Our not so roaring twenties, and why we choose to escape from everything
The world feels like it’s constantly falling apart around us, but we wake up each day and face real problems from this real life. Sometimes, I wish I could smoke a cigarette. With that in hand, the other would be a black cup of iced coffee splashed with milk, shaken—it doesn’t matter. I'd have an excellent breakfast with the smoke stick rolling between my fingers. Only that I don’t smoke, and coffee must come after a meal. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have my vices.
As I near the end of my twenties, I’ve come to peace knowing that stressful situations never really go away. We just develop a certain threshold for them, and the next big thing hits you because you’re yet to have a propensity for it. Rinse and repeat. But I don’t always become a better person for it.
Lately, I haven’t been comfortable with silence. Sometimes, it becomes so loud that it terrifies me, and I look for ways to push out the ringing void.
Time (not) well spent
I don’t rest in my downtime—I find excuses to move around. I’ve developed new ways to keep my brain occupied.
For shower times, I bring over my Bluetooth speaker and listen to different variations of Carrie Bradshaw’s character arc analysis. During my commute, I put on random podcasts spanning fashion to the fall of the Tudor. At work, I listen to the entire soundtrack of Hamilton. On particularly challenging tasks, though, I put on white noise with 89 Hz for concentration and focus. At dinner time, I select from a wide range of YouTube videos. I ended up leaving that on until I washed the dishes, vacuumed, wiped down surfaces, etc. The only time I turn anything off is when I read, but that doesn’t help much, does it? My brain’s still processing x words/minute.
It’s a cycle I’m stuck in, and no matter how many “reset” days I allow myself, I feel like I’m clawing at nothing—deep inside the hole I dug myself in, I am blind to the relief of whatever’s waiting above.
In the psychological context, “Escapism” is described as an “emotion-focused” mechanism to deal with stress. Sociologists Stanley Cohen and Laurie Taylor, on the other hand, define it as “an interruption of the routines and monotony of daily life.”
In general, escapism is a means of temporarily escaping the woes of real life. Perhaps my daily compulsion to face multiple screens and audio formats simultaneously constitutes my main escapism—the digital world, time-eater.
In an article written for Psychology Today, psychologist Graham Collier suggests that escapism is “the compulsive need to constantly be engaged in living an electronic life of fact-finding, problem-solving, video game playing, and personal chit-chat…And this at the expense of retreating from life’s ‘goings-on’ from time to time to exercise the Mind by mentally re-living events.”
I know this isn’t normal. The truth’s always behind me in a clean, easy-to-understand formula: the amount of content I consume is directly proportional to the number of things I want to run away from. But I also know it’s not just me. In the polarizing, endless pit of social media content, I see people running away in their choice of direction. That is, people engage in many forms of escapism.
Money (not) well spent
It isn’t just our time on the line. It’s also our finances. When something trends online, we chase to experience the same thing at the expense of next month’s paycheck. Ordering something online is so easy. When stress and uncertainty are constant, you would want to experience something to disrupt these sensations quickly. For these dopamine boosts, we turn to instant gratification.
I scroll through my choice of a social platform and see someone unboxing an ungodly amount of blind boxes (Who needs the whole set, I think to myself as I mentally take note of the new series). Next, someone recounts their experiences on a trip they’ve been to in East Asia. (Tips and tricks to get reasonably priced round-trip tickets? I bookmark it.)
We run away from so many things, but the only thing we’re running towards is something temporary. John L. Longeway argues that escapism is a behavior characterized as “a sort of defensive mechanism, whose primary purpose is to deter negative, unwanted thoughts or emotions, e.g., guilt, anxiety, powerlessness or any other state idiosyncratically causing discomfort.”
Such problems could be personal stressors needing attention or a lack of something. However, it’s equally important to acknowledge that many of these can also be systemic, like a lack of job security, being the breadwinner in the family, or being forced to pursue a career in the name of survival.
It’s also the in-between trying to live a decent life that makes things worse.
It’s a commute system so horrible that it’s a decades-long project for which no one has answers. It’s unworthy candidates given endless chances to hold office, designed to provide solutions. It’s an economy highly dependent on certain variables that make it difficult to purchase a day’s worth of food and non-food essentials, much less a week's worth.
It’s a culture where rewarding yourself seems too selfish, so the only plausible way to push back is to “treat” yourself when in reality, you should definitely be able to enjoy some of your hard-earned money.
The more you’re meant to feel like you’re supposed to be saving up for the future or a portion for “more important” things, the more inclined you are to engage in “deserve ko ‘to” moments because that’s the only way to continue feeling like you’re in control.
And when that isn’t enough, you escape to even more escapism habits.
The causation trap
Much of my life revolves around figuring out how to become an “adult” properly. I’m yet to figure out the best schedule to handle my chores, but I spend a significant amount of time juggling a full-time job and several part-time gigs. This keeps me afloat with rising costs, as the financial reward allows me to live a livable life. This though gets harder and harder to do and achieve.
Philippine Statistics Authority reports that March 2025 has decreased the inflation rate, now at 1.8 % from February’s 2.1%. But as I look at how quickly my cash depletes, I wonder where it goes. The measly P5,000 grocery haul of only two bags? Or perhaps the P2,000 in electricity bill despite being gone from my unit (I live alone), more hours than I rest in it? Is it my daily P150 cup of coffee, fueling me to grind another day? I rarely eat out, and when I do, I share the bill with my friends. Besides, shouldn't eating out occasionally be a well-deserved reward?
In all honesty, it takes too much to maintain a relatively good physique, a working schedule, and a decent-looking home. Just one setback or break from routine throws me off, and then it’s done.
I will have to do another “reset,” probably guided by some random YouTuber who reassures me that it’s okay if life falls apart. Just do a Sunday reset thing, and you’ll be back in no time! Or, take another sick leave—I burn through that faster than I earn them now.
And so, the Causation Trap ensues. We need money to survive and to survive, there must be work. For there to be work, you invest your energy into it. But work ends up taking not just your energy but your life. So you try to find meaning elsewhere, grasping at straws, leading to time not being well spent and money not being well spent.
Is there an escape from escapism?
I’ve scoured the internet countless times for plausible solutions, combed through different community threads of advice and musings, and poured over scholarly journals in an attempt to cure my penchant for avoidance.
Unfortunately, the running away never stops. But we can run away in better directions.
Professor Michael W Clune of Case Western Reserve University posits that “[d]one right, participating in escapist activities enables us to leave our habitual mindsets behind and access new perspectives.”
Escapism, in healthy amounts, can help us live better. It gives us a space to breathe from our daily routines, helping us return to them with fresh perspectives and renewed energy. Our hobbies, for instance, allow us to experience more of what we find meaningful in life.
Instead of running away, we could begin running towards something good, something worth it, something better than short hits of dopamine, something better than distraction.
Our roaring twenties will continue to feel chaotic, but even rough roads can lead us to good places.
