Stage: Anger

All manner of of things are turning me into nothing but a ball of rage. One of the biggest is the call for showing empathy and compassion to people who are backing a world filled with hate crimes. Already started. All over the news. It's out there. It's begun. They're bold and they're vicious. There have been suicides.

TW, suicidal ideation. The night of the election I went to sleep when it was still looking okay for Clinton, but starting to fall a bit. I hoped to wake up to news that the rollercoaster ended with Hillary Clinton as the president. However, I dreamed that I was watching Trump's victory speech. When I did wake up, I was in a panic. My computer was so slow to start. That last few seconds of hope was quickly dashed, and I was gripped by fear. My first reaction was to plot out the seven gun shops within five miles of my house. (There are more places to buy guns here than that. Those were just the closest ones.) There is a part of me that has lived in fear much of my life. I've kept it behind a wall until recently. I was very open with many people within the last few years about my bisexuality and my atheism. I'm still not sure which one of these has caused me more grief. It is established. I can't hide any of it, now, because I felt so safe. I no longer feel safe. And like a cyanide capsule in the tooth, this is what I thought in panic.

Today, I want to stay around. Not everything is grand and not everything is resolved. I'm still a single mom, still bisexual, more of an atheist than I was even a month ago, as I've resolved the last bad habits of reincarnation floating around my brain. I'm not going to join a church and renounce my feelings. I refuse to live in terror, because in the end, whether it's next year or in forty years, this all ends the same. If it makes people feel discomfort and anger, all the better. My presence was always merely a dire warning to others. Now it can also be a thorn in their sides. I'm good with that.

I don't know how things will be in a year. Two. Four. I'm guessing worse for me. The emboldened violence and threats will probably be astronomical. I'm going to strive to overcome every one of my impulses to Go, though. Out of spite, at this point.

I look at my childhood. I know I can do this. I don't fucking like it, though.