Sunday, April 11

Healing Takes Time, And Healing Is Painful

Thats what makes us entire, and human.

Well be all right, I hope.

I likewise feel bad for him, since what a fucking shitpile hes going to have to clean up. And please be aware, that whatever it is Im sensation is going to be felt a thousand times even worse by those who were really in Trumps crosshairs: anyone male and not white and of some wealth. And I think its all right to feel fucked up about that. To feel sad and angry and not just happy. To be clear, its also all right to feel delighted, because for genuine, fuck that fucking loser.

Thats how we heal, too.

You still may wake up nervous.

The parade comes later on.

Were distressed as a country.

Due to the fact that heres the important things:.

Day you win the war, you lay on the sand, you look up at the sky.

Thats how we fight the trauma, I believe. By acknowledging it, seeing that its real, by mourning what was lost– and after that getting to work, the constant work, the persistent work.

Its fine to feel fucked up. To feel sad and mad and not just delighted. To be clear, its likewise okay to feel delighted, due to the fact that for genuine, fuck that fucking loser.

I feel like a hollowed-out pumpkin. A jack-o-lantern with the candle burnt out– my eyes large, my smile manic, but my middle all empty. And in retrospect, how could we not feel that method? We have remained in a war for 4 years. Weve been battling misinformation, disinformation, and cruelty in every direction. Weve secured considerable political success at every election since, but their sweet taste never ever lasted long since some brand-new fuckery was constantly on its method in, a rolling sewage wave crashing down on our beaches.

Which feels about best to me.

You laugh, perhaps. You most likely cry. You curl up and kick at the ground. You go through it– you go through all those feelings, round and round, a carousel of sensations whirling too fast inside you.

Walking that healing road.

Dedicating, and recommitting, to that fight.

Anyhow, thanks all for being here, still, and for enduring … whatever this is. Its tough not to be mad and raaaaar all the time, but I tried to do it in a method that was … a minimum of funny and entertaining, if absolutely nothing else. Its been a difficult row to hoe and I appreciate you all doing it with me. Well keep strolling this roadway, together, I hope. We can perhaps talk about something else for a little while.

But Im likewise just feeling screwed up, and on evaluation, I think thats quite normal, and I wished to talk about it– because perhaps youre feeling that way, too.

Trump is gone since of all of you (and Stacey Abrams gets special note, here). Hes gone because our democracy held– barely. And at the risk of continuing to blend my metaphors (settle down, its a blog site, youre not paying for it), the garden will grow once again, and it will need our effort to keep it growing and going.

I kinda thought this day would come and I d just be pure elation. Im likewise sort of unfortunate, and tired, and feeling a little frizzled out. Or the media would unceremoniously just grab whatever incorrect, inane claim he made and utilize it as their heading without context or clarity.

You still can feel pleased one minute, and mad the next.

He stole a lot from us. He took our comfort. He took lives, tasks, a sense of hope, he stole some of our actual democracy– he essentially opened the castle gates to COVID-19, which further was available in and took good friends and enjoyed ones, it stole work, it took efficiency, it took our sense of self, it stole our time and our sense of time. He has taken so much.

You still might feel unsure.

So, yeah, Im delighted. Its great to see Biden rise to fulfill the obstacle. The first day, hes appearing with a shopping list of plans and top priorities, and further, actual actions to begin turning this big-ass ship around. That requires time, however hes doing it, and I commend him. I likewise feel bad for him, because what a fucking shitpile hes going to have to tidy up. (Not to discuss the odor hes going to have to leave the White House. Hamberders, body dye, and exhibited human greases. Shudder.).

Simply a light scattering of little sugar flakes, sticking to some surfaces however not to others. And then as he took off, the sun poked through for a moment– a patch of blue sky in the middle of the gray.

Like this:.
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And I think its alright to feel fucked up about that. Not unfortunate hes gone, of course. It feels weird.

Thats injury. Thats loss. Thats healing.

And now hes gone. Gone from the White House, quickly gone from the presidency. Taking all that he stole with him, carrying it away with him, the fucking loser.

The parade doesnt come the day you win the war.

Were experiencing a sociological, extensive version of a complex injury response from persistent exposure to feeling … under attack, to feeling captive. And please be aware, that whatever it is Im feeling is going to be felt a thousand times worse by those who were really in Trumps crosshairs: anyone not white and male and of some wealth. He pressed the racial divide, especially for Black Americans, who are literally standing in the sights of authorities weapons.

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