What Do We Do With All of This?

Photo by tom coe on Unsplash

WTF.

That’s just what I keep saying.

What. The. Fuck.

I assume that most of my readership is left-leaning. I don’t know that for sure, but let’s say for the sake of argument that most of you are. If you live in America, and you’ve been watching this all go down, I know what you are feeling. Anxiety, dread, rage, hopelessness. We have been here before. In fact, we’ve been in this place for nearly a decade. And we are all tired. So very tired.

Here in America, this week-long hell ride started with the debate and ended with the Supreme Court effectively giving Trump immunity from prosecution (and, just as importantly, future presidents. Because things can get worse!). It has been demoralizing, terrifying, and infuriating.

My primary emotion at the moment is rage. I am still angry about 2016, and for anyone who asks me how long I will be angry about 2016, my answer is UNTIL THE DAY I DIE. I saw people gloating yesterday (imagine gloating about your country becoming a dictatorship) and telling us we shouldn’t vote because it doesn’t matter.

Voting matters. It’s one of the only things we can do as citizens that actually does matter. We may have ended up here eventually anyway, but it would have been very nice to have a competent person in the White House when COVID happened, and even nicer to make sure the Court was protected from the blatant fascism that the Republican Party decided was their platform. At the very least, women would not be going septic because they won’t operate on an ectopic pregnancy and 10 year old rape victims wouldn’t be forced to give birth. I think that alone would have swell.

I do not understand the attitude that we just throw the baby out with the bathwater. That’s a way of thinking that my practical brain just cannot handle. A long time ago, my Weight Watchers leader (don’t judge you all had one) gave a terrific piece of advice - “if you fall halfway down the stairs, would you just throw yourself the rest of the way down?”. Granted, she was talking about having a salad the day after a nachos and margarita binge, but it stuck with me. No one will ever make me think that’s a viable plan.

What the fuck do we do with this? The incredulity, the rage, the horror, the helplessness. The bonds we have broken, the trust that has disintegrated, the families not speaking to one another. Social media didn’t start the fire, but it throws accelerant on it. So what the fuck do I do? What do any of us do?

I don’t know.

I know I am not a radical or a revolutionary. I would like to be that person but I’m not. When people talk about violent insurrection or rioting in the streets, I am not your gal. I know this about myself. Some would argue that comes from privilege, and sure, there is that. I like things like indoor plumbing and air conditioning. I’m not a violent person, and while it’s true I have never experienced the levels of injustice that many people have, that doesn’t mean I have not experienced hardship. Or adversity. It just means that I know my nature and how I react in certain situations. I am brave in many ways, but there are ways I am not brave. I fear that the ways I can be useful in this situation will eventually not apply at all.

What I do know is that giving up isn’t an option. Somehow I got out of bed this morning, and will tomorrow morning, like I did for the past eight years. I will figure out how to fight, in whatever small ways that I can. I will take care of my mind and body as best as I can. I will show up for the people I love. And you bet your ass I’ll be writing about it.

Hang in there. I won’t say we’re going to be okay, because I don’t know. But I’m holding space here for anyone who wants to vent. Feel free to do so in the comments (and please, for the love of god, be kind).