How I Killed Mine (Or: My Life Beyond Cellphones)

Today, let us talk about cell phones.

I don’t own a cellphone. Can anyone else claim as much?

A Brief History of Cellphones

The only truly unbreakable cell phone that I have ever had was a Samsung Galaxy S-II.


Look how it just stares at you

Now, I want to be very clear about something: I hate this fucking phone. There is no love lost between us. I hated it for the three years that I had it, but during that time, I developed a mentality, which while I think it is responsible led to our mutually assured destruction.

When it came to electronics: until it is broke, I don’t fix it. Meaning if the screen is cracked, but usable, I just keep trucking. So I used that piece of shit every day. It didn’t matter to me that it:

  1. Overheated like a son of a bitch
  2. Died repeatedly throughout the day if I called one person for 15 minutes
  3. Had no data plan
  4. When I got a data plan it couldn’t keep up with the network traffic
  5. And on and on and on….

Every day I got angry at that phone. And every day I hummed it at the ground hoping against hope that it would smash. But, not only wouldn’t the screen crack, but the casing wouldn’t dent or even scratch. I turned it in to a T-Mobile store years later and they were amazed.

Them: “How long have you had this?

Me: “A few years.”

Them: “This looks amazing.”

Me: “I know.”

Them: “You took really good care of this.”

Me: “I really didn’t.”

So one day my phone would turn on to a blank screen. I thought, “OH GOOD. What fresh hell is this?”

I brought it in to a T-Mobile store. They told me that the SIM reader was busted. Somehow it had fried itself. They said it should have outlasted the phone. They asked if I wanted it replaced. I said how much. They said about the cost of the phone.

I started laughing. Maniacally. In a T-Mobile store. The employees looked back and forth at each other worriedly. I laughed. Told them I would like a new phone.

So I got a Galaxy Galaxy Core Prime:


You beautiful bastard

And that little guy lasted all of three months. Before the screen shattered. And then I kept using it because…well the screen still worked. Didn’t matter that I was cutting my fingers on it. I could still use it, so I kept using it.

Finally, when it got too severe I did get it fixed. But, that pattern repeated itself probably two or three times. It would shatter within a month and then I would continue to use it until it “broke” and then I would get it replaced.

One time it broke when I was playing PokemonGo. I was walking on cement trying to get a signal. It fell. I blamed myself. One time I tried filming myself hula hooping because I wanted to look cool for social media. I knocked the phone clean out of my hand. It shattered on the concrete. I blamed myself for not asking other people.

The point is: there were many things that were completely out of my control for why I now had a broken phone (gravity). I didn’t need to blame myself, but I did.

Anyway, fast forward to about March of this year. The screen is cracked, but still usable. A cat who shall remain nameless decided to knock my phone off of my top floor of my loft to the ground below. I discovered this after my shower at about 5am. I look at it and half the screen is completely black. I freaked out, my partner freaked out. I said gimme a minute and went upstairs to meditate.

After half an hour I let the scared voices go quiet and started asking myself really reasonable questions like:

  • Why is this so important?
  • Do I really need a phone?
  • If it is just going to cause me anxiety and distress why bother getting it replaced?

So even when my partner suggested that she pay for the cost of replacing it (it was her cat) I said no. I would try living without it. And so I have for six months now.

My Life Now

I feel very free walking down the street. It is very freeing to throw away a piece of tech that people take for granted. It is kind of like walking around without underwear. Nobody needs to know you’re doing it, but you feel kind of cool anyway.

Google Voice

You see, I had already transitioned to a digital number while I still had my cellphone. I decided a plan of $600 annually where basically all I used my phone for was a mobile computer was highly unrealistic. So I cancelled it and transitioned to a Google Voice number. I highly recommend it to everyone. Having it as an international option if nothing else (it works wherever there is google).

So my phone went from a mobile social media center to something I could only use on wifi anyway. Once the screen broke for good, I just got rid of it and instead started relying on my tablet and desk computer.

Google Voice Features

  1. I can use any of my devices now as a calling and video messaging service so long as I have a strong enough connection.
  2. If the program is open, people can call me like they would any phone
  3. If the program is closed or I am unavailable, the call goes to voice mail, which I can access at my leisure
  4. Google will transcribe it for me into a text file
  5. Depending on your settings you can have your notifications sent to you through text (if you still have a phone), email, or through media.
  6. If you have a cell service and someone calls your Google Number, the phone call will not only be forwarded to you, but you will have the option to take the call or send it to voicemail after you hear the person say their name

I cannot emphasize how cool all of this is, especially if you still have a phone and a cell service. It is like having your own personal secretary! She will even field your calls for you. 


Here is the thing that I wasn’t expecting: I couldn’t keep my same number.

That really was very, very sad. I have had my cellphone since I was 14, which means I have had the same personal phone number since I was 14. It had more significance than my home phone number did. My home number is how you reach my parents. MY number is how you reach ME.

And I lost it, guys. I lost it when I gave up my plan.

So my number changed.

Which meant that nobody had it. I am still sending texts and calling people reintroducing my number. People are still calling my old number, which has since been given to a very irate middle aged man as I understand it. I’ve considered calling him to apologize about the confusion, but figure it’s probably best to leave him well enough alone.

So those are some of my biggest regrets:

  • Losing my original number
  • Losing my contacts for a lot of people with that
  • People not knowing how to get in contact with me

If I were to do something again, I’d probably find a way to get in touch with all the people in my contacts just to make sure that I could stay in touch with everyone.


What I was most surprised about was the vitriol that I would receive for making this personal choice, which if I could remind you was:

To not replace my phone.

It wasn’t like one day I decided to trade it in or burn it or anything. My phone broke, I decided I didn’t need the hassle and anxiety of replacing it particularly with where my financial situation was.

That being said, I have lived and worked in a number of industries. A lot of them ask for a reliable way to get in touch with you, which is reasonable.

Now, keep in mind that my employers have that. I have provided all of them with my

  • new digital number &
  • they have my email.

The only thing I did not do was I did not inform them that I had broken my cellphone because I figured that that would discourage people from using my new number.


In most instances my not having a cellphone caused a lot of animosity or distancing between me and my work contacts (even after I told them it was now broken). I was astounded and when I asked why it came down to one thing:

We need to be able to get in contact with you all of the time.

This staggered me.  It wasn’t even subtle; I have had that literally said in a directive tone of voice by employers or managers. Some asked what it would take for me to get a new phone. This was the root of all of the problems I had had with every organization over the last few months.

I was made to feel crazy, but the more I thought about it the more crazy the notion seemed to me.

There is an idea that we all need access to each other all of the time. And I’m seeing it more and more:

  • Work places use Facebook to befriend and open private group messages between employees
  • Through Facebook and other social media tools private files are shared, work related events are planned totally through the social networking platform
  • Employers have their own private form of social media, a private messaging service, that is required by their employees to be open all of the time for “emergencies” but they can shut off when they go home

It is this mad-brained idea that we, as employees, need to be in contact or able to be contacted 24/7. Think about it and think about it in your own lives. Why should we do that?

Why should I, an artist, be treated like I am on-call like a doctor or a nurse? People aren’t going to die if I get stuck in traffic. People aren’t going to die if I get into an accident and have to be rushed to the hospital.

I’ll give you an example. I was working on a show. I also use public transit. Sometimes it is on time, sometimes it is late. Because I don’t have access to a cellphone, I cannot call ahead. So there I am, sitting on the bus, approaching the rehearsal hall. I get there just a few minutes late. The stage manager pulls me aside and asks why I didn’t call ahead. I inform them that I don’t have a cell phone and that I take public transit, that this might be a thing moving forward. They tell me they need me to call ahead if I am going to be late.

Now, I appreciate their position. They need to know if they need to move on or not. But, seriously, what is the best solution? What did people do in times of yore? Because I only have so many resources. It’s not like there are payphones everywhere. Not everyone has a cellphone and not everyone is willing to let a stranger use theirs. I cannot predict when I am going to be late based on traffic and once I’m out of my house, I have no way to do it.

But, here is the kicker for me: I was five minutes late. It wasn’t the only time, and I am no angel, but I was five minutes late. It was a first offense and I warned there could be others. But, FIVE minutes late. There was just this implicit assumption that I had access to a phone and that I should have called ahead. That I was in dereliction of my duty to inform my manager. And they would be correct, but how could I possibly have done that? I ask you. These things can keep a person up at night.

The Nitty Gritty

I am discovering in the midst of everyone else’s inter connectivity what an island I live on.

If anyone has any suggestions on how they have lived without cellphones in the past, I’d be happy to learn because I was not even working when I got my first one.

I do want to end with this though: I find it absolutely liberating.

  • I cannot call ahead so I don’t worry about it.
  • The only times I get mad are when people are in the room with me.
  • Arguments don’t last longer than they need to.
  • I can’t storm off and then type out my staircase wit (l’esprit de l’escalier).

There is a certain freedom to that. I have to tell people my stories while I’m there. I don’t get to just walk away. It makes for a lovely organization to my life of which I have grown fond.

I have to tell people I love or hate them to their faces a lot and very quickly before we part.

That is just the nicest thing.


The Sunshine Clown

I was taught to never start to never start an essay with a quote:

Depression (n.): common, but serious mood disorder. It causes severe symptoms that affect how you feel, think, and handle daily activities, such as sleeping, eating, or working. To be diagnosed with depression, the symptoms must be present for at least two weeks.

Also to cite my sources: Source


Also, also:

If you have been experiencing some of the following signs and symptoms most of the day, nearly every day, for at least two weeks, you may be suffering from depression:

  • Persistent sad, anxious, or “empty” mood
  • Feelings of hopelessness, or pessimism
  • Irritability
  • Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness
  • Loss of interest or pleasure in hobbies and activities
  • Decreased energy or fatigue
  • Moving or talking more slowly
  • Feeling restless or having trouble sitting still
  • Difficulty concentrating, remembering, or making decisions
  • Difficulty sleeping, early-morning awakening, or oversleeping
  • Appetite and/or weight changes
  • Thoughts of death or suicide, or suicide attempts
  • Aches or pains, headaches, cramps, or digestive problems without a clear physical cause and/or that do not ease even with treatment


Everyone is going to leave me.

That is what it is like:


Everyone is going to leave. Specifically me.

They are going to leave. And I have to tell you, I will be hard pressed when the time comes to tell them why they should stay.

  • Persistent sad, anxious, or “empty” mood
  • Feelings of hopelessness, or pessimism

It gets really bad when people threaten to leave. Even for a little while. To “get some air” or “go somewhere” or “get away for a little while.”

Because at last the time has come. They’ve realized that now is the time to do it. I get upset that they take their time with the leaving. If they wanted to go they should just say so and get it over with and DAMN IT WHY AREN’T THEY LEAVING?

  • Irritability

And so I lash out. I say mean things that I wouldn’t normally say. I say horrible things that nobody should ever say. I apologize to my friends, my family, my partner and they say it is all right. And I cannot imagine how or where it could possibly be all right.

  • Feelings of guilt, worthlessness, or helplessness

So we try to do things. Things that we both enjoy, things that we do enjoy, things that we have enjoyed in the past in the way back when. Like go places or do things: scale a mountain, read a book, play video games, work on stuff. But, it somehow isn’t the same. The feeling is there, the ever-present feeling that I screwed up, that I did something wrong. So I don’t enjoy it; I expect them to enjoy it, but I have to hold back, I have to be punished for my behavior.

  • Loss of interest or pleasure in hobbies and activities

Most of the time I just want to go to bed. There is something tiring about mental illness that just wipes you out. You don’t want to deal with it, so I sleep.

  • Decreased energy or fatigue
  • Moving or talking more slowly

But, of course, the problem didn’t go away. You didn’t go away. I didn’t go away. The problem must be me. So I wake up from dead sleep hyperventilating. And I lay awake for a few hours just thinking about getting up and all of the things that I have to do to make up for this behavior.

  • Feeling restless or having trouble sitting still
  • Difficulty sleeping, early-morning awakening, or oversleeping

Once I am finally vertical, I have shit that I need to do. See, I have set myself up for so much success at this point by going to bed early, waking up late, lying in bed all day with little to no mobility and why, oh why haven’t I moved this whole effing day?! So what can I do? What is left to do? Everything? Shit. I have to move. I have to do something. But, what? Suddenly, I have to decide what was most important to me four hours ago, six hours ago, eight hours ago. What appointments haven’t I missed?

  • Difficulty concentrating, remembering, or making decisions

This of course means that I don’t eat. Why would I? Food wasn’t the most important thing on the list anyway, besides, if I wanted to eat, I should have gotten up earlier. Much, much earlier!

  • Appetite and/or weight changes

  • Thoughts of death or suicide, or suicide attempts

I can’t explain this one:

  • Aches or pains, headaches, cramps, or digestive problems without a clear physical cause and/or that do not ease even with treatment

Except to say what the website says:

Not everyone who is depressed experiences every symptom. Some people experience only a few symptoms while others may experience many.

Not everyone who is depressed experiences every symptom.

But, you need to experience a few.

I experience a few of these symptoms.

But, I do not experience them in a linear way. I do not experience them and the people around me do not experience them in a logical way.

Because mental illness is not logical. It doesn’t make sense.

But, even as I type this, even as I say the words aloud: Everyone is going to leave me. I can’t help it.

I can’t help feeling this way. I hate feeling this way.

I look in friend’s eyes and see them looking away. I think they are looking for the exit.

I hear someone is late to an appointment, I cut the game short, I say I’ll call them an Uber because it is my fault that they are late.

Every time someone does a kind deed for me, I feel karma like a cruel and bitchy mistress cutting into me saying: Why aren’t you a better person? Why didn’t you think to offer? Why couldn’t you just do better?

So I try. I really, really try.

Every single day I fight and grapple and contend with every single aspect of this.

I don’t know how and I don’t know if any of it gets any better.

But, I try to be there for my friends. I try to help them. I try not to be a burden and hope that I make some small progress.

Because everyone is going to leave me. And when they do I hope it won’t be a bad thing.

Because I’m not defined by this warped and twisted thing that nobody else can see. Or everybody else can see. It changes.

I want to be better. I want to feel better.

But, I can’t.

And maybe that is okay.

I hope to hell that it is okay, that I am okay on my bad days. On my worst days.

Because I am told that even at my worst, even at my most worst moments, I am still my best self. But, it is my best self in a belly of suffering that I just can’t seem to come out of.

Every time I think I have tricked my brain into behaving, it turns around and I find myself further from the people that I care about.

So this is me trying.

This is me writing through the worst of it. I hope that there can be a kernel of joy somewhere in this heinous mess. Because that is what I want. I hate depression because it feels like an excuse.

I fight every day to be happy. I am at war with my inner self. I am a peaceful warrior and I think that I am winning. But, my foe looks like me. He sounds nothing like me, he thinks nothing like me, but I am afraid that he is me and that scares me beyond reason.

Maybe there is no winning for good. Maybe there is no eternal happy state. But, I can fight the good fight and hope that I don’t get my ass handed to me for years on end like I did before.

Here is to hoping.


The End