Lately, I’ve been hearing the same theme from people across the spectrum: different ages, different politics, different life stories:

“I feel like I’m failing.”
“I don’t recognize myself anymore.”
“I’m exhausted.”
“I’m angry, and I don’t even know who I’m angry at.”

As a mental health provider, I want to say this clearly and compassionately: What you’re doing to get through this moment is not evidence of dysfunction. It’s evidence of resilience.

When people live under prolonged stress, financial strain, political instability, cultural conflict, constant crisis messaging, their nervous systems adapt. We cope. Sometimes that looks healthy. Sometimes it looks messy. But it is still an attempt to survive.

The danger right now is not that we’re struggling. The danger is that we’re being taught, subtly and constantly, to believe the struggle is our fault.

How We Turn on Each Other Without Realizing It

When people are under sustained pressure, one of the most common responses is to look for someone to blame. Often, that blame turns inward (“I should be doing better”) or sideways (“people like them are the problem”).

This is how communities fracture. Not because people are bad, but because they are tired, scared, and overwhelmed.

We argue with neighbors. We snap at loved ones. We retreat into camps and labels. And while we’re doing that, the conditions that created the strain continue untouched.

This isn’t accidental.

When people are busy fighting each other, they’re not asking deeper questions about why life feels so precarious, so unsafe, so exhausting.

About Safety — Especially the Kind You Can’t See

For most people I work with, the core issue right now isn’t laziness, weakness, or lack of motivation. It’s safety.

Not always physical safety, though for some, it absolutely is, but psychological safety.

Feeling safe enough to rest.
Safe enough to plan.
Safe enough to trust that effort will lead somewhere.
Safe enough to imagine a future that isn’t just “getting through tomorrow.”

Many of us don’t feel that anymore. And you cannot heal, grow, or thrive in a state of chronic unsafety.

Before we can fix anything — personally or collectively — we have to be honest about that.

Coping Is Not the Same as Giving Up

There’s a lot of shame right now around coping behaviors. People judge themselves for:

Eating more.
Drinking more.
Exercising less.
Feeling numb.
Feeling angry.
Feeling checked out.

I want to reframe this gently: Coping is what humans do when the load exceeds their capacity. That doesn’t mean all coping strategies are sustainable or healthy long-term. But it does mean they make sense in context.

The work now is not to punish ourselves — it’s to strengthen ourselves, without denial and without self-destruction.

Because this is not a short crisis.

This Will Not Be Fixed Quickly — So We Have to Survive it Well

One of the hardest truths is this: Whatever is happening in our country did not happen overnight, and it will not be repaired overnight.

That means we can’t burn out our bodies, our minds, or our relationships while we wait for things to change.

You matter too much for that.

If you think of it like the oxygen mask on an airplane, you cannot help anyone else if you’re depleted, unwell, or barely hanging on. Taking care of yourself is not selfish. It’s strategic.

And yes, personal well-being and social responsibility are connected.

Rebuilding Strength (without Shame)

Many of us are starting from behind. Compared to even a decade ago:

Addictions are more entrenched.
Bodies are more stressed.
Movement has dropped out of daily life.
Food is more processed, more expensive, and less nourishing.
People are simply tired.

This isn’t a moral failure. It’s the predictable outcome of decades of pressure, scarcity, and stress layered on top of one another.

But we can begin to rebuild. Not by chasing perfection. Not by “keeping up.”
Not by trying to win some invisible race.

By paring down.
By sharing.
By choosing strength over excess.
By supporting one another instead of competing.

We don’t all need all the things. And trying to live that way is breaking us.

Start Small. Start Now. Start with Yourself.

You don’t have to do everything.
You don’t have to fix the world.
You don’t have to become someone else.

You just have to find one thing.

One habit that strengthens your body.
One boundary that protects your energy.
One connection that reminds you you’re not alone.
One action that aligns with your values instead of your fear.

And start there.

Because when enough people begin caring for themselves — truly, sustainably — they become harder to manipulate, harder to divide, and harder to exhaust.

That matters. YOU matter.

We Are Not Broken — We Are Coping