Distortion of Reality

# Distortion of Reality There is a fundamental human urge in us to create order. We want to understand, explain, and put things into categories. When life becomes confusing, this urge grows stronger. A simple explanation can feel like a lifeline: finally a concept to hold on to, finally a cause to point to, finally some kind of closure. The problem is that life rarely allows itself to be closed off that way. Many of the biggest challenges we face — anxiety, restlessness, emptiness, relationship conflicts, concentration problems, low mood — are complex phenomena that arise at the intersection of biology, experiences, life circumstances, relationships, habits, values, and meaning. When we try to make this simple, we risk distorting reality to make it fit into a system that feels manageable here and now. That can provide immediate emotional relief, but in the long run it often weakens our life competence. Living as much as possible in accordance with realities — as they actually are — is not just a philosophical project. It is also a practical necessity if we are to solve problems. As long as we describe our challenges with language that misses the mark, our interventions will quickly be misdirected. ## Simple explanations as emotional painkillers A simple explanation does more than create order. It can also soothe discomfort. Some explanations absolve us of responsibility: 'This is just how I am', 'It's the diagnosis', 'It's my brain', 'It's the others', 'It's society'. Other explanations create a sense of control: 'If I just get the right treatment/medication, it will sort itself out'. The common denominator is that they can function as a form of psychological painkiller — they remove some of the existential unease that arises when life is unclear, ambivalent, and demanding. That does not mean diagnoses are 'wrong' or 'nonsense'. Diagnoses can be useful, especially when they provide access to help, give language to a suffering, or help someone understand patterns in themselves. But diagnoses can also become an answer that comes too early. Then they can function as a story we rest in, rather than a hypothesis we investigate. A diagnosis can be a description of symptoms — not necessarily an explanation of why the symptoms arose, or what they are trying to tell us. And if we treat the description as if it were the explanation, we may miss the most important thing: the context. ## Symptoms as messengers — a Kierkegaardian contrast Let's take a concrete example. You wake in the night with cold sweats, heart palpitations, and nerves on edge. In today's vocabulary it's natural to think panic disorder. Many go to their GP hoping for medication or investigation. That may in some cases be right, and it can be important to rule out somatic causes. At the same time there is something about this modern reflex that often becomes too narrow: we meet an existential signal with a technical answer. If you had lived in the mid-19th century and asked Søren Kierkegaard for advice, the response could have been radically different. In a Kierkegaardian understanding, anxiety is not just a symptom to be removed; it can be an expression of the human relation to freedom, responsibility, and inner conflict. Anxiety becomes a sign that the soul must be examined. It forces us — almost like a 'serving spirit' — to look inward. This perspective is not about romanticizing suffering or saying that 'anxiety is good'. It is about taking seriously that symptoms often have a function: they point to something. Maybe you have lived for a long time in compromise with your values. Maybe you have shut down important feelings to function. Maybe you have deprioritized close relationships so that loneliness and disconnection slowly build. Maybe you are in a life situation you deep down know is wrong, but you cannot bear the consequences of changing it. Then the body — and the psyche — may begin to shout louder. In that light the symptom is an invitation to understand yourself, not proof that 'there is something wrong with you' in the sense of a defect. ## Diagnoses, medication, and the culture's need for quick fixes We live in a culture that often insists on quick fixes. This applies to everything from technological problems to human problems. Mental health care is part of this culture, and can sometimes — not always, but sometimes — be pulled toward standardization, categorization, and symptom reduction at the expense of meaning and context. Medication can be helpful and at times necessary. But there is also a risk that medication becomes an answer to questions we have not finished asking. If your anxiety is about a life that has gone off course, sedatives may not give you what you truly need. They can dampen the signal while making it easier to continue as before. Then you may lose the opportunity the symptom is actually trying to give you: the chance to confront what is true. The same applies to depressive states. Sometimes medication can help a person out of a low so that therapy, movement, sleep, and relationships become possible. But sometimes medication becomes a substitute for the changes that could actually make a big difference: physical activity, social contact, structure, meaningful projects, and mental training. The painful point is this: many of the most effective measures are also the most demanding. They require effort, time, tolerance for discomfort, and willingness to reorganize life. ## Attention as a skill — not just a neurological fate One area where simplifications often take over is attention. In our time attention problems are easily understood primarily as a neurological challenge, almost as a fixed 'thing' a person has. But attention is also a skill. A capacity that can be trained, weakened, strengthened — and affected by lifestyle. Sleep, stress levels, screen time, physical activity, diet, breaks, monotasking versus multitasking, and not least emotional load: all of this shapes attention. If you live with constant inner restlessness, it's no wonder concentration suffers. If you constantly reward your brain with small dopamine hits through rapid stimuli, it's also no wonder that slow immersion becomes harder. The point is not to deny biological differences or to moralize. The point is that we do ourselves a disservice if we reduce attention to a 'system error' and overlook that it is also training, habits, and environment. Taking attention seriously as a skill often means working with: - structure in daily life - reduction of distractions - physical movement - mental training (for example mindful awareness or concentration exercises) - emotional regulation When we work this way, we build not only symptom relief, but competence. ## Conspiracy theories as meaning under uncertainty Distortions of reality do not only happen in relation to our own symptoms. They also happen in the face of society's complexity. Conspiracy theories are a clear example of how people try to create meaning when the world feels confusing and threatening. When uncertainty grows, it can be psychologically more satisfying to believe that 'someone is in control' — even if control is attributed to a sinister actor — than to live with the fact that much is actually chaotic, complex, and partly random. Conspiracy narratives offer: - a simple causal explanation - a clear enemy - a feeling of having seen 'the truth' - identity and belonging At an individual level this can reduce unease and provide direction. At a societal level it can be dangerous. It can weaken critical thinking, increase polarization, and make us worse at cooperating on real problems. For if we describe reality wrongly, our solutions will also be wrong. There is a kinship here with the more 'everyday' simplifications we make about ourselves: we seek explanations that satisfy an inner need, not necessarily explanations that are true. ## Emotions in relationships: distortions that arise between us A dysfunctional relationship to one's own emotions can create distorted relationships. If I cannot tolerate my own vulnerability, I may begin to interpret others' distance as rejection, and respond with criticism or coldness. If I cannot tolerate my own guilt, I may shift responsibility onto others and become moralizing. If I cannot tolerate my fear of being abandoned, I may control or cling — and at the same time tell myself that 'others always let me down'. Thus my feelings become not just something I have inside me, but a filter I see the world through. And if I do not know it is a filter, I believe what I see is reality. Therefore it is crucial to understand emotions in context: how they were formed, what they protect us from, and which experiences shaped them. Upbringing, past relationships, loss, trauma, shame experiences, and learned strategies for handling pain — all of this embeds itself in the way we interpret others. In psychological language we can say that we use defense mechanisms. They are often creative and entirely necessary when we are small or in pressured situations. But in adult life they can become habits that keep us stuck. Working with this is not about becoming perfect. It's about being able to tolerate more of ourselves so we don't need to distort others. ## Responsibility without self-reproach One of the most demanding, but also most liberating shifts a person can make, is to distinguish between responsibility and blame. Taking responsibility means: 'These are my feelings, my patterns, my choices — and I can influence them.' Taking blame often means: 'I am wrong, I am broken, I deserve punishment.' Simple explanations can sometimes protect us from guilt, but they can also deprive us of responsibility. And without responsibility we lose the ability to act. That's why I care that we shouldn't settle for explanations that only provide calm in the moment. We need explanations that give direction for life. ## Holistic measures that are often underestimated When faced with psychological suffering we often overlook the basics. Not because they are unimportant, but because they are not 'sexy', not dramatic, and rarely give immediate effect. Yet these very areas can be crucial: - **Physical activity:** The body is not just a transport for the brain; it is part of the psyche. Movement affects stress response, sleep, mood, and anxiety levels. - **Social interaction:** Humans regulate their nervous system in contact with others. Isolation often amplifies symptoms. - **Mental training:** The ability to notice thoughts and feelings without being sucked into them can be trained. It's about creating a small space between impulse and action. - **Lifestyle and rhythm:** Sleep, structure, and breaks are not 'bonuses'. They are foundational. None of these measures are magical. But together they can do something that is hard to achieve with a simple explanation: they build capacity. ## Life's meaning rarely tolerates a quick fix There are problems that cannot be solved with a simple technique, a diagnosis, or a pill. Not because we are hopeless, but because human life is profound. Meaning often does not arise by removing all that hurts, but by standing in what is difficult — without falling apart, without escaping into explanations that only numb. That does not mean we should cultivate pain. It means we should bear to meet reality with an open gaze. Some feelings are not signs that you are doing something wrong. They can be signs that you live a life that matters. Anxiety can be a signal that something is at stake. Grief can be proof of love. Guilt can be an invitation to repair. Emptiness can be a message that something in life lacks nourishment. This is not romanticizing. It is psychological realism. ## Seeing reality more honestly Distortion of reality is fundamentally about the fact that we all — to a greater or lesser degree — try to make life easier than it is. That is human. But it is also limiting. If you notice that you repeatedly land in explanations that give you instant relief, it may be worth asking: - Does this explanation only give me calm, or does it also give direction? - Which parts of my life become invisible if I hold on to this story? - What are my symptoms trying to signal? - What responsibility do I have — without meaning that everything is my fault? - What would a more holistic understanding of my situation involve? Living in accordance with realities does not mean becoming hard or cynical. It means becoming more precise. More honest. More whole. And it is precisely in that wholeness that lasting solutions are often found: not as a single answer, but as a gradual build-up of insight, skills, relationships, and the courage to stand in what is true. --- **Would you like to dive deeper into this topic?** This is a topic psychologist Sondre Risholm Liverød talks more about in the podcast episode of the same name. You can find the episode as part of the exercise materials at [BeBalanced.ai](https://bebalanced.ai).