After both of my parents died—Dad from Alzheimer’s disease; Mom from dementia and lung cancer—I struggled to regain the sense of purpose I’d had in my life before I became deeply involved in their care and passing.

I wrote briefly in “Mom’s Gone Missing” about the disorientation I experienced and how it left me feeling out of sorts in every way. I likened it to the discomfort of the teenage years and waited patiently for it to pass. I reasoned I was merging back onto the freeway of life and while the entrance ramp seemed long, it would surely re-connect me to a life of engagement and purpose.

It did. And something else happened. It took me to a place I didn’t recognize much and enjoyed even less.

It led me to legions of people who were out of sorts. Not just occasionally, but daily. Not just a little cranky, but deeply angry. And not just a little confused but distracted to the extent they could no longer point to their North Star—hell, they thought ‘north star’ was an expression deriving from astronomy—and they gave that up a long time ago for their numerologist, neuropsychologist, and life coach.

As is my wont, I took time to observe. Without judgment or diving into analysis of causal agents, I saw people with a new appendage: a phone. I saw ear buds. I saw clothing that suggested certain individuals were trying to decide whether they were going to clean their garage (not likely) or seek a hook-up somewhere casual.

I saw vacant eyes, deepening frown lines, and hunched shoulders. I saw indifference as people transacted their business at grocery stores and gas stations. Fellow humans were annoyances.

Let me pause here to say this indifference is often a characteristic of aging. People get crabby as they age. But somehow the gap between teenage angst and this new grumpiness disappeared. No longer reserved for the difficult passages of adolescence and aging, this phenomenon had settled in and become a feature of daily life for all.

Hmm. This intrigued me. Where did the happier, more productive, more satisfying middle years go? The longer I pondered this, the keener my curiosity grew. I began to talk with people about their current state. Having focused my professional attention on confidence—what it is, where it comes from and what either builds or destroys it—a link seemed to emerge. I am still working with a hypothesis that distraction is a major cause of reduced confidence and that it leads to sharply declining interest in building capacity. Agency, as human development specialists would call it.

My hypothesis is that perpetual distraction leads to deep and abiding confusion about what is important, what one’s purpose is, and what success looks like.

Part of this is the number of self-professed gurus who will guide you in finding peace, contentment, rock-star status, a fantastically toned physique and riches beyond your imagination. Problem is they have their own unique take on these issues and more often than not they disagree. Now what?

Another factor is social media, the devil we like to point to. Ironically, it is the first thing we might consider scaling back from our daily routines.

The guru gasps: But no! If you are not seen online, you do not exist! If you do not share your wisdom, tricks of the trade, recipes, photos of your exotic vacation locales, and your beautiful children or pets, you are missing the good life.

It’s tiresome.

Rarely do you see photos of real people snacking on Cheetos, sipping adult beverages, eating ice cream from its container or doing other mundane human things. Losers!

All that salt, sugar and alcohol make for broken down people.

It’s tough to argue that. However, I have yet to meet that perfect soul who indulges only what the body can use without waste or lives a life so error free as to wear a perpetual smile and radiant halo. I’d probably take a swing if I saw it.

The point is that we all encounter challenge, disappointment, failure, fear, doubt, and all the rest of the junk we’d rather avoid. Separated from one another by a host of inventions, we frequently feel alone and often inadequate. Everyone online looks so happy. What’s wrong with me?

Nothing is wrong with you aside from being a real-life flawed human. We all are. And that can be a very bitter pill to swallow. So we resume our frenzied scrolling and swiping, hoping that maybe today is the day we find the magic bullet.

It is exhausting. Demoralizing. Draining. Eminently irritating.

My amateur advice: Quit it. Or at the very least give it a rest three days a week.