Athena: Anger

Dear Augustine,

I've been angry. It's starting to settle down a bit now. I think the current feeling is upset. There's anger, but there's also hurt and that is so dominant that it feels like this black hole that sucks everything into it. Hurting mostly for people I love, grieving for the lack of understanding on all sides, the way it seems impossible to surmount all the tension and anger and vitriol.

But I am still angry. I'm angry that people excused hateful vitriol...and not just in the actual election. It should never have gotten that far. I'm angry that the people who did try to stand up against it and call things out just got rolled over. I'm angry that people didn't just. turn. up. Or that people vote as a joke. I'm angry at white Evangelicals...who voted for Tr*mp in higher margins than they did for George W. Bush, one of their own. I don't even fucking understand that. I'm so damn glad I'm not an Evangelical anymore, but I'm still mad that it broke my heart. They had the opportunity to save us all from this and they chose power more.

I'm angry that Hillary has worked her whole damn life and has taken every smear and retort, every rant, and somehow stood there with a straight face, calm and collected. And that people saw that and hated her more instead of thinking, "That's what we need." I'm angry that she's worked so hard and that this won't happen for her now. I'm angry that she had to lose when she should've had a landslide, or that she even had to run against him instead of against somebody like Mitt Romney. I disagree with every one of his policies, but at least I have some respect for him.

I'm angry now that we still can't talk to each other. That people see the acts of the few and use it to dismiss easily the hurt and pain and frustration of the many (and honestly, we all are doing that right now). I'm angry that it's been three days, and it's felt like three years, and nothing's even really happened yet.

I'm beyond pissed at Giuliani, Gingrich, Pence, and others who rode the coattails of vitriol gleefully into power. I'm pissed at other GOP leaders who were more concerned with their seats and preserving them than calling out bigotry all along. I'm mad at the entire GOP Congress who refused to vote on Merrick's appointment, because they knew that that spot was going to be their carrot to push along Evangelical turnout. And boy did they line up.

I'm angry that I don't know how to fix it. That I keep telling myself to do small things, to have small conversations, and to act kindly and love deeply. And it still feels impossible.

I'm mad too for all the supporters who voted for him for goals that I actually would agree with--bringing back jobs and supporting the middle class who have been left behind, and for cleaning up corruption. I'm mad that we aren't going to get those at all, and mad that they didn't see that coming, that they were duped. That three days later, their candidate organizes the same old power-hungry people as advisors...that he's going to strip away the protections that we had, and that things are going to get worse for all of us most likely. Not just on the social issues front, but on the economic ones as well, as the last vestiges of protections for workers over corporations get stripped away. And I'm mad as hell that that will somehow get spun too.

I'm mad at the media and social media. I'm angry that people have to comfort their kids and tell them that they won't be deported, while feeling doubtful and scared themselves.

I don't know how to make this anger constructive, so I try to spit it out like poison. Not everywhere. Just in some spaces. Here. Tumblr. Twitter. And it's cooling down, hardening into something else...something more like cynicism, apathy, resentment.

For as much as there's a gaping maw in the center of my being, trying to absorb all the pain and bear it somehow...maybe there's still a hell of a lot of anger soon.

More than anything, I need communion. Last week I was angry at (mostly hurt by) my priest, but that seems so far in the past that it has none of its force anymore. Now I just want to come, heavy-laden and drink from the cup. I need "Christmas Lent" (aka the Nativity Fast) this year, and it starts in three days. I can't remember the last time I felt like I needed something from the church. I've been running from it sometimes, without wanting to admit it to myself. But I feel desperate and needy, and I hate that and am angry at it too. But I think that somehow God is big enough. I hope.

+Athena