I'm Drowning, Not Waving
Thoughts on things to do when life feels like too much.
Dear Queer Abby,
I’m feeling completely overwhelmed by everything right now. Between the political climate that seems to get more hostile by the day, my family refusing to accept me since I came out, and the emotional rollercoaster of a divorce I didn’t see coming, I’m barely keeping my head above water. On top of that, I’m trying to find a new job in a market that feels unforgiving, especially for someone like me who doesn’t fit the “corporate mold.”
I wake up exhausted, go to bed anxious, and feel like I’m constantly failing at just being a functional adult. I keep hearing that things will get better, but when? And how? I don’t need everything to be perfect—I just want to feel like I can breathe again. How do I push through when everything feels so heavy?
Drowning in Dunedin
Dear friend,
Just about five years ago “Jack and Jill Time” was the highlight of my day. It was just me and a glass of Jack Daniel’s Honey Whiskey over ice. I told myself that this nightly routine wasn’t a big deal. It was just one glass…every night…and I would have fought you like a rabid honey badger if you tried to take it away. At this point in my life I was working hard to convince myself that I was good and holding it all together. I wasn’t.
I want to thank you for writing. I know how hard it is to ask for help when you’re already running on empty. You are not failing at being a functional adult—you are surviving under extraordinary pressure. I see you. I feel the weight you’re carrying. And I want you to know there is a way through this, even if the light feels dim right now.
Let’s start with the obvious: you’re dealing with a lot. Divorce alone can feel like a full-time job in grief. Add in job hunting (also a full-time job), family rejection (ouch, every time), and the political landscape (which makes the everyday dumpster fire seem delightful by comparison), and no wonder you feel like you’re drowning. You are not weak for feeling overwhelmed—you’re human.
But here’s the heart of what I want to say to you: you don’t need to fix everything at once to start feeling better. It took a long time for this perfectionist to learn that healing doesn’t demand perfection. It just asks that you keep showing up.
1. Your body is not optional
When everything feels like a crisis, our nervous system stays in fight-or-flight or elevates to freeze. And guess what? You can’t think your way out of chronic stress. You have to regulate first. The good news is that there are things we can do that costs zero dollars and is accessible/available to most people. Breathing is one of them.
Research from Stanford and Harvard shows that even two minutes of slow, deliberate breathing can reduce cortisol (stress hormone) levels. Need ideas? Plenty of YouTube videos available on breath work and mindfulness techniques.
I personally love the 15 minute Stress Release Ziva Meditation from Emily Fletcher via Mindvalley. For months I would pop on her YouTube video before my feet even hit the floor in the morning. It was a game-changer for me.
2. Control the inputs you can.
We’re living in a time where doomscrolling is practically a Junior Varsity sport. But here’s the deal: your brain wasn’t meant to carry every headline and every tragedy at once. That much trauma with no release valve leads to burnout, numbness, or both.
Limit your news intake to once a day from a reputable source. I subscribe to Ground News to see what is coming through from the left, right, and center. You may also wish to mute or unfollow people who drain you, even if they’re well-meaning. Boundaries are especially important in these times.
I like to image that every word I say or hear is like a prayer, spell, or wish for me. With that perspective, I become much more selective about the media I consume and the people I surround myself with. I now seek out queer joy, hopeful stories, and people who inspire me with their strength, compassion, or creativity. Words matter. Surround yourself with good ones whenever possible.
3. If you could control your definition of divorce, what would it be?
There’s this myth that ending a marriage means something went terribly wrong. But sometimes, the bravest, healthiest thing we can do is release something that no longer fits. You each deserve to give and receive love fully, and sometimes divorce is the only way to grant that to each of you.
Let yourself grieve the loss, yes. But also, give yourself permission to feel relief or possibility or even excitement—if and when it comes. You didn’t fail. You evolved. And that evolution might be painful, but it’s also powerful.
4. Some reject you. Others are inspired by you.
For me, coming out felt like being a walking open wound. Rejection from those around me only seemed to cut deeper. Here’s what I can offer: your chosen family can be just as sacred, and often a lot less conditional. Seek out community wherever you can find it—support groups, local LGBTQ+ centers, online forums, meetups. Find people who light you up, hold space for you, or at least share some of their snacks.
Research consistently shows that connection is a key factor in resilience. You don’t have to do this alone. There are people out there who will love you just as you are, with no terms and conditions. And your courage to live as you were so beautifully created to be, inspires others to live the same (whether they ever let you know or not).
5. Tiny joys are big deals.
When life feels overwhelming, big-picture dreams can feel out of reach. So for now, anchor yourself in small, daily joys. One of the best exercises I ever did during my life low was the Three C’s from Rachel Stone: COMFORT, COMMUNITY, and CONTROL (described more in my book). Long story short… take a page and write a full list of everything that brings you COMFORT.
My list included things like a hot mug of coffee or tea, my fuzzy robe, rubbing my own feet, hugs from my kids, talking to my best friends, writing in my journal, listening to a an audiobook, and eating cheese. Most of these things were easy to do and cost little to no money. Rachel encouraged me to pick at least three things from my list and make them part of my day each day. Intentionally creating moments of comfort and making myself a priority brought me more joy than I could have ever realized.
Researcher Dr. Laurie Santos at Yale teaches a course on happiness (the most popular class in the university’s history), and her findings are clear: it’s not the grand achievements that make us feel better. It’s the small, consistent doses of positive emotion and connection.
So what now?
You keep breathing. You keep asking for help. You celebrate every time you get out of bed, make a phone call, or remind yourself that you’re worth showing up for. Even if it’s not good now, maintain hope that it will get better and the vision of what you want that “better” to be. You are not alone in this and you’ve got a whole community cheering you on from the virtual bleachers.
With so much love,
