Battling for sanity in an information war

Inspired by the theme of The Jewish Independent’s podcast Ashamed to Admit, I have a confession to make. I’m ashamed to admit I’ve been unable to put my phone down for the last eight months.

Propelled by October 7, my phone addiction has become severe and out of hand.

It wails for me like a newborn through the night. It follows me into the shower where I now wear wireless earphones while listening to podcasts. I’m trapped in an audio maelstrom of political debate, public opinion and seething outrage.

Physically I’m in Perth but mentally I’m thousands of kilometres away, drowning in a tsunami of distress. Permanently distracted. Deeply disturbed. My phone never leaves my side.

I’m writing this at 5:21am, wired and restless. For eight months I’ve woken at odd hours in a panic, reaching for my phone, desperate to know what fresh hell has been unleashed overnight. I think of tunnels, bombs and carnage, bodies charred, desecrated and buried under rubble. The obscene scale of destruction, depravity, destitution and desperation. Of too many lives cut short and forever changed.

Unread books gather dust by my bedside. I haven’t watched Netflix in months, have barely touched my novel manuscript. I’ve kept up with my work and family responsibilities, just. But I’ve been completely consumed by the nightmare that began on October 7, watching on in disbelief as a conflict raging far away ricochets into our homes, schools, universities, workplaces and parliaments. Spills out onto our streets, tearing everything that once held us together apart.

I’m attached to my phone for hours, deeply absorbed in newsfeeds, podcasts and longer form journalism. It’s become a compulsive and obsessive habit. Why? Because of my heritage, I’ve always considered Israel a home away from home, a safe haven if ever needed. And, because the longer the war in Gaza rages on, the closer the conflict comes to my actual home.