The absolute state of things
During the covid pandemic, I developed a terrible habit of scouring every news story and tweet available for The Answer.
I was searching for a wise adult voice to come along and tell me when the lockdown would end, when I’d get vaccinated and ideally the exact end date of the pandemic. I simply couldn’t accept that events were so out of control that no one had definitive responses to these questions, that the actual answer to all these huge, life-altering questions was simply “we’ll see” (AKA my mum’s favourite way of saying “no" when I was little).
Obviously everyone was completely thrown by covid, but the other certified control freaks out there will understand where I’m coming from. Personally, I struggle with the level of uncertainty created by a delayed train, or my favourite spin instructor going on holiday, so the pandemic was definitely a stretch. And when I did go in search of answers to try and regain a sense of control, every article I consumed contained endless speculation, worrying predictions and the same statistics rehashed endlessly.
In the quest to find news that would suppress my anxiety, I made myself far more anxious. Embroiled in an endless spiral of reading that made my heart and head jittery but left no satisfying pay-off, I doomscrolled like mad for much of the pandemic – and I’m doing it again now.
The cost of living crisis, climate change, war in Ukraine, arguments over migration, Brexit, a government that can’t seem to get its act together… I’m finding the state of things right now a bit f***ing much, and I’m sure you are too.
Whenever I read the news, I end up feeling panicky. But I can’t just switch off from it entirely, partly because being up to date on current affairs is sort of necessary for a journalist, and partly because if I read nothing, I’ll worry about what I don’t know.
I spoke to a therapist about this once, and she told me that there are two camps of people: those who decide they don’t want to engage at all and basically block out all the negative news, and those who want to know everything. So what to do if you’re a reluctant, stressed out member of the latter camp like me?
Some practical tips I’ve learnt: firstly, don’t overdo it. Yes I need to follow the news for work, but not obsessively. I’ve stopped the BBC Breaking News notifications on my phone because they were constantly poking at my anxiety. I’ve unsubscribed to various political podcasts because they’re so unrelentingly negative they only stoke the fires of panic further. I no longer read the newspaper on my phone the minute I wake up, and instead wait until I’m commuting or eating breakfast, so at least my brain has an hour just to bumble around merrily before it gets a horrible morning shock.
I’ve decided the main remedy, however, is comedy. Even Alastair Campbell said this the other day on The Rest is Politics (another podcast I’m having to limit because it is deeply depressing) – that being able to laugh about things is the best way to cope with a desperate situation. So my main therapy has taken the form of watching The Office (US) every night before bed – I’ve never watched it before and it has 201 episodes! – plus listening to podcasts that focus on the silly side of life: Off Menu, Trusty Hogs, Adam Buxton and Parenting Hell are among my favourites. I’ve been reading funny books by by Nina Stibbe, David Sedaris and Meg Mason. And I’ve been immersing myself in live comedy – recent gigs I’ve loved include Helen Bauer, Ed Gamble, Chloe Petts and Tim Key.
The Answer to all my worries may not be out there, but there are lots of great punchlines, and they definitely help ease the load.