Sums Up What I’ve Been Feeling

From My New Plaid Pants:

This is Trump’s America now. Don’t you keep seeing that pop up in the worst places? (As if there’s a good place for such sentiment.) But whenever somebody burns down a mosque or assaults a gay couple what do they say? “This is Trump’s America now.” And knowing the types they probably add a “Bitch” on for good measure.

And the stinger is they’re right. We live in Trump’s America now, and it feels like garbage. I wake up every morning sick to my stomach. I’m touchy on everything—short-tempered, unable to focus, and constantly believing the worst about everybody.

It’s been hard, basically impossible, over the past several months not to let my worst instincts take hold. I know that’s what nightmares-turned-flesh like Steve Bannon are looking for—they want us hopeless and demoralized. But there’s only so many times you can remind yourself of that while simultaneously watching the world turn a blind eye to the bad people doing their bad things gleefully and seemingly repercussion-free before that hopelessness pervades and infects you no matter what you do.