11/9/2016

It happened. I didn’t want it to happen; I voted every possible way that I could, but it happened. Trump is now President, whether we want to admit or not. Republicans took over the Senate, and will do the same to the Supreme Court.

This isn’t a political blog post. I’m not going to do any postmortems or figure out what went wrong (everything). I just needed a place to put down my feelings. My fears and anxieties. And trust me, there’s a lot of that.

I’m fucking terrified. Less for myself and more for everyone else. I’ve been nauseous since last night, feeling like I want to puke. My hands have been shaking, worse than they normally do (not Parkinsons, just some nerve damage). And of course, endless, endless crying.

Last night, after the results were announced, I tried to escape for a little while with a friend. We played some rounds of Overwatch. It was awkward. Gone was the banter, the dirty jokes, the trash talk. It was mostly silence. Maybe an occasional, “there’s a McCree over there” or “I got an Ult” to break it up. Our voices were strained and hoarse with emotion. My in-game actions all felt perfunctory, like I was watching a robot play the game. It sucked. Our energy was gone. We couldn’t even escape the harsh reality of our new America for even a couple of hours. There was no fun to be had.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to say. Don’t know what to tell my family. My New Family, the one that I had to find because my Old Family didn’t want me. People who I care about so much. That I love. That I’d like to become partners with someday. They’re hurting even worse than me. I see them, full of despair and openly weighing their options for suicide, and wanting to help them. To tell them that it’s okay, and that it will all be alright, even though that’s total bullshit. All I want to do is hold them and knock that metaphorical gun out of their hand, and resist the urge to pick it back up and use it on myself.

But I’m hundreds and even thousands of miles away from all of them. I slept in a dark room, wrapped in the bitter chill of a Colorado Winter. Now, more than ever, I don’t think I’ve ever felt so alone.

What do I say? Our alleged protectors are donating time and money to people who want us dead. Sell-out politicians and activists want to unite Both Sides and reach across an aisle built on the bodies of People of Color. Everyone cares more about comparing Hillary Clinton to Khaleesi and Hamilton and Star Wars and Fallout and other nerd shit for sheltered assholes in “Keep Calm and Carry On” t-shirts. Everyone is so hell-bent on blaming us for their failures; sticking LGBT folks in with their made up “This Is Bernie Bro To Me” narrative. We’ve been abandoned. Again. Left to fend for ourselves against two men that would be better at home in an edgy 90’s comic book than the White House. Seeing laughable plans from online social justice activists who consider the term “Daddy” to be cultural appropriation and couldn’t even win the fight against bigotry in something as inconsequential as video games to “organize” and do…whatever to dismantle the administration, at least until one of them throws an online temper tantrum when they realize more than one tranny would benefit from their pie-in-the-sky end goal and the whole thing is scrapped in a week.

All we have left is each other, and who knows who long that will last?

I dreamt that night that I had found an underground bunker. All of my friends had somehow made it to this location. We had power, food, water, and all the entertainment we could ever want. And most importantly, we had each other. We played and laughed and loved while the world above us burned. Unfortunately, this was only a dream. There is no escape, and we will all have to deal with this terrifying, unsafe, new reality of hate groups emboldened by a white nationalist rapist. And I don’t know what to do about it.

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