Coping With Injustice and Helplessness on the Mat

I’m just going to be 100% honest with this post, dear fellow yogis: I am not in a good headspace of late. Dark times have come to my country, and quite frankly, I’m terrified. A million reassurances from my partner can’t convince me that I’m okay. He hasn’t always been with me, and while he’s had horrific experiences beyond my imagination, he hasn’t ever experienced what underlies my fear. 

My unshakable anxiety these days stems not only from the injustice I see occurring all around me. It arises from being utterly powerless to do anything about it. Without my partner’s help, I would not be safe from what’s happening. All I can do is watch the news in mute horror as people like me are overpowered, bound, silenced, shoved into vans, separated from everyone and everything that they have ever known, all the while knowing that, but for a few fortunate strokes of fate, it could be me. 

I won’t lie — the desire to drink my dark thoughts away has been a constant companion these past weeks and months. I can’t help but think that society at large does want people like me to disappear, so maybe that’s what I should do, comfortably, on my own terms. Drinking always made masking my autism easy. While it’s true I hurt those closest to me when I drank, society at large seemed to like me better. More importantly, I felt better able to cope with the harshness surrounding me. While alcohol increases impulsivity, it also provides what feels like courage, no matter how brief, fleeting, and false that feeling may be. I so desperately want to feel safe again, and the bottle seems like the fastest, most direct route. 

I haven’t caved to temptation thus far, but I’d be lying if I said it hasn’t been hard. I can’t even lie and pretend that my interventions are the best ones because I’m very much teetering on the edge. However, I haven’t gone over it yet, and these are some of the thoughts that have, at least thus far, kept me from falling. 

Time Passes, and Change Happens 

We as humans have as short a view of the totality of time as we do of the Universe. Much of what has happened in the past is as mysterious to us as the future. Our knowledge of history, especially before the written word, is pieced together from artifacts whose meaning remains open to interpretation, and scientists can be wrong, just like anyone else. 

It’s natural to be frightened of uncertainty. However, when you’re scared anyway, the unknown can, ironically, become your best friend. Why? Even when it looks like the worst is bound to happen, there’s no guarantee it will happen. If it does happen, there’s no guarantee that the changes wrought will last forever. 

Bad experiences leave scars, scars that have a long echo. I think that they perpetuate far longer than a single lifetime, which is why we should be careful and mindful of what we do so that we don’t establish systems and patterns that lead to ongoing suffering. 

However, should negative systems and patterns arise, holding on to the thought that they won’t last forever is a comforting thought. After all, people once so steadfastly believed the sun was the center of the Universe, they condemned Galileo for heresy, even though his teachings still form much of the underpinnings of our modern understanding of physics. 

“This, too, shall pass” isn’t the most comforting thought, especially if current events reopen old traumas for you like they have for me. However, it’s still somewhat helpful to hold onto the perspective that things will, eventually, change. 

Furthermore, what you do in the interim will influence what happens to your future. So protect yourself, be wise — but try to hold on to hope for a brighter tomorrow. In the immortal words of Tolkien: 

“But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer.” 

Cherish Your “Sam” 

Every epic story seems to have a “Sam,” a character who is unfailingly good, unfailingly positive, and unfailingly loyal. They’re a powerful reminder that the power of connection, friendship, and love are what have always seen humans through dark times. Despite a lot of narcissistic bluster about “self-made men,” human beings are a social species, one in which men and women have long worked together to not only survive in the world without claws or fangs but to thrive in it. 

This kind of connection has been very hard for me to find, and much of that is my own doing. Because of my physical health issues and the reality of triage, my mental health, although abysmal, has been a backburner concern, and I wasn’t diagnosed with autism until I was 52. I have been masking my entire life, but that’s not even the worst part. The fake persona I created? I modeled it after a person who wasn’t mentally healthy, whose absolute, dictatorial, “my way or the highway” persona pushed people away. And while I went to great lengths to avoid ever abusing a child as I was abused, I hurt plenty of other adults. I also abused alcohol, which made me even more of an impulsive, unpredictable powder keg — not the sort of person healthy folks want to befriend. Add that to the fact that I have all the classic autistic awkwardness when sober (I do when drunk, too, but I don’t notice it as much, even if others do), and it’s not surprising I lead a very isolated life. 

However, I have Squeeks, who has been with me the entire journey. That’s also a point of sadness. She’s 15 and diabetic, and I know full well what that means. Still, I cherish every moment with her and give thanks that I have time to pet her, even as my tears soak into her fur. 

I have my beloved partner, Bubba. Even though he can’t understand my fear, he’s patient. He’s kind. He doesn’t yell at me or shame me for having my moods. 

And I have my beloved Only in Sedona partner, Ed, who texts me every morning. Checking in with each other each morning became a habit long ago, as neither of us has the best health. However, now, I cherish each message all the more. It’s a precious lifeline to yet another someone who sees me as a human being, not as a “problem” to be eradicated. 

Should you “get involved?” That depends upon you and how safe you feel doing so. Most of us have never had a single lick of desire to think “war strategy,” but that’s unfortunately the mindset you have to follow when deciding whether to attend protests, film injustices you may witness, or get involved in politics. As for me, I opted out as soon as I discovered I’m way worse at reading most people and their motivations than I thought and far more easily manipulated. Right now, my desire to not make things worse outweighs my yen to fight, but in the past, getting involved with civic organizations has boosted my mood and overall mental health immensely. Do what you feel is right for you, right here, right now. 

Seek Solace in Solitude

While this suggestion may seem to contradict the last one, it’s actually closely related. As much as you cherish your support system, you don’t want to demand too much of them. For one, they may be wrangling with many of the same fears and anxieties you have, and it’s all too easy to follow one complaint with another until you draw each other down a swirling vortex of negativity.

Even if you avoid such a trap, it’s dangerous and unhealthy to place the responsibility for how you feel solely on someone else’s shoulders. It’s unfair to them to expect them to carry your burdens as well as their own. Plus, what will you do if something happens to you, or if they grow weary of your endless neediness and leave? 

It’s okay to go off on your own to listen to a podcast or simply wander the forest and listen to the trees. If you don’t have a wild space near you, it’s okay to create a private sanctuary. You might have to get creative — if you’re sharing space with several roommates, a bed tent (who cares if it’s made for kids) and a solid set of earphones can be invaluable. 

However, communicate your intent, especially if other people can tell you’ve been struggling. It’s not fair to others to make them worry in your absence. Practice saying, “I just need a little time alone right now to get right with my head,” a million times in the mirror, if you must, if that’s what it takes to get comfortable asserting such a boundary when you become overwhelmed with negativity you don’t want to spill all over your loved ones. 

I hesitate to say “unplug.” As toxic as social media can be, news does tend to break there first, and in this age of mistrust, relying solely on corporate-owned outlets as your lone source of information can understandably make you feel less safe, not more. However, please do take what you read on social media with a grain of salt. Research claims, and remember that even the most objective stories only tell one perspective. That perspective may or may not apply to your immediate situation. 

While it may sound new-agey, what I suggest is to take deep breaths and set both an intention and a timer when checking the news or social media. Remember, you don’t have to react to everything you see or read (I admittedly struggle with this, big time, hence the intention and timer!). There’s no law against lurking, much to the dismay of many stalking victims, but in this case, it works to your advantage. If your “need to be in the know” overpowers your fear of what you might read, perform a small calming ritual to get your head in a better space before doomscrolling. 

Remember, There Is Some Good in This World 

Near the end of his famous quote, the one that never fails to make me cry, Tolkien (through Samwise Gamgee, of course) reminds Mr. Frodo, and the reader, that there is some good in this world. And it’s worth fighting for. You, beautiful yogi, YOU, are enough. You are one of those good things. And you are worth fighting for, too, 

Whether your fight takes the form of using your voice to speak out or protecting your energy until it’s your time to shine, be kind, be loving, be good to you. The world can be harsh. But it can also be kind. The more you hold onto your sense of self, your kindness, your essential goodness, bending gracefully with changes without letting them break you, the more good, kind people there are in the world to amplify that light. Keep shining through this darkness, beautiful yogi. With much love and solidarity. ~ J.