Information Poisoning: Knowing Is Killing Our Mental Health, But It Doesn't Have To

Growing up, I was taught that knowledge was power.
Lately, I’m beginning to believe differently.
On many days, I think it’s hazardous.
Right now, knowing is actually part of the problem.

We’re all suffering from information poisoning.

The more we know about what’s really happening in this country: the depths of our fractures, the audacity of our leaders, and the failing of our systems the greater our sense of despair can become.

Our noble efforts to stay informed are locking us into an emotional state of fight, flight, or freeze that isn’t helpful or sustainable; our sober situational awareness is destroying our mental health.

I confess to envying people who, by nature or by choice, don’t have a clue what’s going on: people who’ve opted out of knowing anymore. They don’t read the news; they’ve checked out of social media, and they avoid or refuse to believe any information that conflicts with the story they tell themselves of everything being fine.

I know that attempting to live inside such a heavily redacted reality is an irresponsible act of privilege, but they seem so happy in their blissful bubble of not-knowing. They rarely feel the dread I experience on a regular basis. They don’t lose a minute of sleep worrying about the stuff that keeps me up at night. They’re never visited by the grief that feels like such a constant companion here in my heart.

Some days, I want to be like them; care-free, weightless, and fully unburdened because of all they choose not to know, but that’s how we got here. This current national disaster is the byproduct of millions of people who’ve spent a decade refusing facts or data or truth when those things carried discomfort. The sedatives of denial and distraction do nothing to change the truth. They don’t make us any safer. They don’t decrease the peril our nation is in. They don’t help any of the people who are in danger right now—which is all of them… all of us.

The only way through this historic, catastrophic shit show is to face and confront reality, as ugly and disheartening as it is, and try to change that reality, alongside people who also care deeply because they too understand how sideways it’s all gone.

Too much exposure to the scale and velocity of the suffering, and we’ll eventually sink beneath it, physically or emotionally breaking down; too little exposure, and we end up complicit in the damage.

The challenge is to live somewhere safely between a constant, complete immersion in the terrors that will surely overwhelm us and completely checking out to avoid the reality of how jacked up everything is. With the relentless sensory media flood around us, we need the discipline and restraint to know the difference between awareness and self-harm.

I don’t want to know how bad it is anymore, but I do.
I don’t want to grieve the horrible reality anymore, but I do.
I don’t want to care anymore, but I do.
This may not feel at all good, but it is still a good thing.

Some things that may help you stay in balance:
- Limit daily media exposure, setting time constraints and certain times of day, and stick to them.
- Spend some time each day in silence, nature, rest, exercise, and in community to offset the heavy information you're absorbing.
- Try to mark off time first thing in the morning and just before bed so you can begin and end the day grounded and centered on the agency you always have.
- When taking in the news, continually ask yourself: what of this is mine to carry and what can I and should I let go of?

Knowledge of the urgency of our situation may indeed be a hazard, but it is still one of the most powerful weapons we have in the fight to stay human in inhumane times. Right now, knowing what’s happening will help us know who we want to be in the middle of it.

Be encouraged today.

What strategies are you using to be selective in the way you take in information and care for your mental health in the process? Let me know in the comments.