Surviving the Flood

How to moderate media consumption to protect your mental health.

3 cars almost fully submerged underwater in a flood.

I don’t know about you, but I am spiraling into over-consumption of news media.

I know it is toxic for my mental health.

I know it doesn’t help anyone else.

I know it won’t change what’s going on.

But I can’t look away.

Sound familiar?

Why do we do this? Saturating ourselves in frightening news is often a subconscious attempt to make ourselves feel safe. When the world feels frightening and chaotic, information can feel like a safety net. It gives us an illusion of control.

If there’s a wild beast on my property, I want to know where it is.

It’s so hard to look away.

And we can feel guilty for looking away, too. We worry that if we’re not hanging on every word written, viewing every opinion shared on TikTok or reels, watching every press conference on television – an unending stream of input – perhaps we don’t truly care. Perhaps we’re too stuck in privilege and we’ve separated ourselves from those at greater risk. Perhaps (a guilty fear) we’re part of the problem, too.

And yet those of us reading and consuming endlessly are also struck with a sense of futility and helplessness. Even as we feel guilty looking away, we know this consumption is not helping. Not us, and not anyone else.

What it’s really doing is:

  • Putting us on edge
  • Making us irritable
  • Leading to friction with our families
  • Making us less present in our lives and with our loved ones
  • Diminishing and degrading our sleep
  • Impacting our health, such as blood pressure and function of our immune system
  • Causing anxiety, fear, feelings of helplessness, foreboding, and dread
  • Pushing away friends who don’t want to talk about it all the time
  • Magnifying threat assessment by dwelling on what-ifs rather than what is

So what do we do?

I’m not advocating putting your head in the sand, though at times I feel resentful of the truth in the maxim that ignorance is bliss. Wouldn’t it be lovely to be unaware, to be unaffected. And yet, then you wouldn’t be you. The deeply caring and compassionate person who, perhaps, may become primed for action through knowledge. A person who may resist, who may hold, who may make this frightening world a lighter and brighter and safer place for someone else. No, we cannot look away.

But we can moderate the flow.

I presently make my home in Southern California, where in more years than not we have endured blistering drought. By Fall, the ground is brown and nothing grows in the stifling heat and unremitting dryness under skies that have not graced our land with water in six, seven, even eight months. Then fires burn through brittle hillsides, and finally with winter, rain comes. In torrents. As Albert Hammond sang in 1972, It never rains in Southern California / But girl don’t they warn ya? / It pours, man it pours. The rain comes all at once, washing away the naked hillsides where tree roots once held the land, causing devastating landslides that dump mansions into the sea.

Water is good. We need it. We want it. We wait thirstily for it.

But not all at once.

I used to live in Vancouver, British Columbia. There, it never seemed to stop raining. In the brief moments when the sun comes out, everyone drops what they are doing and rushes outdoors to soak in the sun, for a mental lift and some much-needed vitamin D.

Once, while exploring Bergen, Norway, a marching band came through the market area where we were buying food. When I asked a local what they were celebrating, he laughed and said, “Just that the sun is out!” I’m not sure I fully believe this response, but it speaks to the point:

Water is good – but there can be too much of a good thing.

Information is like that.

It’s not good to choose ignorance. But neither is it good to surrender to terror.

So set an intention for media consumption. First, what is your purpose? Is it to be informed, to guide action, or to find outrage nuggets to share with others? Knowing your purpose can help guide your activity.

Consider the amount of time necessary to meet your objective. Can you become informed of the day’s musktastrophies and trumpsasters in 30 minutes? In one hour? How long does it take to gather the numbers of the current measles or covid epidemic?

Determine the ideal timing for news and social media consumption. How immediately do you need the latest information? If you catch up over lunch, how essential is it that you know after work what has transpired since? Can you let it go until tomorrow? Will you let yourself?

Reflect on the impact on your other priorities of the timing and length of time you sacrifice to media. If you dive into headlines and social media as soon as you wake up, you let others set the tone for your day. If you check just one last time right before bed, you subject your sleep quality to the whims of what you might find. Be mindful and intentional in selecting when, how, and where you will stay informed.

And finally, choose your sources wisely. Ask yourself whether your source tends to intentionally stoke fear and outrage, or present the facts and leave your emotional response to you. Yes, much of what is coming out of the White House is disastrous for human rights of all kinds, and outrage is so often an appropriate response, but some media is more likely to distort, bend, and exaggerate details to stoke the sort of fear or anger that keeps you hooked. Divest from this in exchange for trusted voices, or at least keep your radar for influence tuned. And supplement your diet of news with sources of upbeat developments, because they are happening, too. It’s so easy to lose sight.

Drink pure water.

Consume in moderation.

And don’t live only on water.

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