brain’s reward system through dopamine—the same neurotransmitter involved in motivation, pleasure, and habit formation. This is why the anticipation of rewards (notifications, validation, connection) feels so compelling. New content mirrors the same variable reward patterns seen in gambling, which is why it can feel so compelling to keep checking and scrolling.

It’s not just a habit—it’s biological.

Other studies show that frequent consumption of short-form, rapidly changing content weakens attention span and working memory. When the brain becomes accustomed to constant stimulation and novelty, it struggles to sustain focus, process information deeply, and consolidate memories.

This can feel like “brain fog,” difficulty concentrating, and a sense that your mental bandwidth is smaller than it used to be.

Sound familiar?

There’s also evidence linking heavy social media use to increased cognitive failures—things like forgetfulness, mental slips, and difficulty recalling everyday information. Over time, this kind of overload doesn’t just affect productivity; it affects how connected we feel to ourselves.

Emotionally, when your environment constantly highlights others’ curated lives, it naturally triggers comparison—even when we’re generally satisfied with our own. That quiet, background comparison can erode confidence, increase anxiety, and create a persistent sense that we should be doing more or doing things differently.

Reading this research didn’t make me feel broken. It helped me understand that what I was experiencing wasn’t a personal failure—it was a predictable outcome of overconsumption.

Why I’m Committing to a 100-Day Reset

By the time I reached the end of the year, it became clear to me that a short break wasn’t enough. If I wanted to truly reset my dopamine levels, rebuild my creativity, and restore the kind of mental clarity that had helped me develop resilience in the past, I needed a deeper interruption.

So I committed to a 100-day social media reset.

Not because social media is “bad,” but because my relationship with it needs to change.

Here are my reset rules:

Rule #1—No scrolling out of boredom. No default, no autopilot.
Rule #2—Social media only on Saturdays, up to 60 minutes. Use it intentionally—not reflexively.
Rule #3—I can post, but I must log off immediately after posting. No feed scrolling. No lingering.

Yes, this requires willpower. But doing things that are uncomfortable strengthens the part of the brain responsible for self-regulation, and that’s a muscle I want to keep developing.

What I’m Choosing Instead

This reset isn’t just about removing something. It’s about reclaiming parts of myself that quietly fell to the side.

I’m spending more time reading—both for learning and for pleasure. I’m drawing, coloring, and writing again. I’m working on my next book and recording visualizations for my growing Patreon community. I’m also recommitting to daily movement, meditation, and dancing—because joy and embodiment matter just as much as discipline.

Even after a short period of reduced social media use, I’ve noticed meaningful changes. My mind feels clearer. I feel more connected to myself. I’m less reactive and less comparative. My motivation feels intrinsic again, not fueled by what I see others doing.

If Any of This Resonates With You

If social media has ever made you feel like you should be doing more…like everyone else has it more together…like you’re falling behind…

It’s not just in your head.

It’s literally in your brain—shaped by years of conditioned attention, comparison, and reward-seeking.

If you’ve been feeling unfocused, uninspired, forgetful, irritable, or creatively blocked, it’s worth asking whether your brain is simply overwhelmed.

Our minds were not designed to process endless streams of information.

Overconsumption—of anything—eventually takes a toll. Moderation matters, even with tools that feel harmless or helpful.

Maybe you don’t need to do a 100-day reset. You might start with weekends only. Or one platform. Or a single screen-free block of time each day. This journey looks different for everyone.

But if you’re craving more clarity, more depth, and a stronger connection to yourself, I hope you’ll consider experimenting with your relationship to social media.

If you need help getting started, you know I’ve got you! Here’s a gentle 7 Day Reset.

I’ll also continue sharing reflections, tools, and practices through this newsletter, along with guided visualizations inside the Patreon community to support this rewiring process.

Before you go, I’ll leave you with a few questions to sit with: