This Is Not Normal
You already know something is wrong. You've known for a while. The news cycle confirms it daily: climate collapse accelerating past every guardrail, genocide broadcast live to your phone, a ruling class whose corruption is now documented rather than speculated, an economic system that concentrates wealth while hollowing out the capacity of everyone else to respond. You scroll through it. You feel the weight of it. Someone tells you to take a break from the news. Someone tells you to practice gratitude.
This is not normal.
I don't mean it as a slogan. I mean it as a diagnostic statement. The conditions we are living under are not within the range of what a human system (biological, social, political, ecological) can sustain. We are not in a rough patch. We are not going through a cycle. The word experts use is polycrisis: multiple global emergencies unfolding simultaneously, each compounding the others, each drawing on the same pool of response capacity. Climate. Biosphere collapse. Democratic erosion. Economic inequality. Geopolitical instability. The accelerating development of AI systems whose own creators describe the trajectory as "alarming." That last word is not mine. It is Anthropic's, published in the system card for a model they considered too dangerous to release to the public.
When everything is on fire at once, the system's reserves get eaten. There is no slack left to absorb the next shock. The patient's organ systems are failing across the chart. The physician's honest conversation at this stage is not "change and you'll thrive." It is: "we can extend, we can make comfortable, we probably cannot reverse. How do you want to spend the time?"
That is not fatalism. It is precision.
The myth
Gabor Maté, the physician and author of The Myth of Normal, makes a clinical argument that maps onto the systemic one. What we call depression, he says, is not a biological malfunction. It is the organism pushing itself down: emotions, ambitions, dreams, authentic self. All suppressed for the sake of survival in an environment that punishes authenticity. What we call anxiety is not a disorder. It is pattern recognition. The body registering that the environment is hostile and the threats are real.
If you are anxious about the state of the world, you are not sick. You are paying attention.
Maté's point about disillusionment lands here. Would you rather be illusioned or disillusioned? The people who see clearly are the ones who can inform the world about what is actually going on. Disillusionment is not a breakdown. It is an upgrade. It is the moment you stop mistaking "normal" for "healthy."
The word "normal" is doing extraordinary work right now. It is being used to describe conditions that no previous generation of humans has been asked to tolerate as baseline. A 25-year-old in Britain or Ireland today has lived through a global pandemic, accelerated climate change, a cost-of-living crisis, several financial crashes, a crashed job market, austerity, the live-streamed destruction of Gaza. Then they are told they lack resilience. They are told they are the fragile generation. They are told to try therapy, try mindfulness, try journaling.
This is not normal.
The people telling you to calm down are not neutral observers. They are participants in a system that needs your compliance. The Peterson-Shapiro school of "toughen up, stop talking about feelings, victimhood culture is the real problem" is not psychology. It is ideology. Its function is to pathologise the accurate perception of threat. If you can be convinced that your distress is a personal failing rather than a rational response to an insane environment, you stop asking questions about the environment. You turn inward. You medicate. You consume. You comply.
Maté again: the system fosters emotional pain in people, then sells them products to soothe their pain temporarily. That is not a conspiracy theory. That is the documented business model of the food industry, the pharmaceutical industry, the attention economy. The addiction is the feature, not the bug.
The frequency
I was trained as an aircraft mechanic. Engines and airframes. The ethic of that trade is simple: there is no breakdown lane at thirty thousand feet. Either the person responsible did the work correctly or people die. No partial ownership. No "good enough for now." No delegation of the final check to a process that is not yet verified.
I carried that ethic into everything else I've done without knowing I was doing it. I built websites, investigated systemic failures, joined a political branch, raised two neurodivergent children, maintained half a dozen projects in parallel. An authority figure asked me recently if I worked too much. I had to try to explain that I run at a different frequency.
This is the part I didn't understand until recently. I was diagnosed autistic four years ago. The ADHD diagnosis came a few months back. Until then I spent decades being told the things I was seeing were not really there. That my pattern recognition was paranoia. That my work rate was pathological. That my inability to look away from systemic failure was a deficiency rather than a capability.
I didn't know I had an advantage.
The AuDHD brain does not have the filter that lets other people categorise incoming signals as "not my problem." You see the whole field. You see which beacons are flashing. You cannot choose to look away. That is not a disorder. It is a cognitive signature that happens to be poorly suited to a system that requires you not to notice what is happening.
This is not normal. Your perception that it is not normal is not a disorder either.
The exhaust
I write for Overwatch Report because I have to. Not because I chose investigative journalism as a career path. Because the cognition produces output that has to go somewhere or it poisons the engine. Writing is the exhaust pipe. Naming what is happening is how I metabolise the fact that it is happening.
Maté calls this a sane response. I would go further. It is the only response available to a cognitive engine that cannot stop processing the inputs. The alternative is to push it all down, which is what the system asks you to do, which is what produces the depression and the anxiety and the autoimmune conditions and the addictions.
The system benefits from your silence. The system benefits from your compliance. The system benefits from your medicated calm. Every time someone says "take a break from the news" or "protect your peace" or "you can't change anything so why torture yourself," they are offering you a sedative, not a solution. The sedative is sometimes necessary. It is never sufficient.
The response set
I am not going to tell you what to do. I do not have a programme. I am not selling anything. What I can offer is the frame I have arrived at after five decades of running at a frequency I did not know was uncommon, followed by two diagnoses that gave me permission to call the frequency what it is.
The honest response set, when the system has no slack left, is not "fix everything." That response is largely performative at this point. The response set that still carries weight looks like this:
Talk to your kids about what they are seeing online. Not once. Regularly. They are processing the same polycrisis you are, with fewer years of context and less control over their own lives. Be the person who tells them their perception is accurate, not the person who tells them not to worry.
Know your neighbours. Not performatively. Actually know them. Know who is elderly, who lives alone, who would not cope if the power went out for a week. That knowledge is infrastructure. It costs nothing and it is the thing that holds when the formal systems do not.
Grow something. Even a window box. Food that you grew yourself is food that did not pass through a supply chain that can be disrupted. It is also a relationship with a living system that is not mediated by a screen.
Learn a skill that does not require electricity. Bake bread. Mend clothes. Dress a wound. Sharpen a blade. These are not hobbies. They are the baseline competencies that three generations of outsourcing have trained out of us. Every one of them is a small vote against dependency on systems you do not control.
Support local journalism. Not this publication specifically. Any publication that names what is happening in your area without answering to an advertising department or a billionaire owner. When local journalism dies, local corruption becomes invisible. That is not a coincidence.
Refuse to share content you have not verified. Refuse to amplify outrage that has been engineered for engagement rather than accuracy. The attention economy runs on your clicks. Every one you withhold is a small act of non-compliance.
These are not grand gestures. They are not going to reverse the polycrisis. They are the things that remain possible at human scale when the larger systems have stopped being trustworthy. They are how people who have accepted the condition choose to spend the time.
If you are reading this and you recognise the pattern, if the beacons are flashing for you too, if you have been told you are too much or too intense or too anxious or too angry: you are not broken. The system is broken. Your perception of that fact is the most valuable thing you have.
Do not let them medicate it away from you. Do not let them therapise it into silence. Do not let them tell you that your pattern recognition is a pathology.
This is not normal. You are right. Hold on to that.