It’s curious that with all the “connectedness” we experience, facilitated by technology, the numbers of people who describe themselves as depressed and lonely keep rising, year after year after year. I thought for a long time that it was because of innate dissatisfaction with the quality of interaction, that the texting and messaging and videochat were simply no replacement for physical proximity and intimacy.

This may actually be a factor, but it seems to met that it’s a lot more. Observing peoples’ reactions when they’re forced by whatever circumstance to “disconnect” from the digital lifeline, physical and otherwise, it strikes me that the behaviors mirror chemical dependency. The nature of chemical dependency is such that the amount that brought the sense of well-being a month prior is no longer enough. The addict ups the dose and ups the frequency. It arrives at a point where the need to procure the next hit comes at the moment of the fix. I think that’s happening with electronic stimulation from mobile devices. The anxiety, after a point, grips the addict as he clicks ‘send’ and begins the wait for the response. An interruption in signal creates what any cokehead would instantly recognized as the itch. The electronic addict may or may not have experience with chemical dependency but still needs an explanation for the feeling that there is just never enough. He has no vocabulary for it. He might say:

That he is despondent.

That he is disconnected.

That he is lonely.

He’s not lonely. He’s just in withdrawal.

You can pile this onto any other source of existential angst but 20 years ago many fewer people would have described themselves as lonely. I believe it’s because we were used to being disconnected and on our own. It wasn’t that big a deal. It’s not that big a deal for someone to turn down a drink if they’re not an alcoholic either.

So you’re not lonely. You’re going through withdrawal.