On Elections

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The unfolding electoral events are personal to me, a microcosm of my life.

They are personal because I am a survivor of domestic violence and I am still dealing with my own ‘Donald Trump.’ Donald may be loud and brash and my ex cold and calculating, but underneath that plated gold veneer they are the both the same.

For many years I have seen smart, polite, educated people accept and respect my ex because of his demeanor and financial resources, all the while completely ignoring the misogyny, psychological manipulations, intolerance and bigotry.

When the world was shocked by the personal insults flowing from Donald Trump, by how naturally he takes it for granted that his lies are truths, I wasn’t.

I know that it is second nature for narcissists to desire power at the expense of others, to lack the ability to apologize or accept criticism, to instinctively come to anger when feeling slighted, to trample on anyone or anything which they see as standing in their way.

I have lived, for what seems like forever, with the demoralizing feeling that the rest of the world is tilted. I keep waiting for everyone else to understand how crazy and dysfunctional these sort of people are, keep waiting for that overwhelming feeling to finally melt away.

I could tell you a million stories of the moments of my life which mirror things that Donald Trump has said and done. I could but I can’t, because talking makes those memories real, and it is ever so much easier to just lock them away.

You are just beginning to get a glimpse of my sort of hell, and I hate it just as much as you do.