Featured image for Doomscrolling Dreams: When Digital Overload Invades the Unconscious

Doomscrolling Dreams: When Digital Overload Invades the Unconscious

By Luna Nightingale

Part 1: Dream Presentation

Dreams often serve as psychological mirrors, reflecting the preoccupations and tensions of our waking lives with surreal clarity. This particular dream emerges from a modern digital context, capturing the uncanny intersection of technology and the unconscious mind. Here is the narrative of that liminal experience:

The early morning hours, around 4 AM, found me in a state of half-sleep as I crashed on the couch after a relentless week. My feline companion, ever punctual, roused me at her habitual feeding time, her soft meows cutting through the quiet. I existed in that liminal space where consciousness and dreams blur—my brain oscillating between wakefulness and slumber, unsure if I was truly awake or still in the throes of sleep. In this twilight state, I suddenly recognized I was doomscrolling through TikTok and Reels, my eyes (or so it seemed) fixated on a scrolling feed that existed only in the half-light of my mind. A flicker of actual awareness pierced through: Stop this. You need to feed the cat. I jolted upright, momentarily disoriented, yet the absurdity of the moment lingered. Almost playfully, I thought, What if I try to do it again—intentionally, in the dream? Against my better judgment, I closed my eyes and focused on the urge to continue that scrolling motion. To my surprise, it worked. In the dream, I was half-lucid, navigating a digital feed that felt eerily real. The interface hummed with the familiar rhythm of transitions, the sounds of videos (though silent, I heard them in my mind), and the visual flow of content. Yet, as I scanned the feed, I noticed something uncanny: there were no actual videos—only still images, each accompanied by a soundtrack and, most bizarrely, captions. These captions were nonsensical, like the output of an AI model that had lost its way. Words would form, then twist into something else, never quite cohering. My brain instinctively tried to make sense of them, as if auto-correcting a broken ad campaign or translating a language I didn’t speak. At one point, I thought, This is literally AI slop, but it’s coming from inside my own head. The more I fixated on the captions, the more my mind strained to impose logic on the chaos. Eventually, the illusion shattered: I opened my eyes to find myself sitting upright on the couch, my cat staring at me with that unblinking, judgmental gaze that only a cat can muster—What are you doing, human? I laughed, disoriented, yet haunted by the surreal experience. It felt both hilariously absurd and slightly disturbing, a mirror held up to how my brain processes information when left to its own devices in the in-between moments of sleep and wakefulness. If you ever find yourself in that limbo, I thought, maybe try it. See what cursed feed your subconscious conjures up.

Part 2: Clinical Analysis

Symbolic Landscape: Digital Dreams and the Uncanny Valley of AI

The dream’s core imagery centers on the modern phenomenon of doomscrolling—a behavior defined by compulsive, aimless scrolling through social media and news platforms, often leading to increased anxiety and disconnection. In this dream, the act of doomscrolling is literalized in a liminal state between sleep and wakefulness, where the brain attempts to simulate digital behavior even when the body is resting. The