Trump. Again.

Trump. Again. So we've all got the news this morning, and I'm pretty sure everyone I care anything about is cycling between depressed, raging, afraid, disgusted, worried, and resigned. I just can't believe any kind of reasonable people can make this decision. I want to lash out, but where? There's not a reasonable target to do so - some of my friends are renting a rage room this evening, though. 

It's like 2016 all over again, only this time, we know what we're getting into, and choosing it. Like when my grandmother divorced her husband because he was treating her poorly, but a few years later, married him again. Purposely stepped right back into that relationship.

I want to say we survived the first round, and so we'll survive this round, too. Except that so many people didn't survive the first round. People died, and not just a few of them. Covid, of course. But also a lot of suicides, and more than a few mass shootings. And that's going to happen again. Worse, now the Orange Cult is going to be encouraged and empowered, convinced they don't have to pay the consequences for their violence. I'm worried that hate crimes are about to become common, and generally unpunished. A lot of my people will not survive this round.

I'm really worried about what the next few years will bring. I'm especially worried about what the next few months will bring. Both for my people, and for me individually. 

I'm supposed to have surgery early in December. That will have me recovering for a few months - well into the beginning of the Trump Administration Part Two. What if I need to leave? Surgery will put me months away from being able to react in whatever way I need to. But if I wait, I may not be able to have the surgery at all - who knows what changes to healthcare are going to follow? It may be now or never.

Am I ready to up and move out of the country? It's certainly something I'm considering. I'm not safe here. I'm visibly queer with a gender dysphoria diagnosis. I'm openly poly, kinky, gender non-conforming, with a mental disorder. Well, I guess that last one doesn't seem to be a barrier to anything. At least I'm also white, and technically in a heterosexual marriage, with a good income. But I recognize that I am in danger. 

I don't want to move; I don't want to leave where I am. But I would be safer somewhere else. I started the process of getting a passport a few months ago; I may have to start pushing harder on that.

But none of that is for today, or even this week. This week is about processing the news, processing the grief, rage, disbelief, disgust, worry, depression, and fear that comes with it. Right now, I need to commiserate with my people, reassure those who need it, accept support from those who offer it. Probably nothing will happen immediately as fallout, so this week I need to 'trust the routine'. My routine for doing my job, getting my daily chores done. Do the things I always do while my emotions churn and settle. Today is not about reacting, it's about processing. This week is not about planning, it's about protecting ourselves. Watch to see what happens, and maybe set a time to decide how to react - later.

Some of the devastation of grief is the feeling of being alone in it. This time, we are all grieving together. We aren't alone; we are friends; we are family; we share and support each others' feelings. But in some ways it's worse. Because when you are grieving alone, there's always the hope that someone will come by and take care of you. Right now, we are all hurting, and taking care of each other is even harder. But taking care of each other is sometimes the path to taking care of ourselves, too.