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RIO DE JANEIRO (AP) -- Floyd Mayweather Jr. dropped in to see the next generation of Olympic boxers in Rio.The U.S. bronze medalist at the 1996 Atlanta Games stood on a platform at Riocentro Pavilion 6 to watch Saturday evenings fights, starting with the welterweight quarterfinals. He stuck around through a major heavyweight semifinal and a first-round knockout by Britain super heavyweight Joe Joyce.It was good to show him what I can do, Joyce said.Mayweather was besieged by a stream of autograph-seekers and photo-takers, even with most of the U.S. mens basketball team, including Kevin Durant, Carmelo Anthony and DeMarcus Cousins, sitting a few rows behind him.Mayweather is a boxing promoter of sorts after his retirement, and he could have been scouting talent for his company. Saturdays card included several pro prospects from around the world, but no Americans.The 39-year-old Mayweather retired last year after a 49-0 career. 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I stare at my phone.That sentence sounds like it could be the first in a movie script or in an exciting story Im about to tell. (Potential next sentence: An urgent text message appears.)But thats not how I mean those words. Instead, I mean them as an identifying characteristic, a sentence that describes me: I work for ESPN; I play basketball; I love good coffee; I stare at my phone.Now see what I mean? Its a response to the question, So what do you like to do? How do you spend your time?Its also an admission and an embarrassingly accurate description of my nearly constant state. See me on the subway platform, head down, oblivious; or on my couch, attempting to read a book, but stopping every paragraph to refresh Twitter; or at dinner, asking a friend to repeat herself because I was reading an email; or at my desk, convincing myself Ill write after reading one more news article.Or right now, writing this, fighting the urge to Google some random factoid -- any random factoid -- to avoid the discomfort that comes with actually thinking, with actually being -- with creating instead of just absorbing. Theres long been a link between absorbing and creating (first comes one, then the other), but these days, Im rarely doing the other. Im like a sponge that never gets wrung out.The bottom line: Im concerned about the future of my brain. Im also concerned about other peoples brains -- including, potentially, yours.Theres no news hook that exists, nor one reason why readers should care about this right now, staking this storys rightful place in the news cycle. These thoughts exist not because of the news, but in spite of it. Im writing this because I need to. Its all I think about. Which means that, maybe, other people have also thought it -- even if the thought is buried beneath the rubble of text and Twitter and the endless stream of headlines.***I have long struggled with anxiety, but its usually only attached to work -- specifically to doing TV or speaking in public. Anxiety has never just buzzed inside me all day long. Usually, if a steady and persistent thought swims in my mind, I know I must sit down and write. Writing helps me process emotion. Whenever I felt confused or like I had something to say, I knew I could work through the feeling using just pen and paper.For me, deep thinking feels like going for a run. Its a kind of detox.But lately, Im feeling clumsy. The good thoughts feel farther and farther away, and if I do manage to grab one, its slippery and impossible to hold.My view used to seem expansive. Now it feels claustrophobic.And now Im feeling like I can no longer control my anxiety. Its become my companion. Perhaps the scariest part is that this endless scrolling distracts me from the anxiety, even as it feeds it.Consider the cyccle: When Im lonely and anxious, instead of sitting with the feeling, trying to process it, I launch my phone in hopes of dulling the sensation.dddddddddddd And it works -- temporarily. But Ive done nothing to cure the underlying loneliness and anxiety. So, an hour later, or a day later, the feeling will come back stronger. And how will I fix it that next time? And the time after that?I think we both know the answer.This cycle is an addiction masked as productivity, as connecting. When I was playing basketball at the University of Colorado in 2000, I didnt yet have a cell phone. And during my first year on campus, I had a reckoning of sorts: I wanted to quit and give up my scholarship. Did I even love basketball? Why was I unhappy? These thoughts swirled in my mind, without distraction, every day as I walked across campus.When I think back on that year, Im thankful that I was forced to sit in my uneasiness, process it and come out the other side, clear-eyed and committed. When muddled emotions or feelings of loss arise now, I do everything but sit with the feeling. I wonder what this kind of confusion must feel like for younger people today, who have answers at their fingertips, but perhaps not solutions.Personally, I have no excuse for letting it get this bad. The year after we published Split Image,?a story about the suicide of a student-athlete, I immersed myself in understanding how technology and social media affects us -- I actually wrote a book for Little, Brown about Madison Holleran and young people and rising rates of anxiety and depression. Its called What Made Maddy Run, and its coming out in August 2017. Heres a snippet from the books manuscript:I wrote that a year ago -- an entire year ago! While I would never spend a year drinking Mountain Dew, then puzzle at why my fitness had deteriorated, here I am, spending most days staring at my phone, reading each click-bait article and wishing I could have my brain back, wishing I could sit down and write and think the way I used to, with a kind of clarity and stamina I took for granted.The solution is obvious: spend less time on my phone. The thought of that feels promising and clear, like driving with the top down. And, simultaneously, the thought is scary. I want to hang out where everyone else is hanging out.And it seems like everyone else is in my phone.But, then again -- are they? And what version of them -- of each other -- are we getting?This is the part where Im supposed to share my detox program. Or offer my hard-won solution, followed by encouraging advice. But I dont have one. Not yet, anyway.Truth is, writing this essay was as far as I got. ' ' '