I've been trying to figure out why I feel mental illness lurking on the edge of consciousness lately--a kind of foggy craziness which comes and goes, and which I have been medicating with Amazon.com expenditures and lots of white wine. Sigh.
Then I got it. My husband grew up in a seriously dysfunctional family, and spoke of the parental arguments which came and went like storms: the chair thrown at him by his mom; dragging his dad out of bars when Dad was on a seasonal bender; and the hypocrisy of maintaining the image of a ideal family to the world, when within the family was seething. So--I finally figured out that we live in a large dysfunctional family. Us. Americans. Now. Under Trump. And, oh, Bannon.
Think about it. Trump lies constantly. I am getting whip-lash going back and forth from manic pronouncement to other insane statements. "Muslims are forbidden." "No, I didn't mean ALL Muslims, only certain ones." "It's not a Muslim ban." And certainly not from countries he does business with, including Egypt, Saudi Arabia, and Turkey. And, oh, in case you have forgotten: the dudes who engineered September 11th all came from the not-forbidden countries.
He's trying to create a reality show with us as actors, putting forth the message that: All is well (for some of us); you will have health care (except maybe you...); "I am an environmentalist," as he took down the Climate Change website and attacked the National Park fellows.
So, aside from lying and switching stories--not to say inventing an entire new narrative for our country--how else are we dysfunctional? I would name fear as the next crazy-making part of this administration. Their actions strike fear in the hearts of many of us: Will they press the nuclear button? Will I have health care as I age? Will their actions inflame ISIS so we have more attacks? And now they are peddling "soft-core Holocaust Denial." Scary, scary, scary.
I don't like feeling this anxious and sometimes helpless. Time to get my ass in gear, which is the only thing to do when we are trying to find our way through a fog of lies, deception, and fear. Get those diapers to the Survival Center. Donate money to CRS who help Syrian refugees. Give money to the ACLU as they defend our freedoms and work against the Muslim ban. I wish I could make shoes, the way I read about one woman doing, using recycled inner tubes for the shoes' soles, and the tops made from strong cloth. Then she sends them to Syrian refugee camps for the children.
I wish I could do more, but it's something. If you can't go to protest marches in D.C., find something near at hand to repair, make better, soothe, cheer,
or help. Create beauty. Sing on the subway. Go to church. Write a poem of protest. Drive an elderly person to Mass who couldn't get there on their own. Write your Reps., call, or show up at a town meeting where a Rep. is present. Be mad. Wear pink hats. Celebrate. Don't let the bastards get you down.