It’s interesting how often an insatiable appetite for new coping skills is accompanied by an underlying dissatisfaction with the ones currently on offer. In some ways this is to be expected. If the skills used thus far have provided little to no relief, it only makes sense to keep looking for new ones. The same goes for other tools under the mental health umbrella, whether it’s coping skills, treatment models, frames, affirmations, rituals, exercises, or self-care activities.¹ These tools are eagerly acquired and just as quickly discarded if they prove ineffective, and so the search continues. 

There are a variety of reasons why a given skill or approach might not work. Some are mismatched to the individual or to the circumstance, or are poorly implemented, or aren’t used with enough consistency across time to bear fruit. Some simply don’t resonate. And, unfortunately, some conditions are resistant to nearly every form of treatment. I’d like to focus on an additional reason that has less to do with the tools themselves and more to do with our expectations about what they can accomplish.

Clients will commonly report a dip in mood or a spike in anxiety and are unable to identify what caused it. They dutifully used a coping skill that didn’t offer much help, which then made them frustrated on top of feeling depressed or anxious. After a bit of unpacking we might discover patterns, such as poor sleep, heavy substance use, or some other pillar of health which is out of alignment and which likely contributed to the shift in mood. These are important realizations because they reveal base layer problems of which the effects are often too severe to be resolved by tools alone. For there is no guided meditation that can compensate for chronic burnout, no cognitive reframe that can offset the consequences of an abusive relationship, and no amount of acceptance that can repair the damage of sleep deprivation. These are powerful tools but their powers are limited, and sometimes we expect too much from them. We use them to spot treat symptoms that stem from deeper lifestyle issues and fail to realize that the remedy is ill-equipped for the ailment, like a bandaid on a broken limb, and it usually leads to more aggravation.

Improving basic lifestyle hygiene is pivotal to well-being and makes therapeutic tools more likely to be effective.² One challenge, though, is that addressing lifestyle hygiene is less novel than finding new tools. Tools are shinier objects whose discovery elicits intrigue and excitement, which is hard to compete with. It’s only natural that we’re driven more toward solutions that pique our interest than those we find dull and laborious. That drive, however, is worth reflecting on because our appetite for novelty might itself be compromising another key facet of mental wellness. Namely, the psychological space we need to process our experiences. It might not come to mind as one of the usual pillars of health, but there are good reasons to count it among them and to nourish it accordingly.

Nowadays it seems that many activities and the micro-moments between them involve ingesting some form of content, digital or otherwise. The intake valve is permanently open. But if nearly every moment is one of ingestion, when do we have space for digestion? I fear that the space for psychological digestion, for absorbing and synthesizing our experiences, is steadily disappearing and not without a cost. For it is clear that most things suffer if they are packed too full—stomachs, suitcases, schedules—yet we treat our minds as if they are immune to this fate. The frequency with which people report feeling oversaturated by the endless ingestion of content (even when it’s desirable content) suggests that the mind is no exception and that it too requires reasonable limitations to function effectively. But those limitations are often lacking, which results in our consumption outpacing our ability to process.

This condition, this cognitive bloat that many of us feel, is subtler than the delirium of a sleepless night but palpable nonetheless. And like the other aspects of lifestyle hygiene, it is worth recognizing it as a pillar whose misalignment affects our mental health and limits the efficacy of the tools we use to manage it. As for solutions, I am as much in the dark as anyone else, clumsily feeling my way around toward better habits. My unscientific intuition is that we would benefit from frequent content breaks more than rare detoxes, and from periodically allowing routine activities—commutes, chores, meals, walks—to be done without watching, reading, or listening to anything apart from the features of the immediate environment. Not always. But perhaps often enough to trust that we can weather the initial threat of boredom and learn to let our minds stretch and fill the space. To marinate, metabolize, draw connections, to wonder, and to do so without immediately seeking an external answer. To chew our food a little before taking another bite.

Therapy is one way to pause and digest, but there can and should be many others. These moments need not all be spent in deep introspection. For it is just as important to live moments of lightness and carefree mind wandering. Indeed, there is a broad spectrum of cognitive nutrients available to us. The challenge is to safeguard opportunities to absorb them. If we can do that, along with nourishing the other core aspects of well-being, we might give our tools a fighting chance.

Notes

1. Medications and other treatments could have been included on this list, but I’ve chosen to focus this essay on behavioral approaches.

2. I recognize that it isn’t always possible to improve basic lifestyle habits. While many people can and are encouraged by their progress, many others don’t feel ready or aren’t in a position to address certain issues, and providers would do well to meet them where they’re at and not shame them into compliance. Additionally, it’s important to acknowledge that addressing basic lifestyle hygiene isn’t the only requirement for good mental health. On the contrary, plenty of people have the basics dialed in and still need additional treatment.