Monday, January 10, 2011

Balancing Public Awareness with Media Over-Exposure

Limiting my exposure to media is one of the ways I support my resiliency – and a key ingredient in my ability to stay present to the pain of those I serve.

Yesterday, I found myself horrified and saddened when learning about the violent rampage in Arizona yesterday where Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords was shot. The Congresswoman was participating in a “Congress on Your Corner” event, at a Safeway grocery store in the community she represented. Six people were killed, including a nine-year old child. A total of twenty people were shot in the senseless assault, all victims of a young 22-year old man with a history of problems.

I’d had a full day yesterday, including an enjoyable road trip with my husband. We’d been away from the radio or television for hours, so it wasn’t until I was checking friends’ Facebook posts later in the evening that I first caught wind of the news. I noticed my impulse to go online and learn everything I could about what happened. What had happened? Where did it happen? Who did this? Why? 

Reading, in reverse order, the chronology of news reports as they had funneled in, I gained a basic picture of the “what” of the day’s events, but the “why” remained, for the most part, foggy speculation. As best as anyone can figure, the man who plotted to kill Giffords was angry, and he convinced himself he had identified a target for his rage.  Reviewing the news reports, I found myself incredulous, questioning why someone would kill another human being. Could someone really believe violence was the solution for a difference of opinion? Is this a world where people believe killing innocent citizens and a nine-year old child is justified to “make a point”? I just sat there, shaking my head, stunned, sad.  

This internal searching, this predisposition to ask questions of “Why?” and “How?” may be a positive attribute in my work as a counselor, but when it comes to distressing events in the news, I've learned that it can also become a liability. Curiosity can drive us to vicarious trauma through media over-exposure if we are not cautious.  Generally, being informed about major news stories can be useful - if only to provide a bridge to clients and colleagues whose thoughts may be influenced by the recent sad events. However, I have learned over time to pause and assess when enough media on a particular story really is, enough. 

I think I learned this most poignantly after the tragedies on September 11th. The news media covered the day’s events around the clock for days and weeks – and information and interviews continued to be in the foreground for many months beyond that. I knew too many people who became so engrossed in watching these stories unfold that they disconnected from their lives and loved ones – becoming unable to listen empathically to the stories and hearts of those around them. I witnessed some parents whose own obsession with viewing the day’s unfolding details unwittingly harmed their children, as the children were exposed to graphic images of violence that haunted them for a long time thereafter. Some colleagues became so consumed by the media stories, the questions being asked, and the heartache flooding the airwaves that they lost their ability to be present emotionally with the everyday hurts our clients expressed.  As for me, I did watch the news for the first few days after September 11th . . . and then I stopped.  I knew that if I allowed myself to watch too much, I could become flooded by images and emotions, vicariously traumatized, and rendered useless in my work. Instead of disconnecting from those around me, I unplugged from the media. I limited my exposure and remained open to clients, friends, and family.  I trusted that I knew enough about what had happened – and could let the rest go.

Last night, I read the news online for a while and then made a conscious choice to turn off my computer.  I was struck by the tragedy in Arizona, yet I knew it was in my own best interest to discontinue my searching and reading, to unplug from the media for a while and regain my own center. I chose to brew a cup of tea, read my Spirituality and Health magazine (a favorite), and begin to unwind for the day.  I am so glad I did.  It feels good to listen to and trust what is right for me.

Being human, I can still feel the tug of a compelling “why” from time to time. It helps me to pause, to take a deep breath, and to accept that some things happen that defy comprehension. It also helps to refocus my attention on the love and goodness in my life and the work I do each day to make a positive difference in the world.  

4 comments:

  1. Elizabeth, thank you so much for this post. I am so saddened by what happened. The drive to uncover "why" is so compelling to my mind and yet such a futile endeavor. I think this is especially so in today's media environment. There are so many news sources, and in the rush to break the story they risk being inaccurate (NPR reported that she had died). And yet my mind still wants to know, and often thinks that by searching hard enough on the internet I will uncover the "truth." So much better to set that aside and light a candle for everyone touched by this tragedy.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Thank you so much for your comment, Jen. I love the idea to light a candle in remembrance and solidarity. The world needs peace, and it helps me to remember that peace begins with me.

    ReplyDelete
  3. elizabeth, just discovered your terrific blog. i run new directions support group of abington for folks w/depression and bipolar disorder. i wrote an immediate blog post about the tucson tragedy and i also called the intelligencer newspaper and got permission to write a guest column saying that the tragedy gives everyone with a mental illness a bad rap furthering the stigma that keeps people from seeking help. (how's that for a run-on sentence)

    ReplyDelete
  4. I'm so glad to learn that you are out there, writing, educating, informing the public about mental illnesses. Thanks for your comments.

    ReplyDelete