I am distraught but I am in paradise

So soon after declaring I was all charged up, I have spent an hour trying (and failing) to unknot the twists in my stomach.

First drafted in our final hours near the shallow blue-green ocean.

The morning after our vacation in the Florida keys—more than four days where I kept my phone and computer offline—I reconnected to the internet. I started with text messages, scanning through a manageable number of updates in my family’s group chat and a couple notes from friends. (It isn’t unusual for my responses to come after a delay, so no big deal on that front.)

Then I moved to emails. It took a half hour to organize 51 new messages and schedule upcoming tasks accordingly (thank you, Todoist) before I gave Instagram a brief scan, clicking through too many story updates before shaking myself free of the compulsion to scroll scroll scroll.

In theory, the fact that it was so simple for me to jump back into the digital world should be comforting. I disconnected for the better part of a week… and nothing exploded! Nothing collapsed! That underscores the futility of constantly checking my apps when I am online. Rarely do…