Why I will not abandon the United States... and why you shouldn't, either. (Even if you really fucking want to!)

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I am fortunate to have so many wonderful friends around the world, some of whom I've never met in real life. They are in places like Australia, Germany, Sweden, Canada, South Africa... literally scattered across different continents, each as beautiful as the next.

At one point or another during the presidential primaries, they have all offered me and my son safe haven where they are, with no time limit and with every intention to make us staying there a permanent thing.

On Tuesday, the United States made history by electing a man entirely unfit to run for any political (or other) office, much less the presidency. We did a complete about-face from President Obama by electing someone so heinous, so unbelievably crass, so lacking moral fiber... but white. And male, I may add, considering his running mate was white, too. The racism and misogyny from this election is almost impossible to comprehend... how could we do this.

My friends have reached out again to offer the same safe haven, this time with a sense of urgency for what America had done to itself. I've joked about (and... erm, researched) seeking asylum in another country several times during this election season, especially when Trump won the Republican primary. I knew he would get it, and knowing how zealously marginalized white men (and some other individuals!) have felt with a black president in office, I knew Trump would be our president-elect.

That same night, Canada's immigration site crashed as like-minded Americans sought to get the fuck out of what they never signed up for in the first place. I've done the same, and when my friends have reached out saying they have space for me and Tycho, no doubt... I considered it. I'm still considering it.

You know what, though? I can't leave.

Not because I physically or logistically or even eligibly can't. I can, and I have ample opportunity, as well as some fantastic people willing to help me and my son create a new homeland and start a new life.

But this election is now so much bigger than me and what I want to do. It's turned instead into what I, and others on the same side, need to do to protect our women, our LGBTQ+, our Muslims, our disabled, our blacks, our immigrants, our people. Our Americans who, because of their minority status, will be treated like second-class citizens by at least half the country and, equally horrifying, their leadership.

Even if their policies never materialize, both the rhetoric from the primaries and how Trump emboldened a group of people to outwardly express their hatred for minority groups have already done their damage. In fact, that is probably the more dangerous part than any policy Trump could ever dream up or attempt to implement: outright bigotry is now normalized.

But it's not too late. Now is our time to work towards reversing that damage.

Republicans (or conservatives) against Trump, I know this will be reminiscent of watching your best friend completely blow it on the dance floor (that is, awkwarrrrd)... but you're in a particularly excellent place to change the establishment from the inside out. I implore you to become active in and even employed by your local, state, and federal government to directly change rule of law that will come from your own party or wing.

Democrats (or liberals, or progressives -- holla!) need to hold Trump accountable to the law, to the Constitution, and to the truth. The real truth, not Trump's warped, narcissistic, self-serving version of that truth. Write in to and call your government officials at all levels, assemble grassroots efforts to protect those who need it most, and make your voices LOUD and CLEAR. You make up half this country, and your voice will help those who cannot speak for themselves.

And everyone: We have the power of dissent, we have the power to be advocates. A group of Americans are already using that power to protest the election in several major metropolitan areas across the United States, and even if this inevitable inauguration happens, the fire needs to keep burning.

It will be a long, busy, exhausting four years, and they will almost absolutely bring some awful policies, broken families, personal struggle... but if we all work together, we will do our part to ensure we don't free-fall into the worst situation fathomable.

America: I love you. I truly do. I love every last one of your citizens, for all their flaws and convictions. And despite wanting so badly to leave as the writing on the wall surrounds us... I stand with you, and I will stand for all your citizens.

Plan. Mobilize. Listen. Empathize. Stand up. Be heard. Work fast. Care for yourself.

And don't leave... FIGHT.

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Telling myself the truth.

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I've often been accused of being able to "get over" something quickly like it's a bad thing, or act as if the feeling associated with a bad situation doesn't exist, or move on and "discard" things I see as negative influences in my life with seemingly no consequence. Most recently (and frequently), I've been accused of compartmentalizing.

Samhain is when I typically reflect on the past year, what all has transpired, and what I may learn for the coming turn of the wheel. This one brings with it some interesting challenges: Moving out, custody agreements (and disagreements), making a life on my own, graduate school, breakups and makeups and breakups again... this year really ran the gamut of life-changing, sometimes sucky experiences.

And yes, for the most part, I've been able to separate the feeling from the fact, accomplish what I needed without a lot of fuss or muss. I initially found that ability not at all detrimental; in fact, I found it beneficial, as I could disentangle myself from the emotional bullshit that comes from the situation.

I explored this more when prompted this week to write a poem using Dorianne Laux's Heart as the example. Choose a word, reflect on it, then write a poem of metaphors.

I originally had "compartment" at the top of my assignment, thinking that would be its direction. The more I researched the word's meaning, though, the less I thought it applied:

Compartmentalization (in psychology) is an unconscious psychological defense mechanism used to avoid cognitive dissonance, or the mental discomfort and anxiety caused by a person's having conflicting values, cognitions, emotions, beliefs, etc. within themselves.

So it did end up being inappropriate; while I do have my coping mechanisms, there's no cognitive dissonance experienced by removing the feeling. It's just... removing the feeling in the first place.

Freudian psychoanalysis provides more appropriate ego defense mechanisms:

Isolation occurs when an individual separates ideas or feelings from thoughts or situations, notably those producing anxiety or stress, and often replaces them with purposeful happiness.

Intellectualization, a form of isolation, concentrates on the intellectual components of a situation in particular so as to distance oneself from the associated anxiety-provoking emotions (that is, thinking to avoid feeling).

Third perceptual position is a way to "achieve" intellectualization, where the individual adopts an independent observer role to gain new perspective and simultaneously removes their own emotion from the situation.

They're not great coping mechanisms by any means; in fact, after finding these, I readily see why someone would say I'm stoic or avoiding or, more positively, able to "see the silver lining" in everything.

This especially comes to light when I think about the last year and the biggest change therein: Deciding to divorce. Even here, I waxed poetic about getting my best friend back when, all defense mechanisms aside, I was destroyed and thought myself a failure. I hated asking for a divorce, I hated feeling like I didn't do enough, and honestly... I hated Matt, too, for his part in why I asked.

I refused to deal with the emotions as they came up, instead trying to find some reason for being and a glimmer of hope when all I wanted to do was collapse in my new kitchen, alone and dejected, and sob. It does eventually rear its ugly head, resulting in a depression lasting for days or even weeks at a time, but in an effort to get the shit over with, I emotionally isolate.

... I don't really know what I'm doing with this post. Maybe, by virtue of finding and internalizing my findings, I can do a better job feeling emotions as they come up rather than subconsciously positioning myself as a third party. Maybe this is just a way of recognizing and there's no real need to change.

Maybe... maybe this is a big fat fuck you to anyone who thinks I'm without emotion because frankly, how many people are open about hearing others' struggles? Who really wants to hear that my divorce is killing me? Who asks "how are you" with true intentions of wanting to know, rather than doing it out of social convention?

And after almost 32 years, who wants to believe I'm anything but happy?

I suppose this is me telling myself, it's okay to feel shitty sometimes, even in the moment. It's okay to acknowledge it, to feel it, to express it. It's okay for others to think you have no emotions, but it's reasonable to expect them to take those emotions seriously when you do feel them and express them to others, as they do exist and are felt and are often experienced deeply.

If they're not okay with that? Well. There's their big fat fuck you.

If they are? Then thank you... thanks for helping me acknowledge and feel and express, even if it's difficult for both or all of us. Especially if I struggle.

... I really don't have much more to say on this. But it feels good to finally tell myself the truth.

Cracked.

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I'm not going to crack. There's too much in this world that brings me joy, pleasure, excitement, unbridled happiness, and to forsake all that for the darkness that envelops me... I can't crack.

 

It's so easy to forget all that is good when your perception of the world flatlines. Not really dead, but not really here; hovering just in the middle, where even finding something truly enjoyable is suppressed by the weight of all things heavy and disheartening and depressing.

 

I've been like this for a couple days now with no real sign of the clouds lifting. Those of you who also suffer depression know it just happens -- one day, you're driving down the road on your way to work and you wonder if it would really be all that bad if one of the two-by-fours in the truck ahead of you dislodged and flew through your windshield. It's not a serious thought, really, but you're struck by how little you believe that matters, or that anything actually matters.

 

All the energy I have is devoted to mustering even a breath. Writing this? Difficult, considering I can't feel my arms. And the voices in my head telling me "you're worthless, why would anyone want to stay, don't say anything, keep to yourself, you're shitty and no one loves you..." they end up taking away that energy to breathe, to type, to rationalize.

 

But I'm still here, and at this point, that's really all that counts. I have a beautiful boy and a strong love keeping me afloat, though neither understands what's going on or how to help, if they can at all. Sometimes, all you need is for your son to laugh uncontrollably as you make "tickle bubbles" in the pool, or for your partner to offer their hand... not grab it, not drag it over, but let it be there for when you need that lifeline.

 

And I have myself. That doesn't feel like much right now -- in fact, having myself feels more like a burden than a blessing, especially as I continue keeping others' feelings in consideration and further neglecting myself by telling myself how undeserving I am. When I return, though? I'll have myself, truly.

 

Something good has to come out of this. I can't be "gifted" with this ugly, manipulative monster and not see how his existence can actually better my life when he's vanquished (until the next time, at least). I've been dealt a hand containing all these shitty low-value cards, but what if they amount to a royal flush?

 

In that spirit, and in the interest of finding a bright spot somewhere, here are my Top Eight Good Things About Depression:

 

1. I have become pretty self-aware.

 

I mean, I consider myself a pretty "happy" person a majority of the time, which is probably why it shocks others to the core when I fall victim to depression. Those moments, though, when the darkness sets in and your world comes to a standstill while the planet continues revolving, act as a viewfinder into who you are and force you to become introspective.

 

As a result of this questioning and analyzing, you have a better perspective on how your behavior affects yourself and those around you, and you take active measures to remain cognizant of both. Many great creators -- artists, musicians, poets, writers -- have experienced depression at some point, and it's likely this introspection that leads them to the art they create.

 

2. I am more empathetic.

 

Not everyone wears their heart on their sleeve, but I've noticed those who speak little to others actually reach out to me in need. I like to think struggling with your own inner demons leads to a better understanding of what's important to others, and when you share that importance with them, it makes them feel appreciated and valued. I've had some fascinating discussions with people who want only to be heard by someone who truly wants to hear about their passions.

 

3. Depression helps my thinking.

 

Okay, not all the time -- see the two-by-four. There are times when the thoughts only serve to hurt you. But those less threatening obsessions and ruminations actually become fodder for analytical thinking. Your brain is constantly on the treadmill, running through its monstrous thoughts ("he hates me, he never loved me, and why would he considering who I am"), then once you realize it's the monster thinking and not you, seeking ways in which that monster is wrong.

 

4. I don't have a choice about staying physically fit.

 

Yoga is one of my mainstays for staying sane, so I practice at least twice a week. I'm developing a home practice, too, with the help of some killer podcasts. I've also developed a link between eating well and positive days; perhaps more importantly, there exists the desire to drown myself in carbs and cheese and chocolate and other crap food when I'm feeling down, and that only serves to make me feel even heavier (in more ways than just physically).

 

I'm by no means disciplined, and sometimes I do give in to those desires -- my lunch today is leftover lasagna, speaking of carbs and cheese -- but eating better and exercising means feeling better, too.

 

5. I am less judgmental.

 

You've heard the demand for people to pull themselves "up by their bootstraps," right? Even if they're giving their all, it's never enough for those who believe everyone can do better. Being disabled by a disease that wrecks my life to varying degrees every month or two, I know firsthand just how difficult it is to tear yourself out of bed and brush your teeth, much less the effort someone may need to put in every day to accomplish at least that much. I also know what it's like to be judged by these efforts, and like hell will I ever judge anyone for putting in the most they can, even if it seems very little to those around them.

 

6. I've cultivated compassion.

 

When you have experienced the want to cry in the middle of a board room for no reason at all, you become attuned to people who want to do the same. Even listlessly staring into space can be sign enough that someone needs to know they're valued, they're loved, they're important. Now when I see someone tearing up, I instantly tune into my intuition, feeling the weight of their sadness, and offer a hand or a hug if they want. It's nice to know someone recognizes it and cares about you, even if it's a small gesture of kindness.

 

7. I retreat!

 

This is a constant work in progress, but I know I get angry and lash out when I fall into a state of depression, and I've learned to say little or to watch my tone when I do speak. It's difficult to keep others' needs in mind when you're not even focusing on your own, but being an asshole when depressed doesn't help the other person, especially since they're likely not the cause. I've even resorted to, "I love you, I just don't love myself right now, and I don't want to say anything I may regret later. I'm going to read for a bit," just to remove myself from situations.

 

8. Every day -- and every little thing -- counts.

 

I've truly believed this in the first place, anyway, but when life is so difficult you feel like literal crap, it's so easy to fall into a negativity trap and allow it to consume us. Good days are easy; I can appreciate the warm sun, my favorite shows, satisfying sex. Doing this when you're depressed? Like you're not already running a marathon to get yourself out the door, now I need to appreciate things, too?

 

Those little things you take for granted when you're happy feel herculean when depressed. Like right now, I am typing, breathing, and listening to music, all the while feeling nothing... so my exercises are to appreciate the ability to read, the clean air mingled with others' lunches cooking up (and their great cooking, if it smells this good!), and the guitar riffs lining up beautifully with the vocals.

 

Even as I write that, it puts me into the present, and those problems or emptiness I felt moments ago lift temporarily. For people suffering depression, there are these brief windows of respite, and those times lead to really clinging to those positive thoughts until they dominate once again.

 

"You have a track record of making it through every single day up to today." And I do. While not every day has been sunshine and roses, I'm still here, and I still right. And when mingled with the sun, these tears will only grow my garden.

 

I like it - I'm not gonna crack

I miss you - I'm not gonna crack

I love you - I'm not gonna crack

I killed you - I'm not gonna crack