It’s OK to say, ‘I am not fine.’ Now what?

It would be easy to blame our collective mental overload on the news alone. Turn on the TV, open your phone, scroll for thirty seconds — everywhere is the world of wars, outrage, weather catastrophes, and heartbreak, all defying any sense of normalcy. There is not much to be happy about if you measure the world only by headlines.

But today, it wasn’t a breaking news alert that pushed me over the edge.

It was a cough drop.

This virus going around has knocked everyone on their rear end — me included. And yes, the cough drop is what sent me typing.

Same price. Half the size.

Anyone else noticing this? Packaging shrinking while prices climb. Grocery bills that make you do a double take. Gas, rent, utilities, insurance — everything quietly, relentlessly asking for more. It’s not dramatic enough to make the evening news, but it’s enough to make you exhale a little heavier at the checkout line.

And it made me think maybe what so many of us are feeling isn’t just political anxiety or global fear. Maybe it’s both the perceived and real accumulation of everything.

• A 24/7 news cycle designed to keep us in a state of urgency and alarm.

• Social media that rewards outrage, comparison, and constant performance.

• Entertainment built on shock, fear, violence, and extremes — because calm doesn’t “sell.”

• Rising costs with shrinking value: food, housing, health care, education, retirement.

• Job insecurity, burnout, replacement by AI, and the pressure to produce more with less.

• Grief — personal losses layered on top of collective ones, as an entire generation of baby boomers is leaving this earth: mothers, fathers, grandparents, friends, leaders.

• Political division that has made even family gatherings feel uncomfortable.

• A culture that rarely pauses, rarely listens, and rarely asks how we’re really doing.

No wonder so many of us are walking around saying, “I’m fine,” when what we really mean is: I’m barely holding it together.

And here’s the truth we don’t say out loud often enough: all of this affects us. Our nervous systems were not built for constant threat, endless information, and relentless comparison. When our world on all levels feels unstable, our bodies react as if we are unsafe — even when we are sitting in the sanctuary of our own homes.

I am trained to understand that we are hardwired for fight, flight, or freeze. We don’t talk about the freeze response enough. I believe that is where many of us are right now.

So, when you feel exhausted for “no reason,” when your patience is thin, when you’re more emotional than usual, when you find yourself snapping, withdrawing, or numbing out — it’s not weakness. It’s being human.

Which brings us to the question behind the question:

If it’s OK to say “I am not fine” … now what?

First, we tell the truth. To ourselves. To one trusted person. We stop performing like everything is OK and start practicing honesty. “I’m not fine” is not a failure — it’s information. Find a friend or family member you can check in with once a day — short, quick, but important. Connection matters.

Second, we shrink the world back to human size. We cannot fix everything. But we can tend to something. One conversation. One walk. One creative moment. One meal shared. One act of kindness that reminds us we still belong to each other.

Third, we create boundaries around what we consume — not just food, but media, energy, and emotional overload.

Fourth, we reconnect with what is real and local: our neighbors, our communities, our work, our families, our art — the small places where we still have impact by joining a book club, having a neighborhood coffee, or volunteering at a school or hospital.

We take time to pause and do something that moves us out of our heads and into our hearts: painting, music, dance, walking in nature, playing with our pets.

Fifth, we reach out to those who work in wellness, healing, and trauma care. Wellness is no longer a luxury; it is the foundation of the bodies and souls that carry us through our lives. It may be the most important investment we ever make in our own well-being.

And finally, we practice compassion — for ourselves and for one another. Everyone is carrying more than we can see. Everyone is navigating a world that feels heavier than it used to.

“I am not fine” is not the end of the story. It is the beginning of a more honest one.

Because when we stop pretending, we can start choosing differently — how we show up, how we care for ourselves, how we care for each other, and how we build a life that feels grounded even when the world does not.

So, if today you are not fine, you are not alone.

And now what?

Now we begin — one honest breath, one small act, one human connection at a time.

Roxanne Erdahl, PCC is a professional coach, writer, and longtime community business owner in the Iowa City—Cedar Rapids corridor. She is trained in trauma-informed coaching and team and leadership development.