Constant exposure to distressing news can affect our mental health. Learn why global events can create collective trauma and how to protect your wellbeing.

In our fast-paced world, many of us find ourselves living on autopilot, going through the motions without truly engaging in life. We might get to the end of the week and barely remember what we did. We were there but not there.

While not a formal diagnostic label, high-functioning anxiety describes a very real experience": feeling persistently anxious while still performing well in daily life.

And because you’re “coping”, it often goes unnoticed (by others, and sometimes to you).

This sense of disconnection can be unsettling, especially when you can’t quite explain what’s wrong. On the surface, things may look fine. You’re functioning, You’re coping. But internally, something feels distant or muted.

If you’ve ever wondered “Why does my anxiety get worse at night?”, you’re not imagining it, and you’re certainly not alone. There are clear psychological and biological reasons this happens.

For many young adults, climate change isn’t an abstract future problem. It’s a constant background presence. It shows up in news alerts, social media feeds, conversations about housing, family, finances, and the future. For some, it brings a steady hum of unease. For others, it becomes overwhelming.

“Quiet Quitting” is often framed as a lack of motivation or commitment at work. A sign that people no longer care. A generational problem. A productivity issue.

But psychology tells a different story.

Scrolling through social media can feel strangely destabilising. one minute you’re relaxed, the next you’re comparing your life, body, career, parenting, productivity or relationships to people you barely know… and somehow coming up short.

If you’ve tried therapy before and walked away thinking “It didn’t really work for me”, you’re not alone. Many people stop therapy early, feel unsure whether it’s worth going back, or quietly wonder whether therapy just isn’t for them.

Loneliness isn’t always about being physically alone.

You can have friends, a partner, a busy social life, and still feel strangely disconnected. Detached. Unseen.

Lonely in a way you can’t quite explain.

You replay conversations long after they end.

You analyse what you said, what they said, what they might have meant.

You run through every possible outcome, scenario, or consequence, even when nothing is actually wrong.

There’s a kind of struggle that doesn’t look like struggle from the outside.

You get through the day. You show up. You’re functioning.

But inside, there’s… nothing.

You know the feeling.

You’re going about your day; making coffee, commuting, replying to emails, when suddenly your chest feels tight, your stomach drops, or your mind jolts into worry mode.

So much of what we do, think, feel, and say happens on autopilot.

We react, justify, or withdraw without quite knowing why. Then later, we wonder; “Why do I keep doing this?”

That question, the noticing in itself, is where awareness begins.

We often hear advice like “You just need to move on” or “Just let it go.”

It’s well-meaning, but it misses something essential: healing isn’t about erasing the past, it’s about making peace with it.

Some of what we carry isn’t ours.

The anxiety, the guilt, the urge to keep everyone happy - they can all be echoes of the generations before us.

Many of us can look perfectly fine on the outside - we get up, go to work, keep friendships ticking over, even laugh and plan holidays.

Have you ever wondered why you feel secure in some relationships but anxious or distant in others? Or why the same relationship patterns seem to repeat, no matter how hard you try to change them?

The answer may lie in attachment theory.

Many people believe therapy is only for those in crisis - a last resort when life feels unbearable. But just like you wouldn’t wait until your teeth are falling out to see a dentist, you don’t need to wait until you “can’t cope” to look after your mental health.

Not all childhood wounds are visible. While physical abuse or neglect often leaves obvious scars, emotional neglect is quieter, subtler - and often invisible to everyone, including the person who experienced it.

Yet its impact can last a lifetime, shaping how we see ourselves, how we relate to others, and how we care for our own needs.