on disappointment

incoherent, enraged, barely contained

Disappointment is just curdled hope. A habitat for noxious resentment and rage.

If my brain is, in this metaphor, a fridge, disappointment is the thing that, even if you throw it away, leaves an impossible residue and gnarly stench.

If my brain is, in this metaphor, a fridge, it’s just one more piece of me that has to be objectified and divorced from my humanity to register to my fellow Americans as something worth giving a shit about.

*

I am starting to think that writing about anxiety is not enough to save us from it.

Or, really, that’s not true. I’ve actually thought that for a while now.

I really thought if I wrote about, and read about, where people’s anxieties come from as well as how they manifest, I might make a better future, one where folks don’t weaponize their anxiety but instead reassure one another’s humanity.

My guess is that if you’re here and you’re reading, maybe you thought the same.

*

Queer & trans friends: I love you. I see you.

Women friends: I love you. I see you.

Immigrant friends: I love you. I see you.

Palestinian friends, Ukrainian friends: I love you. I see you.

I’m so sorry.

*

I’ve always been skeptical of patriotism. It always has a metallic bloody aftertaste.

I have been thinking a lot about my great-grandparents. Both sides of my family immigrated to this country in the early twentieth century—one was fleeing pogroms, the other poverty and lack of opportunity. Both sides arrived hopeful that they could build a better future for themselves here. Because here, they had rights. They were safe. And they had hope.

And now? I don’t have a guarantee of a better future.

I don’t have rights over my body.

I don’t really have safety. Or rather, I’m safe in this moment, but not in the larger general sense.

But worst of all? There’s little to no hope right now.

Because we know what that angry senile cheeto is and what he will bring to the presidency. The country has spoken loud and clear—they are just fine with a lousier future if they can maybe see the economy mirage itself into something tantalizing for a minute.

I am resentful. And distrustful. Of everything and everyone who may have voted against my rights. Who voted in a way that has endangered the people I care about most. Of everything and everyone who has perverted and destroyed the American dream that buoyed my great-grandparents.

I don’t need a return to traditional American values.

I need a return to the idea that this place could not only a refuge, but a place to grow and thrive and dream.

*

Moments like this call for poetry.

"our words will not be heard
nor welcomed
but when we are silent
we are still afraid
 
So it is better to speak
remembering
we were never meant to survive."
-Audre Lorde, "A Litany for Survival"

*

We deserved a primary. Kamala did her best with a shit situation. We deserve a DNC that is strategic and not reactionary and doesn’t prioritize the ego of the incumbent over the needs of the American people.

Kamala, I’m so sorry.

*

I’m writing this from my office, where I am holding extended office hours today and tomorrow for anyone who needs to not be alone.

I am trying not to cry.

I haven’t cried yet, and so long as I stave off tears, then this isn’t really happening.

I am eating a sandwich from Pret even though I have no appetite.

I am going through the motions of a normal day without completely losing my shit with rage because no one in my vicinity needs it or deserves it. And if I let it out, I may never be able to stop screaming.

I am not alone in this is my guess. So if you too are doing what you are supposed to because that’s all you can do to keep yourself from screaming into the void, I suppose you can consider me keeping you company.

*

If you need help today:

• Call 988 for mental health emergencies.

• Queer & trans folks, the following hotlines are here to support you:

  • LGBT National Hotline: Call (888) 843-4564 for support for all ages.

  • The Trevor Project: Call (866) 488-7386 to connect with a Trevor counselor who is understanding of LGBTQ issues. You can also text TREVOR to 1-202-304-1200.

  • Trans Lifeline: Call (877) 565-8860 to connect with a peer support service run by trans people.