The Five Stages Of Grief, Donald Trump Edition


So, Donald Trump is going to be the next president of the United States. Yeah. What the hell. Completely unbelievable. Terrifying, devastating, and embarrassing. In the past 24 hours, I have felt more emotion than I have in a long time, about anything. The last time I came close to crying this hard was when Zayn left One Direction. So yeah, this shit is serious. As I was driving to work today, I had the thought that maybe I was going through the 5 stages of grief due to the result of this election. I decided it could be therapeutic to try to write out what I’ve felt, so here it is.

Stage 1: Denial

I have been in denial for so long, it’s basically my constant state of being. Ever since there were the first rumors that Donald Trump was going to run for president I was in denial. Because that’s a big fucking joke! Right? I mean, this reality TV star that made his name on being a huge bag of dicks to everyone around him was not going to actually run for president. No way. Well… Shit. That actually happened. Watching the election coverage, large glass of wine in one hand and my other hand nervously squeezing/breaking my cousins fingers, I was still in denial. There was no way he was gonna beat Hillary Clinton! Like her or not (and I do like her, very much), it’s undeniable that she is more prepared and qualified for the highest office of the land. I just knew, in my heart, that the American people weren’t as bad or as stupid as they seemed. They would pull through, they’d elect the right person. Ha. Ha.

Stage 2: Anger

Holy shit this stage hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so angry in my life. At some point last night, during the hour-long drive back to my house, my tears dried up and my expression was stony as I drove. I felt my mind go numb as the heat of rage washed through me. To all the Americans who voted for Trump, how fucking dare you. How fucking DARE you support someone who so openly hates, degrades, assaults, and mocks POC’s, women, immigrants, Muslims, disabled people, and the LGTB+ community? How can you vote for someone whose running mate actually believes in using electric shock therapy on gay people until it “makes them straight”? How can you stand there and say some of my closest friends and loved ones deserve to be SHOCKED until they stop being who they are? Which is impossible, by the way, and also fuck you. It is infuriating that this has happened. I am astounded, because Donald Trump says he is going to “make America great again.” Excuse me, but are you saying America isn’t already great? I’d like to point out that if Hillary Clinton, or god forbid, Barack Obama, had ever said anything along the lines of America not being great, Republicans would have absolutely shit their khakis. The hypocrisy is astounding. The outcome of this election is astounding. I was, and still am, deeply angry.

Stage 3: Bargaining

Lawd. This stage has been a doozy. I would sell my soul to a crossroads demon right fucking now if it would change the outcome of this election. My atheist ass would accept Christ as my lord and savior if he could do something about the shit show that is this country. I would start eating kale for every meal if Hillary would just become my president. I would do ANYTHING, dammit. As I watched the votes for Trump rolling in (again, wtf, people actually voted for Trump), my mind was racing. “Will they have to do a recount? Will they please do a recount? Can we get rid of the Electoral College like, right now? Maybe there will be a ruling saying Trump can’t legally be our president because he’s a huge douche wad? Maybe Trump will say never mind, he doesn’t wanna be president?” Shit like that continued to run through my mind all day. I’ve been begging the sky for something, anything, to please happen so Donald Trump doesn’t become the president of the United States. I don’t want to raise my dogs in a country run by Donald Trump! I guess people with human children probably feel the same. It’s not fair, lordy lord, help me, please, god, fuck, shit, please no no no no no no no nooooooo. Fuck.

Stage 4: Depression

This one is serious y’all. Not that the other stages aren’t serious, because they are, but I, and a lot of other people, are feeling this one extra hard. This HURTS. It hurts my heart. I am deeply saddened by the fact that a man who has such hatred in his hard can be our president. It hurts that he was very vocal and very loud about said hatred, and even still, people voted for him. People that I love, family members, voted for him. They said, “Ya know, I love people who are women, who are LGTB, who are nonwhite. But fuck all of them! Fuck everything they care about, fuck their mental health, fuck their safety. I can’t have a president who deleted emails.” So yeah, that makes me extremely sad. It makes me sad that such a large portion of my fellow Americans think that way. It makes me sad that if they don’t think that way but still voted for Trump, that they are uneducated and ignorant. It makes me sad that so many women have such deeply rooted internalized misogyny and actively voted to oppress themselves and their sisters. I cried into a bottle (or two) of wine last night. My cousin and I sobbed in each other’s arms. I held my dogs and wept. I did every synonym of the word cry, and I thought I was out of tears. And then tonight, I was eating pizza with my roommate as we discussed the election. My tired eyes once again filled with tears as I tried to make a joke about how I felt when I realized Trump was going to be the president. When I’m not crying, I am numb. I caught myself staring at a blank wall at work today, exhausted, scared, and upset from the events the night before. I don’t think these feelings will go away anytime soon. And people will say that’s dramatic, and while I could write another entire essay on why you can’t say people are just “being dramatic” about this, I won’t. Think it’s dramatic if you want. I think it’s kinda dramatic when y’all have a meltdown over a football player sitting during the national anthem, or Michelle Obama trying to get kids to eat a god damned carrot at lunch, or Starbucks not putting a snowflake on their cup. But anyway, back to my point. I’m fucking sad. A lot of people are sad. And that won’t be going away anytime soon.

Stage 5: Acceptance

Can’t relate. I’ll get back to you on that.

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