The Cost of Knowing: How Staying Informed is Killing Our Mental Health

Photo by Vasilis Caravitis on Unsplash

Growing up, I was taught that knowledge was power.

I used to agree.

Now, I'm beginning to believe differently.

Now, I think it's a pain in the ass.

Right now, knowing is actually the problem.

I woke up this morning, hopped online, and in a few seconds became nauseous as I felt a fresh wave of disastrous updates pummel my nervous system: nightmare Cabinet picks, coming Constitutional crises, possible imminent financial collapses.

I noticed my blood pressure rising and I felt the adrenaline welling up in me as my mind began to receive and organize and process all the bad news.

I’m guessing you recognize this phenomenon, that there is something familiar in your experience these days, as well.

I think responsible people of empathy are suffering from information-poisoning right now.

The more we know about what's really happening in this country; the depths of our fractures, the audacity of our leaders, the disregard for our systems by the incoming Administration, the sheer volume of the legislative atrocities on the horizon—the less hopeful we can become.

The more we read the posts and absorb the hateful diatribes of people we know and love, and really fathom how much contempt they have for people of color and foreigners and LGBTQ people—the more resentful of them we grow and the less we desire to be in their presence.

The more we learn about the toxic racism, misogyny, and nationalism of an American Church many of us once felt so much a part of—the more we grieve that we'll never again feel at home in the religion of our childhoods; that we are spiritual orphans now.

We can even begin to resent those who work so hard to make sure that we and others know what's going on in this country. The volume and velocity of the bad news they provide is so tremendous, that at some point it seems like piling on. It all begins to feel like an unintentional act of aggression; friendly fire unleashed in the chaos of the battle. It isn't their fault, but even their sincere and valiant efforts to disseminate information often feel themselves like assaults our sanity.

Our efforts to stay informed are locking us into a fight, flight, or freeze emotional state that is neither helpful nor sustainable.

Our political awareness is affecting our mental health.

I confess to envying ignorant people; those 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, they avoid or refuse to believe any information that feels depressing or frightening or contrary to the story they tell themselves.

I realize this is surely evidence of their privilege; that it is a luxury not everyone has, and I know it's irresponsible as a citizen and a person of faith—but damn, they seem so happy in their blissful bubble of not-knowing.

But, I am jealous of these people.

They rarely feel the dread I experience on a regular basis. They don't spend a moment 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.

And I want to be like them; care-free, weightless, and fully unburdened because of all they choose not to know—but I realize that's how we got here; that this current national disaster is the yield of millions of people who refused facts or data or truth. I know that the answer now in undoing this damage, isn't adding to the pool of ignorance.

I know that the only way through this historic, catastrophic shitshow, is facing and confronting reality; as ugly and disheartening as it is and trying to change that reality, alongside people who also care deeply because they too understand how sideways it all is.

I know that the solution in these terrible days, isn't to shy away from the bad news or to soft-sell it to others, but to welcome and amplify it. That data, even though it feels painful, contains the healing too. It is the antidote to the sickness we're fighting off. There is harm in disinformation, misinformation—and in lack of information.

If there's a way forward, it isn't in knowing less, and so I'll keep reading and learning, while trying to be wise in how and when I absorb the news so I can minimize how much turmoil it creates within me. We all need to selectively expose ourselves to media, having the discipline and restraint to know the difference between awareness and self-harm. There are ways to to be blissful without being ignorant, and we all need to seek that balance.

The challenging part, will be convincing those joyfully unaware right now, to allow real life to inconvenience them enough to care too; to let true information disrupt their carefully curated happiness.

Knowledge may indeed be a pain in the ass but it is still one of the most powerful weapons we have in the fight to stay human in inhumane times.

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 I know it is a good thing.

Right now, knowing what’s happening will help us know who we will be in the middle of it.

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.