Living in America today feels like having a mental illness. Here’s how to protect your sanity.

Inside our minds

For example, the fear that disaster is always looming is a common experience for people with anxiety or depression. But pandemics, hurricanes, floods, wildfires, war, terroristic plots, and mass shootings make up our weekly news—not to mention the inauguration of a modern fascist (and his pet oligarchs). Nowadays, a chronic internal panic feels justified.

Patients like me can also struggle with intrusive, irrational thoughts. And now, the real-life news cycle mirrors this feeling. Within an hour of any major event, propaganda and disinformation metastasize, spinning paranoid narratives of blame, bigotry, and exploitation that overtake sensible statements and fact-based reporting. The tempest of uncertainty is no longer just in our own mind; it’s on every screen.

Every week is a new national crisis (whether it’s genuine or just a critical mass of pundits whipping themselves into a frenzy). Like stormy waves, one outrage follows the next, breaking over us as another one swells, never letting us get back on our feet. This is how bipolar episodes can feel.

Without treatment, crushing sadness or hopelessness with no sense of the future is one of the worst aspects of my illness. And now, America’s most powerful leaders are promising to rob millions of us of our futures: people who need healthcare, affordable food and housing, humane immigration policies, and dignity under the law regardless of gender. Deep desperation and grief are a reasonable response to this.

Here’s how to fight back: stability and control, thoughts and values

But we can’t fight the MAGA regime if we can’t tame our own feelings. A calm, clear mind powers sustainable action. People with mental illness know a lot about fighting for clarity and focus against terrible stress and pain. If I can build a decent mental bulwark as MAGA seizes federal power a second time, I bet you can do it, too. Here’s my advice.

Tend to your own stability. Even if you’re not living with mental illness, you might be surprised by how beneficial a good routine is. When the world seems like it’s falling apart, it can feel selfish or useless to focus on your own habits. But you must prioritize your own stability in the cruelty and chaos of the coming years. Whether or not you’re working (or working from home), give some structure to your days that includes time outdoors, meals and snacks, relaxation, and some exercise, if you can do it. And then don’t lose sleep because you’re doom-scrolling or following distressing news. You can’t stop bad things from happening. But I promise you can cope with them better and fight back more effectively from a place of internal stability.

Take charge of what goes into your brain. When I notice my symptoms rising, one of my first steps to stabilize is a break from social media, usually for a period of a few days, but sometimes for weeks or months if needed.

It’s not that social media itself is bad; it’s just impossible to control what comes across the feed. Looking at a world full of disasters and disinformation and scammy ads, even if it’s mixed up with cool recipes and my friends’ dogs, is not going to help me feel better—especially as the companies running the joint throw fact-checking and content moderation on the MAGA bonfire. I can get my news directly from vetted sources (here are my tips for managing your news intake) and stay in communication with loved ones by phone or text. If I am not feeling resilient, I do not need the rest of what social media offers.

Choose media that is comforting and stabilizing. For me, that means re-reading favorite books, rewatching a good TV show, or finding movies based on books I like. I also (unsurprisingly) find attending live arts events both calming and invigorating: theater, concerts, screenings, lectures, museums, and galleries help me feel more optimistic and connected.

Monitor and steer your own thoughts. This one is a foundation of cognitive behavioral therapy and its newer, more practical cousin, dialectical behavior therapy. I’m a veteran of both, but it took me a helluva long time to accept the principle that if we manage our thoughts, we can manage our feelings.

When I think about Trump and his venal cronies (for example), I feel sad, helpless, and angry. And that’s great for them, because then I’m too miserable to fight them. So I think about the organizers, mutual-aid campaigns, human-rights lawyers, protestors, artists and writers refusing to back down. I think about what soup I’m going to make this weekend, or my next crochet project, or how to pitch my book. I think about whale-watching or my toddler niblings.

I feel better.

The better I feel, the more I can do. And speaking of action…

Know your values and act on them. Take time to develop and articulate what matters to you. Then find ways to stick to your beliefs. In the coming weeks and months, an onslaught of rhetoric, policy, laws, and rulings targeting women, journalists, immigrants, and trans people (to name a few vulnerable groups) will intensify. If you value healthcare access, a free press, a pluralistic society, or gender justice, will you do nothing? Take regular action, however small, to support your cause.

Watching cruel, incompetent people take the reins of power feels horrible. But knowing that you have surrendered your own values by failing to act feels even worse. If a daily routine brings physical and mental stability, sticking to your own values brings emotional and moral (or spiritual) stability. You’ll feel better, which helps you keep fighting for a world where others can find some relief, too.

We at BSR will continue to act on our values. A disability justice lens—in this case, taking tools for managing mental illness and applying them to surviving the MAGA era—benefits everyone, disabled or not. We at BSR hope that being part of our community will help you face the years ahead.