I Work In Media And It's My Job To Be Chronically Online—Here's How I Do A Realistic(!) Digital Detox

Working in digital media means I'm the epitome of being "chronically online." My day starts with checking e-mails, Slack and Teams notifications, and trending topics—all before I've had my v important iced coffee. By lunchtime, I've already scrolled through TikTok for "inspiration" (I'm working, I promise), refreshed Instagram more times than I'd like to admit in case a newsy story pops up, and mentally written article outlines while commuting to work.

It's all part of the job. Being online isn't optional—it's literally how I stay informed, inspired, and most importantly, employed. 😅 But somewhere between keeping up with the ever-changing trends and algorithm shifts, I realized something uncomfortable (and TBH, quite sad):

The thing about digital burnout is that it doesn't always manifest physically. For me, it shows up in my shorter attention span, mental fog, and being overstimulated while also feeling bored at the same time. As much as I wish I could log off completely, it's just not realistic at all when my meetings, deadlines, and deliverables live online.

So, for 2026, I decided I had to try figuring out how to detox while still facing the reality that I'll always be chronically online—and surprisingly, it was more doable than it sounds. Here's how I'm doing it:

For a long time, I thought doing a digital detox meant completely going cold turkey from the Internet—zero screen time, no notifs, nothing. It sounded good, but let's be real: It's wildly incompatible and unrealistic considering my job description.

Confession: Every time I've tried doing a digital detox during my VLs, my brain refuses to clock out and be in the moment. I've caught myself screenshotting social media posts for future article pitches and even sneak-peeking at our team's Slack channels just to see what I was missing while I was away. It was peak work FOMO, I know. 😵‍💫

Anyway, what worked better for me was reframing detoxing as creating boundaries instead of completely eliminating technology. I stopped aiming for total disconnection and instead started focusing on intentional usage. The goal became using the Internet as a tool, not letting it dictate my mood, focus, and attention span.

The rise of analog hobbies—journaling, film photography, physical planners, and the like—might look aesthetic (and even slightly performative) on social media, but there's a reason people are gravitating toward them. Doing things offline forces your brain to slow down and live in the moment instead of being at the mercy of social media.

I started small. Instead of doomscrolling until I fell asleep, I'd take the time to physically write down everything that happened that day as a way to reflect and remember. Instead of reading books via my phone (which is not so great for my attention span, btw—one notif pops up and I'm gone), I gravitated back towards physical copies.

I also switched to using a physical planner for mapping out my day. (Hobonichi enthusiasts, wya? 🤭) Digital calendars are efficient, yes, but writing down my tasks makes them feel more tangible—and crossing them off makes me feel more accomplished than simply deleting them from an online list.

Full digital detox days sound like the dream, but they can also feel stressful when you know your inbox is filling up in the background. What worked better for me was scheduling small windows where being offline is non-negotiable.

In the morning, instead of spending my first 30 minutes awake and on my phone, I forced myself to get up and do something else—read, write, or eat. I also do my best to try to protect parts of my evenings. I set up my phone to automatically go on DND at a certain time, so any notifications I might receive can wait until morning. Having moments where I'm "unreachable" helps create a mental separation between work and rest.

One of the biggest contributors to digital burnout is information overload. When your job requires staying updated, it's easy to justify following everything and everyone "just in case a story pops up later on." However, curating your feed is a form of self-preservation.

I started unfollowing accounts that made me feel drained, anxious, or creatively blocked—even if they were popular or relevant to my industry. Muting notifs from group chats that weren't urgent also helped more than I expected.

I didn't realize how allergic I'd become to boredom until I tried to sit through it without grabbing my phone. Waiting in line, riding in a car, even just lying in bed before sleeping—every empty moment used to automatically turn into scrolling time. When I started resisting that urge, I noticed how much calmer my thoughts felt. It gave me the chance to reorganize my thoughts, take in more of my surroundings, and get inspired—which, in turn, helped me work more productively.

The Internet moves fast, and working in digital media means constantly trying to keep up. But I've learned that not everything has to be consumed, documented, or responded to in real time. Slowing down—even in small, analog ways—has helped me feel more present, more creative, and honestly, less overwhelmed by the very space I work in every day. Logging off completely isn't realistic for me, but learning how to log off just enough has made all the difference.