ASMR — An Antidote for Isolation?

If isolation and social distancing have taught us anything, it’s that human connection is important. We are social animals that crave the comfort and endorphins that come with human interaction. So what do we do when this crucial pillar of human existence is ripped from underneath us? We turn to Zoom, Facetime and virtual house parties, and while they do give us the visual signifiers of human socialising we yearn for, they also come with the pressure to perform; that is, to get dressed, sit up properly, frame our cameras appropriately (a task many have yet to master) and to contribute something.

What they don’t offer is an antidote to the horrendous repetitive news cycle of fear and mortality. Rather than feel overwhelmed, anxious and existentially terrified all the time, we long to feel reassured, safe and looked after. Particularly if we are isolating alone and haven’t had anyone offer us a cup of tea or hug in weeks.

So what if there was a person on the other side of a screen whose sole aim was to help you feel comforted and cared for, and who, crucially, expects nothing in return?

If you’ve never tried ASMR before, now might be a good time.

Essentially, it involves a stranger (on the internet, somewhere in the world) encouraging you to relax or fall asleep by going through a series of triggers that creates a tingling sensation down the back of your neck. This sensation, for those fortunate enough to feel it, is called ASMR, which stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response, a term coined in 2010.

However, just how some people cannot roll their tongue or grow wisdom teeth, it appears that not everyone can experience ASMR. For me, it’s like physically feeling endorphins getting released at the base of my skull and floating around my scalp, pleasantly inducing me into a deeply relaxing sort of trance.

In my experience, people respond to this description in one of three ways: a knowing nod or exclamation of ‘Ah yes, I get that too!”; a look of total bewilderment and confusion; or they attempt to try and describe a different feeling (mistaking it for ASMR) — such as frisson (usually related to music), a shiver, goosebumps or god forbid, an orgasm.

It is not any of those things.

But, if you don’t recognise this description, fear not, as there are a surprising number of viewers who admit they do not experience the tingling sensations, but still enjoy the experience of being soothed by these videos.

For me, I was relieved when the BBC published an article six years ago and a name was finally given to a sensation that I had experienced sporadically since I was a child, but that no one else seemed to talk about.

Fast-forward to the present day and the art of triggering ASMR is now a haven of the internet that has been softly tapping away for almost a decade. Initially ridiculed for being creepy, it has sustained and blossomed into a rapidly growing online community and become a staple in the routine of millions of us. The content creators or ASMRtists, as they are known, are quietly beckoning millions of viewers from their bedrooms and living rooms, and generating millions of dollars of Youtube revenue with it. It is extraordinary and, like any talent in a crowded online market, it involves extraordinary skill to cultivate and keep a large following.

For that reason, I dare to say that ASMRtists are some of the most creative, committed and caring people on the internet. Type ‘ASMR’ into Youtube and you are presented with a platter of tantalising options that master the art of repetition and mundanity — after all, the aim is to gently lull you to sleep.

Your preferred flavour might be hearing someone whisper inaudibly for twenty minutes, roleplay as an air stewardess, pretend to wash your hair, tap different jars of nail polish, or watch someone eat raw honeycomb while encouraging you to savour to every succulent sound.

There really is something for everyone. It is a feast for the senses and a delicious way to be coaxed into a sweet slumber and forget about your chaotic day, ruminating thoughts, or the uncertainty unleashed upon our fragile minds and bodies in the midst of a global virus pandemic.

If mental illness wasn’t already a catastrophic problem before this pandemic, it has likely gotten worse during it, and while we can hope that the appreciation of the small things — a hug, a meal out, social gatherings — will feel sweeter than before, I imagine this will be the first time many of us have experienced anything close to depression or anxiety.

For years, ASMR has been a tool of great comfort, or even a lifeline, for people experiencing mental illness, loneliness or insomnia. For those tiptoeing on the edge of these frustrating emotions now, I urge you to try ASMR. You only have to read the comments below the Youtube videos to understand how appreciated the videos are from people all around the world, and the strong communities built from them. It’s important to add that ASMR is not a form of therapy, nor should it be treated as such, but for me it has always been a welcoming place of solace and warmth in a world that can sometimes feel uncaring, disconnected and cold.

Before the tsunami of coronavirus hit our shores, ASMR symbolically filled a gap in the busy, hectic lives of some of us, providing a temporary sanctuary in our daily routine. We live in a society that tells us to be productive, proactive and readily available on our phones, emails and social media 24 hours a day; it’s no wonder millions of us were already tuning into this form of relaxation on tap.

It might seem nonsensical that we could cure our need for human interaction through an internet tab on a phone screen, but it’s surprising how much we can suspend our disbelief and feel as though this person is speaking only to us, overriding our logical minds with a stronger desire for the personal and intimate.

Does it matter that they are speaking to thousands of others too? Clearly not. And anyway, it still means they are speaking to us. When we listen to a song and the lyrics seem to align perfectly with our current lives, we don’t turn off because they were written about someone else and because it’s also being listened to by millions of others. There’s something in the universal that still affects us, perhaps, even connects us more.

In her fascinating encyclopedia The Book of Human Emotions, Tiffany Watt Smith describes a Japanese word ‘amae’ which means to temporarily surrender to, and be taken care of, by another.

As babies and children we are often in a state of amae; our parents or guardians (hopefully) looked after us; made us feel loved, safe, and soothed us to sleep. As adults, we have less opportunities to surrender to this blissful feeling of personal attention and mental surrender. Perhaps at a luxury spa, a hairdresser, or when we’re ill and someone brings us soup, but we don’t necessarily get these things when we feel we may need it most; alone in our bedrooms, unable to sleep or motivate ourselves for the day.

ASMR is, in essence, adults soothing each other in this way around the world. More so than an online article or a forum we can read and relate to (which is what many of us stumble upon when feeling anxious, low or in need of connection), rather, ASMR is the real life face of someone visibly taking time out of their day to make us feel loved, appreciated and like we matter.

They may be doing it for money, but as any long-term fan of ASMR knows, it’s much more than that. The stigma and ridicule ASMRtists face (many of them post about this and some keep it hidden from their family and friends) means it has to be more than that. Most often they have discovered the benefits of ASMR themselves and want to give back.

Even if we are not isolating alone, a stranger reassuring us that everything will be okay, might be more beneficial than say, your partner, mum or sibling doing the same. Families come under strain in constant close proximity and we are forced to see the good, bad and the ugly when quarantining in close quarters for 24 hours a day. An ASMRtist in Sweden who ‘plucks’ away your anxiety for 15 minutes might be just what you need.

Of course there are many tools we can turn to for combating loneliness during lockdown: online yoga, crafting classes, “nostalgia workouts” or cook-alongs; as a society we’ve perhaps never been more creative in trying to keep each other healthy and happy.

ASMR might be something you could add to your toolkit.

But even if you decide ASMR is not for you, its popularity projects a resounding message of our time: many of us are lacking connection and compassion in our lives. The sobering reality is that ASMR might even offer us what many have never had in the first place — a human being who shows us affection, solidarity and support in our most difficult times. And while we try to find that in our real lives, like most things, we can turn to the internet to fill that void in the meantime.