Writer's Block Magazine

Recently, I had an internal consultation — meaning, I had an existential evaluation of life and how I want to live it. The problem that set this internal debate in motion was the activity of binge-watching. I’ve realized that binge-watching becomes a lifestyle at a certain point. A life led by a constant search for stimulation and dopamine rushes, all to avoid being alone with my thoughts. I’m scared of being alone in my mind — I’m scared of boredom.

It’s gotten to the point where I am barely able to finish a novel because it feels too slow-paced, which is quite unfortunate, considering I am a literature major.  If I were to have a choice between reading and watching a TV show, the latter seems more attractive, as it is less ‘work’. After arriving home from a day at work, I tell myself, I deserve to rest; I’ve done enough. And how better to relax than lying down in bed, putting on Netflix, and letting episodes engulf you in a cinematic world? There’s no need to even click on the next episode — it starts automatically. It is more work to turn it off as opposed to simply leaving it running. Just this one episode… okay, one more and then I will sleep. Okay, well, I’m already sleeping late anyway… so, I might as well sleep in tomorrow and watch one more now. The next day, I find myself cooking while watching another episode; I find myself doing laundry while watching an episode; I find myself putting off the work I had planned, because once the laundry is done there are still 20 minutes left of the show, so, I might as well finish this episode before starting a new task. 

It feels great, until it suddenly feels terrible. Somehow, it is not morning anymore and the day has passed by. In that moment of self-reflection, it becomes clear that I passively float through the day, escaping the tasks that would force me to sit with my feelings and thoughts. It leaves this sense of guilt, for wasting a day full of potential. When there is no means of external stimulation, there is only the voice in my mind left — there is only silence or screaming depending on the state of my mind. 

Binge-watching is a common subject, I’m not the first to reflect on this. The existence of the term ‘binge-watching’ is proof enough that it is a universal experience. Yet, it feels so isolating, like it is a singular experience that no other person could truly comprehend. A kind of guilt that no one else could understand. Besides, it’s embarrassing to discuss. How do I even begin to describe it? Sometimes I feel like I’m experiencing life from the passenger seat, because I need constant stimulation and find momentary fulfillment in binge-watching TV shows, which allows me to escape from the banality of life, such as cooking and doing laundry. 

It seems ridiculously obvious what the solution to this problem is: stop binge-watching. But is that truly enough? Taking away the act of binge-watching wouldn’t fix the actual problem; that I am used to constant distraction. If tomorrow I were to remove all platforms to stream TV shows and movies from, there would simply be other means of diving back into escaping the thoughts that feel too confrontational. The problem seems then to be rooted in the need for escapism and binge-watching is in and of itself simply a tool to execute this avoidance. Once I allowed myself to sit with the uncomfortable feelings and reflect on the actions that keep me in the passenger seat rather than the driver, the solution presented itself to me. It is not about what you are doing, it is about how mindful you are while doing it.

Do everything with intention — because you deserve to be the active agent of your own life. 

Article and photograph by Sofie Woetmann Fredeløkke