But… How are you, really?: Dropping the act so we can scream together a little bit

My partner and I had an incredibly loving, productive talk last night, and I was sort of the asshole.

Thanks to the chaos of current events, many have been experiencing a heightened sense of fear and danger about an uncertain future. It’s had the planner in me operating in major awareness and preparedness mode, making it hard not to dwell on or bring up in conversation.

…Again.

After my partner kindly asked several times over the course of the evening if we could talk about something else.

Something else? Of course! Absolutely. I can do that. 100%. Cool cool cool cool cool.

I’ve always felt this pull to help others feel safe.

Since my first assault in college and through the two abusive relationships that followed, I’ve had a deeply held need to understand why people do what they do. I’ve coped with difficult, trapped feelings by educating myself as much as possible. It’s what inspired me to study law and social justice, even while deeply in denial of my own ongoing victimization.

I spent nearly Trump’s entire first term as president in an abusive relationship while also working as a first responder. That wildly traumatic period opened my eyes to the deeply-rooted systemic issues in our legal system. A lifelong love of reading and writing evolved into passion for research and communication with vulnerable communities. I dove into studies and personal accounts of marginalization and systemic problems that got us here.

These voices inspired me, relatable stories helping me not to feel so alone. They absolutely lit the way toward my eventual escape. They also instilled an even deeper sense of responsibility to help others be more aware of and prepared for crises.

And damn, if the U.S. isn’t in crisis.

As a result of the above, worrying and knowledge sharing are two fairly prominent ways I show affection.

My former abusers delighted in making me complicit in my own harm. Over our five years together, I was coerced and threatened into isolating, numbing, and silencing myself to get through the ever-present danger with the least damage possible.

These are the exact abusive patterns we’ve seen play out in Trump’s every move. His blatant misogyny, delusions of grandeur, narcissistic rage, gaslighting, network of flying monkeys… every tactic sends alarm bells clanging for survivors.

We aren’t fooled

Trump and his goons are becoming ever more obvious in their intent to cause harm to every aspect of our lives. We see them attacking our queer loved ones; our social resources; our global allies; and our most vulnerable community members of other races, abilities, backgrounds, and beliefs. The escalation of their bold hatred should absolutely be making us nervous.

The bizarre expectation that we function normally as a society during this madness has me about ready to explode. Going about our routines, worrying about traffic and bills and deadlines, when our country is actively witnessing a coup unfold in front of our screens? What’s being expected of us is ludicrous. How could we not be struggling with this disconnect from reality?

Masking political anxiety at work or when spending time with friends is exhausting and activating. Of course, this heightened state of societal stress leaves us with little energy to organize or figure our way out of our present predicament.

It’s hard to plan ahead when you’re barely getting through the moment. A classic control tactic. It makes me feel like I’m right back there, struggling to keep up appearances and cover my pain in the hopes it won’t get worse. I take no joy in this spoiler: it always does.

But we see right through his attempts to use lies, bullying, and censorship to scrub his myriad sins from history. Those attempts cannot succeed, because if we allow him to scrub away his cruelty, what will be left of what’s truly happening here?

On average, it takes about seven attempts for a victim to leave their abuser. That’s a dire number, but after connecting with so many incredible survivors of impossible situations through my writing, I have so much hope.

We are so much stronger together. We can break free of this monster if we can stay connected.

Resisting while protecting our health

Obviously, everything that’s going on takes a heavy toll and can be tough to balance with my own health and CPTSD diagnosis. I take time to rest and try to maintain my health the best I can, but it’s a tug of war I don’t always win.

We’re all experiencing a massive trauma together, and that shit is soul-suckingly exhausting. Because it’s so draining and difficult to avoid, we may begin subconsciously flinching away from politics altogether. We convince ourselves the problem is too big for us to affect. Even acknowledging the pain causes extreme distress and feelings of avoidance, making it notoriously difficult to recognize in oneself.

I fully understand the pull to shut down as a result of all of this constant scary news. We know this abusive game: the onslaught of confusion, misinformation, and inhumanity is absolutely meant to exhaust us to this point of learned helplessness. Dissociation is an incredibly helpful survival tool that got me through five years of abuse. We often don’t even realize we’re doing it.

I’m the first to admit that with everything currently happening, I’ve for sure been reverting to foggy days of barely shuffling through. I’ve been playing it real loose with the acceptable length of naps.

This is going to be a long fight, and our ability to engage will fluctuate. It’s important not to get stuck in freeze mode too long, but it’s also important not to let current events consume every waking moment.

Trump doesn’t get to exploit our mental health for his own gain. I’ve spent nearly five years trying to convince myself the immediate danger was finally over, only to find my humanity again under threat from all sides. Unfortunately for him, he’s messing with populations that have learned to thrive in chaos.

By regularly checking in with ourselves and loved ones, we can honestly reflect on actions we’ve taken to ground and protect ourselves as well as what we’ve done to help others. We can set aside time to share important safety information while respecting healthy boundaries around political talk.

Being intentional about our bandwidth may mean realizing we have energy for more active resistance, or that we need to take more time to care for ourselves. It’s a balance I’m clearly still trying to find.

It’s overwhelming to know that we, as individuals, can’t be doing everything to fix our world at any given moment. There’s only so much within our sphere of control, something I do my best to remember while also finding it highly distressing.

I’ve always believed if I could only learn enough, do enough, I could prevent what I experienced from happening to anyone else. The reality of systemic change may be more difficult than I thought, but I still believe.

Throughout history, oppressed groups have always had to fight for our humanity from people like Trump. Our chronically activated nervous systems have become the antihero; training us to prepare, discover patterns, educate others, and communicate the truth in the best ways we can. We aren’t going back to the terror, isolation, and loss of self we’ve experienced before. We refuse to abandon one another. He will not break us.

I think I’m experiencing that flow moment where my passion for advocacy aligns with my ability to contribute in a way that energizes and fulfills me, and I want to help others find theirs. Because once you find the way you can best contribute meaningfully in a way that fills your cup? Talk about a second wind.

The best way I can help other victims right now feels like informing and guiding those who want to take action; but who may not yet have the experience, support, or energy to navigate this storm. This includes those wanting to practice sharing how they’ve really been feeling, but for whatever reason don’t feel safe speaking up in their community.

There’s always something we can do, even if it’s the simple act of sharing experiences to help others and build connection. Taking time to learn about issues impacting others can encourage others and make a difference in how we understand our community.

You may have felt this power awakening in you, even if you aren’t sure how you can best use it yet. Whether your trauma stems from personal experience, systemic oppression, illness, or grief from any one of the multitudes of community disasters we’ve faced in recent years; you may feel drawn to act while others are still gathering their strength.

If you’re struggling to cope with current events and need another place to put it without emotionally draining your loved ones, I’d genuinely love to know: