Hello, I’m Jordanna and I’m an addict

Image one:

It’s 1997. I’m 27 and walking along the beach in Brighton where I am visiting a friend. The sun is setting and everything about my life is perfect. I reach into my bag and pull out a big rectangular brick and press big, raised buttons through a thick plastic cover and a voice picks up at the other end of the line.

I walk, talk, describe the sunset. I know that what is taking place is nothing short of a miracle. I am on a phone. I am not at home. I am not in a urine-drenched phone box. I am not attached to wires or plugs and yet here I am able to communicate directly to the person I most want to share the moment with.

For me, it was love at first call and you couldn’t even play snake on it back then. There has been no looking back. Do you remember the first call you ever made on a mobile phone? The wonder of that moment is still alive 26 years later.

Recently I went to the ‘Centre for Computing History’ in Cambridge (thoroughly recommend) where you can trace the evolution of the telephone from simple sounds beamed through a wire, to holding the world in your hand on a device that weighs less that 150g. (The Centre for Computing History also does the same for computer games and office equipment, and there’s even an original working Pac Man game. Total heaven.)

Image two:

I put a distracted hand inside a formless bag, rooting around for a bit to find my phone. When desired object and seeking hand aren’t immediately magnetised, I recruit my eyes to help.

Hand, vision, peering isn’t working. So, a more thorough swirling of objects starts. Bag begins to feel cavernous. More peering. The first feelings of discomfort arrive. Rooting gets faster, a little more frenzied. Thoughts & heartbeat pick up pace. Colour of thoughts darken. I let go of the breath I’ve been holding. It now becomes shallow, and my chest tightens.

I begin to take things out of the bag. Half the bag is now empty, my chest really tight. I stop taking things out and start chucking things out at speed. Less than two minutes (well I’m guessing because I don’t actually have my bloody phone -my clock, my story book, my photo album, my music, my money, my entire world, all is lost so what’s the point). No catastrophising there then...

Bag is shaken violently upside-down, emptying paperclips, pen lids, coins, canderel pills, inhalers, filthy facemasks and fruitellas. Once upon a time there would have been the odd broken cigarette or two.

I think I have a problem… yes, my name is Jordanna, and I’m an addict.

This problem has a name. Google tells me it’s called ‘Nomophobia’ which is a shortening for ‘No Mobile Phone Phobia’. I have been in denial about it for some time.

What is nomophobia?

Nomophobia can be described as intense anxiety when separated from or not being able to use your phone. An intense anxiety that affects your daily life.

Well…. by that definition, does this apply to any of you? Please let me know. If you aren’t sure, we can dig a bit deeper…

How do you know if you have Nomophobia? What are the signs?

You probably don’t need to take a test to know the answer to this - although a test does exist and should you want a 'validating' diagnosis, here’s a link:

https://www.news.iastate.edu/news/2015/08/26/nomophobia

Ask yourself these questions:

· Do you take the phone to the bathroom with you?

· When you leave a room, do you take your phone with you?

· If your phone is suddenly for some inexplicable reason not within sight, do you start to feel unsettled, irritable, or anxious?

· Do you sleep with your phone?

I think if you answer yes to any of these questions, you’re on the slippery slope at the very least.

Did I mention I’ve been in denial for a long time. I do not like to travel anywhere that I have no access to the internet and have recently bought a phone with 5G just in case anyone tries to make me.

The actual epiphany and realisation that I need to do something about it, is very recent.

It’s now a family joke amongst me and the three children that if we ever sit down to watch TV together (each of us on our individual device of choice) one of us will say when the film begins and the others are still looking at their screen ‘Am I the only one watching?’.

This question is one that my husband Donald asks me whenever we sit down together. There are a number of things that happen in my head when I am asked that question. Luckily, I did control the first five of those responses. The joke is really on me. The question incites irritation on a good day, and internal rage on a less good one. I interpret the question as a controlling attempt to prise me away from my phone which is doing no harm to anyone. Sat here typing with all my tech around me I am perfectly aware that the problem is completely with me.

This next anecdote is embarrassing for me. Recently, my son Hamish was playing in a concert at Snape Maltings with Suffolk Youth Wind Band. Some mothers would be so proud.

The concert was long. The concert felt long. My phone came out. I was listening and checking that nothing important was happening anywhere else in the world. My checking on the world was rudely interrupted by a very sharp tap on my shoulder. I looked behind and an elderly lady leaned towards me and shook her head. I didn’t need words to interpret her meaning. She REALLY looked down on me. I can’t tell you how badly it made me want to misbehave.

For the next 20 minutes I sat in silent fury. Who did she think she is? What was her bloody problem? How was it bothering her. How was it any of her business. All I wanted to do was check my phone, reply to messages, be distracted by something that wasn’t the worst chosen utterly dull classical music that no child in that very professional orchestra could possibly have enjoyed playing (but that’s a different rant). As well as the fury, I felt tortured and miserable. My phone was right there, in my hand and I wasn’t allowed to touch it.

To this day Hamish doesn’t know that I didn’t come back in after the interval.

There is so much more that it’s not possible to say right now, this blog is already long enough and most of you will have stopped reading back in paragraph two anyway. But what I do want to say is Nomophobia affects my mental health. Of course it does. It makes me anxious, irritable, bad tempered and unreasonable. And I am going to take action!!!!

May 15th – 21st is Mental Health Awareness week, and this year’s theme is ‘#ToHelpMyAnxiety’. So I have decided to do something for myself. I am going to work on my nomophobia and improve my mental health by reducing the anxiety caused by my current mobile phone dependence. I am going on a digital detox. I am already afraid but putting it out there helps with the accountability. But don’t worry, I’m not going cold turkey. There will be rules. I have thought this out.

The Rules:

1. Buy a clock with a timer for meditation. This will eliminate the excuse for picking up my phone first thing in the morning.

2. No phone in bed, no sleeping with it under my pillow. This means no audio books. Back to reading physical books with paper and words you can see. Either I’ll read more or sleep more.

3. My phone will be turned to airplane whenever I am working – no constant switching between tasks.

4. All social media notifications will be switched off.

5. Social media timetabled – which will include posting for work, and replying to posts.

If you feel I’ve missed anything, and you have other suggestions, send them to me for consideration.

Right: now that you’ve all read this blog on your mobile phones standing in the queue at Tesco’s, what are you going to do this mental health awareness week to ‘#ToHelpMyAnxiety’ ?

JOIN THE WAITLIST

and I'll let you know about all my new offers!