TikTok doesn’t create your anxiety, it just knows exactly how to keep feeding it

TikTok has revolutionized social media. The platform has created an endless scroll of users sharing their lives nearly 24/7. Because of this unlimited access, the platform has become a hub of the human experience. People are more inclined to share the more intimate parts of their lives, which can lead to content that some may never have wanted to see, but it lands on their scroll anyway. We’ve all been there, scrolling TikTok for something completely innocuous and quickly finding ourselves watching a video about a medical mystery, a relationship red flag, a global crisis, an impending disaster, or someone’s deeply personal anxiety spiral.

Is TikTok making us more anxious, or is it simply very good at showing us the anxiety we already carry? TikTok’s algorithm is designed to keep users engaged, and anxiety is inherently engaging, and our fear makes us stop scrolling. TikTok may not create every fear we experience, but the platform’s ability to identify, personalize, and repeatedly serve emotionally charged content can create a feedback loop where anxiety becomes both the subject and the fuel of our online experience.

TikTok Has Become the Internet’s Informal Therapy Session

TikTok has become a place where people talk openly about everything from mental health to medical issues in ways that previous generations might never have experienced. Creators openly discuss anxiety and panic attacks, ADHD and autism, trauma, grief, and therapy experiences. Users like @elysemyers, @whyjordie, @alexblumy, and @yourowkelsey are examples of the broader ecosystem of creators whose documented personal experiences and content are relatable and have become a source of chatter for followers sharing their own experiences.  

The important distinction here is that this content can be comforting. From Alex Blumy’s stories about leaving investment banking for a life in the bush that includes dangerous snakes and spiders, to users rooting for Kelsey to break records, these types of content can bring people together. In the comments, users share their anxieties for the creators and start a conversation around mental health. TikTok can make people feel less alone. 

The Comfort of the Shared Experience

Anxiety-related TikTok content is incredibly compelling. There is a particular relief that comes from watching someone articulate a thought you’ve been afraid to say out loud. You might see a creator describe: “Does anyone else constantly worry that something terrible is about to happen?” And suddenly, your anxiety has a name. That can be helpful. It can encourage people to seek professional support, recognize symptoms, or understand that their experiences aren’t unique. But there is also a potential downside. 

The more content you watch about a particular fear, the more the platform learns you’re interested in it. That can create a cycle: You feel anxious, then you watch anxiety content, thus leading the algorithm to serve more anxiety content so you feel content or understood, so you keep watching, and then anxiety becomes the dominant lens through which you experience TikTok. Is TikTok simply reflecting anxiety or feeding it?

When the Algorithm Learns What Scares You

TikTok’s recommendation system is exceptionally good at learning what keeps a user watching. The problem is that engagement does not necessarily mean enjoyment. People may watch something because they want to know how the story ends or are looking for reassurance. But from the algorithm’s perspective, all of those behaviors can look remarkably similar: You stayed. This creates an uncomfortable possibility that the content that makes us feel the worst may also be the content we engage with the most.

TikTok doesn’t universally cause anxiety. Instead, the platforms built around engagement can unintentionally reward content that triggers intense emotional responses. One of the most complicated aspects of TikTok is that the same content can be both helpful and harmful. A creator talking about anxiety could potentially help someone recognize that they need therapy or even make someone feel less alone. But repeated exposure can also encourage self-diagnosis and reinforce anxious thinking. It can also encourage people to consistently monitor themselves for symptoms. 

TikTok Is Also a 24-Hour News Feed, and That’s a Problem

TikTok is now where many people encounter breaking news, political developments, disasters, wars, crime stories, and global crises, creating a collective anxiety. The platform’s strength is its speed. Its weakness is that everything can feel equally immediate. A funny video, a celebrity scandal, a natural disaster, and a terrifying global headline can all appear in the same scroll.

There is no emotional transition. This creates what could be described as an anxiety whiplash: You’re watching a video about someone’s morning routine, then suddenly you’re confronted with a crisis halfway around the world. The user never really gets to leave the news cycle.

Fear Content Can Feel Like Entertainment

TikTok is full of creators whose entire platform is focused around anxiety and fear-driven content. Users like @whyjordie focus on specific fears, while other users focus on medical phenomena, true crime, or the unexplained. 

Much of this content is genuinely fascinating. It can also be deeply anxiety-inducing. TikTok has essentially created an endless stream of micro-horror. Unlike a traditional horror movie, however, there is no ending. You can watch one scary story, swipe, and immediately receive another. The platform’s infinite scroll means the “horror movie” never reaches the credits.

So, Is TikTok Making Us Anxious?

TikTok can reflect existing anxiety by giving users a community where they feel understood. At the same time, its algorithm can amplify the topics users already engage with, potentially creating an anxiety feedback loop. The platform doesn’t necessarily need to invent a fear. It only needs to keep showing it to you. TikTok doesn’t have to make us anxious to become an anxiety machine. It only has to figure out what we’re already afraid of.

What would happen if we stopped treating every anxious thought or moment as content? Are we more interested in feeling understood, and, in turn, becoming consumed by that feeling?  TikTok can be a lifeline for people who feel isolated. It can also become a mirror that never lets us look away from ourselves. Maybe the most unsettling thing about TikTok isn’t that it knows what scares us. It’s that, after enough scrolling, we may start to wonder whether it knows us better than we know ourselves.

Image by Solen Feyissa on Unsplash

This is an opinion piece. The views expressed in this article are those of just the author.