Put Boundaries on Being Informed for Your Mental Health!

Somewhere along the way, “stay informed” got twisted into “consume everything, no matter the cost.” I reject that.

There’s always one more click, one more detail, one more reason to keep scrolling. I understand the pull. I’ve felt it.

When it comes to the Epstein files, I stay informed. I take in what I need to advocate for truth and justice. I do not need to read every grotesque detail to prove I care.

Meanwhile, I stand in awe of every person—member of Congress, journalist, and legal professional—who has taken on the unsavory work of reviewing records and materials that reflect the worst of humanity. That work matters. And you have my full support.

⸻

I am not a lawyer, not a DA.
I do not serve in Congress today.
No badge, no bench, no oath to keep,
No case files stacked that steal my sleep.

And so I will not read them, no.
Those dreadful files—I will not go.

“Just read,” you say, “you need to know.”
But tell me, friend—how far must we go?

I know enough to understand
The harm, the horror, cold and planned.
I know enough to feel the weight
Of cruelty dressed as power and fate.

I do not need each twisted line
Carved sharply in this mind of mine.
Some truths don’t fade. They take up space.
They echo, looping, face to face.

Not on a train, not on a screen,
Not filling gaps in the in-between.
Not out of rage, not out of dread,
I choose what lives inside my head.

There are those whose work demands
They sift through ash with steady hands.
Let justice call them. Let them see.
That burden does not fall to me.

I’ll speak, I’ll act, I’ll understand.
I’ll take my place. I’ll make my stand.
But I refuse to pay the cost
Of peace of mind so quickly lost.

So keep your files. I’ve made my plan.
I know enough. I see the sum.
I choose what I will not become.
Not haunted, hollowed, or just numb.
I will not read them. I am done.