THE ALLURE OF DESPAIR
Today, November 5, 2024, is going to be one of the most consequential days of our lifetime. I wish that was hyperbole or dramatization for engagement’s sake, but it’s simply true. The United States, and subsequently the rest of the world, is facing a sliding doors moment. Behind one option is the continuation of business as usual albeit with our first female president and hopefully some new helpful policies. And behind door number two is a reality where Trump completely disregards democracy and actively fights to take away rights from women, members of the LGBTQ+ community and immigrants while punishing his enemies and disrupting fair elections. The people who think that both these options are the same vastly underestimate what Trump plans to do now that he is no longer surrounded by anyone willing–or able–to reel him in.
In many ways, it feels unfathomable that no one knows who will win this thing. Polling suggests a neck and neck race and the fact that Harris isn’t winning by a landslide feels like we have already lost. How is it possible that so many of our family members, neighbors and loved ones can hear the hate that Trump spews on a daily basis and not only not be repulsed by it, but be drawn to it? I find myself in a near constant state of trying to figure that out. Are people really that evil? Or are they simply victims of manipulation and a cult mentality? Is it some mix of both combined with a lack of critical thinking skills considering what experts say Trump’s plan will actually do for the economy? I don’t think I will ever be able to find a suitable answer despite my brain’s aching for one. Instead, I simply feel a growing detachment from a huge portion of my country’s population that is saddening and frightening.
I don’t want to feel this way about other people. But their beliefs confuse and alarm me. It makes me feel like humanity is doomed due to nothing more than our own moral failings.
Conversely, when Harris first took over as the Democratic candidate over the summer, I felt invigorated. Hope coursed through my veins and I fell into the comforting trap of assuming she would win and we could all leave Trump behind forever. Then my personal life imploded. My mother contracted a rare and fatal disease and I lost her within weeks of her diagnosis. It was a one in a million chance and yet it turned out to be the worst case scenario. All that work I had done to “not assume the worst” was tossed out the window. Sometimes your greatest fears do come true and there is nothing you can do to stop it.
I’m hyper aware that this recent experience has shaped my fears around this election. It almost feels safer to assume Trump will win, democracy as we know it will cease to exist, and America will dissolve completely into white supremacy with zero separation of (evangelical) church and state. Instead of continuing to put up a fight for a better future and lose, I could take refuge in being right and shouting I told you so as people I love are inevitably imprisoned and denied basic rights. In some of my lower moments, it feels like the foundation of my world cracked when my mom died and now I’m waiting for us all to fall into a deep abyss because a cruel fate is unavoidable. But, hey, at least I know it’s coming this time.
When these types of thoughts flood my mind, I force myself to take a deep breath and pull myself back from the enticing spiral into despair and apathy. Giving up on humanity is not what my mother would want for me and it’s not what I want for myself. (Or at least, not overwhelmingly what I want for myself.) I know I have to find a way to keep living in my new reality, regardless of what happens after election day. Big picture, I probably don’t want to spend whatever time I have left hating everyone and everything.