How to Cope When Donald Trump Has Made Life Actually Intolerable
Oh, my stars, look. It’s a day. That means Donald Trump said a thing.
It was likely a lie/demonstrably inaccurate/some form of hate speech/moronic.
Because he is a liar, demonstrably inaccurate at all times, hateful and a moron.
You may take a moment to let that set in.
Though at this point, anything Trump related probably elicits at the most a dull hum because you’re now dead inside.
Because it is endless and eternal.
And while we can hope for November, we know it won’t truly end then, because he and his followers have been emboldened to remain awful forever.
And then you’ve got high school acquaintances posting pro-Trump bullshit on Facebook.
Maybe even people you actually love, like friends or family members.
God forbid, even your partner might question if Hillary is truly any better than Trump.
“I mean, they’re both equally bad. I don’t know who’s worse.”
“The lesser of two evils is still evil.”
“I mean, you have your opinion and I have mine, and mine just happens to completely ignore anyone who isn’t a white cisgender male far above the poverty line. Also the real enemy is political correctness.”
Because this entire year has been an exercise in “what would happen if I just shoved a Molotov cocktail up my asshole and waited a few seconds?” Nonstop pain, confusion, regret and general uncertainty of what is going on and what will come next.
At a certain point, you stop being able to feel surprise, or horror, or despair, or anything.
And you start to feel powerless and like letting go of hope entirely.
But, like, we really need to win this one.
It won’t be the answer to all our problems.
But a whole lot more is at stake.
So, let’s just try to make it through. Take care of yourselves.
And let’s all take care of each other.
And let’s do this.
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