When we lose our fear, they lose their power. African quote
We are at a strange point in our world. Nearly overnight, our world has altered. People have voted and chosen Donald Trump. Many have indeed voted for something of which they do not know the complete ramifications in the least. I fear for immigrants, trans people, and the seniors, among many other oppressed groups. Myself, I fear for my identity as a disabled person, a queer, a Jew and a woman, as mentioned below. I have known oppression before; now I face it directly. Yes, it is not as if the fascist ideals were not existent; now many of us see and feel the differences more distinctly.
The decision to elect Trump is devastatingly, and greatly, visceral. My body feels the pain of a fascist taking over this country. Nausea, aches, and sometimes dizziness. For me, life now comes into a sharp focus. My rights, many of our rights, will likely be altered. As a woman, queer person, Jew, a person with a disability—I am not likable in Trump’s vision, in Trump’s plan. Many individuals’ rights will be taken away.
I am a writer from the viewpoint of these identities and an amateur anthropological linguist with mental health challenges. From these perspectives, I have written extensively. Now at this great turning point in history, a little more than two weeks after the election of Donald Trump—say his name and do not be afraid—my concerns about the world are reignited with a new stance. All of my previous thoughts and worries about the human race and nature are now deeply invested in politics, a realm from which I have dabbled little in writing before.
Those of us in pain need to find spaces in which we are able to talk about these new feelings and new meanings in our world if it is helpful to dialogue. Some of us need to cry; others need find refuge in curling up, pondering, or following the news; or many of the above. Fascism is nothing new in the world or United States. Like I wrote above, the individuals and structures were there before November 5, 2024.
The most concerning point as it stands right now for myself is the great fear rising up in the United States. The fear is not black and white. No one knows now who is who, such as if the person at the cash register or rolling up to the cash register voted for Trump or whomever else. This is divisive. As I wrote above, nothing has changed, but the election might give sanction for discriminatory ways of acting, to say the least. There is an all-pervasive fear: in those who didn’t vote for Trump and are afraid of what is to come now, and also likely in Trump voters who, I believe, have a deep-seated fear of losing control or power. Trump covets power. Yes, I, too, want power—empowerment—to feel in control of myself. Trump wants to feel power and control over others. Indeed, one sees fear, or at least sadness, in many of the faces on the streets, drawn down, no longer sharing glances as much. But at the same time, this is a moment—when we’re lucky—to actually reach out and make conversation with anyone, while walking the dog or with the person in the elevator, no matter how divisive we feel now. Maybe this change might break open necessary conversations while at the same time we save ourselves from the burgeoning fascism. As individuals, we have power now to have conversations related to change.
So what do these thoughts and this blog post have to do with the book I have written? I can reflect and point to several sections in my memoir—and thus my life—that reflect what is going on in the world now as a new presidency approaches. As much as the mental health system has assisted me to provide a path toward better mental health, the system has been oppressive. It has labeled my thoughts and words as erroneous and ill or sick. My brain has been considered different, odd, or strange. The professionals, well-meaning, have often taken my power away from me—disabling me; labeling me different and inferior to them. These are some thoughts I explore in my memoir that resonate with today’s pending oppressive regime.
Moreover, as I wrote above, there is great fear arising now, but we have each other, the others who agree with us. Perhaps even those who disagree with us. We are all born as innocent babies, relatively. We all share a human nature and that is in us—something that we share and with which we can hopefully connect.
Someone recently shared with me their perspective that fear is like a river that one can’t alter, but is there to wake us up and check our immediate surroundings, asking us if we’re OK. If we are OK, the time is an opportunity to ground and connect with our natural surroundings and body.
We must build community at this juncture. We have to take control of our bodies that others can take from us. As the boundaries shift, I know I have dealt with shifting boundaries before in which I have had to cleverly adjust my relationships to others. This might manifest in relationships with individuals whom I once worked with in the mental health system and now know as friends. Or in my work as a peer specialist, I share my lived experience with clients. Or in my middle-of-the-night encounters when I was suddenly plunked down in a psychiatric unit with other patients with whom I did or did not share a point of view and we were in the deepest of our emotional pain. I found myself in dayrooms or smoking rooms and broke out conversation with my comrades, whomever they were. We talked about the different psychiatrists and which one was better, how to get a pass more easily, and the best places to stay up late without getting caught. In those moments—and this moment in human history—it was time to hold onto each other’s hands, dialogue, and work together against a growing oppression, with as little fear as we could muster.
In my life, my words have frequently come from a place so deep, often called psychosis, which sometimes gets called “crazy,” and other times my words actually make sense and have wisdom attributed to them, as now. They arise from the same place, the same font of energy, a wellspring of fear, coping, and survival—all bound up and operating within me in order to progress in my life. Now I want those words to speak. This is the moment.
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