Creating a TikTok a day keeps the anxiety at bay

I first started making TikToks when I started feeling a tickle in my throat two weeks ago.

At a friend's insistence, I downloaded the app back in January, but didn't start feeding the algorithm with my attention until I randomly tried to look up a TikTok I'd seen on Tumblr (yes, I'm still on Tumblr). I scrolled past the celebrities in favor of random teens making hilarious and intricate videos, especially ones about coronavirus — the sound effects, the editing, the visual and voice distortions, the nihilism! I wanted to try making my own. Just to see what the tools are like, I told myself.

I had a sore throat for a few days and was already working from home. I made the first TikTok on a whim about the Inevitable Man at Q&As who has "more of a comment than a question" and posted it to Instagram and Twitter. (My TikTok profile is private and I have zero desire to become TikTok famous.) Friends found it funny, so the next day I made one about the impending doom of COVID-19 coming to the States: the lack of accurate testing, the lack of social safety net, and the unforgiving work culture. Sometimes you just need some dark humor to get you through dark times.

my contribution to the coronavirus tiktoks pic.twitter.com/wEyIRrjvac

— Nicole Zhu (@nicolelzhu) March 11, 2020

I lost my sense of smell that Friday. I made a TikTok on Sunday about what my focaccia sees in the oven while I baked bread like half of my socially distanced friends, though I couldn't taste any of the garlic butter I'd slathered the loaf with (tragic). On Sunday night, I started to feel feverish. I saw a doctor virtually the next day and was told I wasn't eligible to get tested. After panic-crying for the third time, I made a TikTok expressing that exact frustration — and the fact I'm not a famous basketball player or anyone famous enough to not be in a high-risk group and get tested. I remained isolated alone in my apartment for the next week, listening to the doctor's orders via telemedicine, and watching and making TikToks was a weird but effective distraction.

when the focaccia recipe says the first rise takes 8-24 hours... but then you realize you have all the time in the world so you make some focaccia 🤷🏻‍♀️ pic.twitter.com/HC6phcq2cQ

— Nicole Zhu (@nicolelzhu) March 15, 2020

It's been awhile since I've learned to use a completely new social media app. I underestimated how fun it would be to spend just a few minutes every day focused on making something creative but not King Lear-level serious. I'd brainstorm some scenarios that would be fun to film (coronavirus-related and not), remix the audio of TikToks I'd seen or record my own, and scribble a basic script or outline on a Post-It. In my total seclusion, no one could see how many times I re-recorded each part of a 15-second TikTok or how many different angles, effects, backgrounds, and gestures I tried out. But focusing on syncing my acting with the audio was much better than fixating on whether or not I had COVID-19 or wondering if I'd suffer more serious complications.

It also felt good to make people laugh even when I was anxious and panicking.

So if you're looking for something fun and creative to do while quarantined, might I suggest joining TikTok? Use the Whirlpool effect on your beloved pet, record yourself cooking, digitally insert yourself into a crowd while remaining socially distanced, inhabit different characters and wardrobes, or rope your family or roommates into the fun. It might be the perfect amount of chaotic creativity we all need right now.