TDS A Biden Win Won’t Cure My Trump-Era Depression (In case you were a little confused about what a snowflake is.)

Cacheman

Veteran Member
It is because of people like this that I want so much to see Trump win. The meltdown will be epic and I can't wait to see it.




Opinion | A Biden Win Won’t Cure My Trump-Era Depression
By Mychal Denzel Smith

6-8 minutes


Opinion|A Biden Win Won’t Cure My Trump-Era Depression

I find hope and relief from my misery in things that have nothing to do with the election.



Credit...Brian Stauffer

When I was 12 years old, my cousin was killed. I started having trouble sleeping.

Looking back, that’s when my depression took hold. I couldn’t concentrate in school, and my grades slipped. I lost interest in friendships.

From that year until my early adulthood, every spring, around the anniversary of my cousin’s death, my despondency would return. My panic attacks started when I was 16; I waited until I was of legal age to add an unhealthy relationship with alcohol to the mix.

Through therapy, I’ve become good at recognizing the signs of depression and warding off the worst of its effects. I can note my own social withdrawal, recognize that I have slipped deeper into an overwhelming sadness and correct some very basic things in my life — diet, exercise, sleep, returning phone calls — to help me get back to normal.

Since the day Donald Trump was elected, this hasn’t worked.

I know I’m not alone. According to the American Psychiatric Association, in 2017, 36 percent of adults described themselves as feeling more anxious than they did the previous year. Also in 2017, more than 17 million American adults and three million Americans between the ages of 12 and 17 had at least one major depressive episode. A psychologist, Jennifer Panning, has even assigned a name to mental health problems attributed to this presidency: Trump Anxiety Disorder.

Some of us broke four years ago and haven’t recovered. Along with so many others, I had to ask myself what it meant to live in a system that allowed for a proudly racist and sexist representative of the capitalist class to seize presidential power. I mourned for the younger version of myself that had cast his first vote for the first Black presidential candidate on a major party ticket and had his cynicism challenged when that candidate actually won. (This sets the stage for all the rest of the essay.)

In the beginning, I tried taking up Muay Thai, thinking that the endorphins and supposedly healthy space to place my anger would be able to buoy me. But as much fun as it was to strap on gloves and beat a heavy bag, I lost interest within a couple of months and gave in to my desire to do nothing. I saw all the familiar signs: I wasn’t answering phone calls. I was taking days and weeks to respond to texts, if I responded at all. I slept infrequently, fitful and afraid. (I wish I could feel bad that President Trump has broken so many liberals, but I can't. I'm really enjoying their pain.)


I know well that this moment in history is not an aberration. But I’m haunted by thoughts of the tens of thousands of migrant children who have been held in detention and away from their families, 100-degree days in Siberia, people dying alone of Covid-19 and the astronomical infection rates among American Indians and Black Americans. I feel an overwhelming sense of powerlessness.
No, I never assumed that in my lifetime we would defeat the entrenched forces of white supremacist heteropatriarchal capitalism. (WTF is that? And not capitalizing the w is a micro aggression! ) But I had come around to believing that a slow, frustrating but ultimately sustainable victory and all the jubilation that would come along with it was something my friends’ children might someday experience.

That sense of possibility has largely dissipated. I am afraid every single day — of wildfires in California, of hurricanes on the Gulf Coast, of the police and ICE, of going to the grocery store in a pandemic, of Electoral College math. (Where do we send a MAGA gift basket or something to cheer the poor thing up?)

When I can’t sleep, I think of the time I walked by a Planned Parenthood center in New York City and watched a person affix a cross to the side of the building and pray over it — a reminder of how reproductive rights remain under attack and are in danger of being whittled down to nothing. I think of how Breonna Taylor didn’t even see the police coming. I think of how I lost my great-aunt to Covid-19. (Thanks to the Governor's nursing home policies, perhaps?)

I feel fragile.
(Can you imagine spending any time with this "fragile" loser?)

But as the election approaches, I know I can’t rely on a President Biden to cure my Trump-era depression. If he wins, it will simply represent a return to the normalcy favored by Democrats and the lie of American unity. A Biden presidency would not bring with it the same level of incompetence-meets-evil that we have suffered under the Trump administration. But without an agenda aimed at radically transforming (or in some cases eliminating altogether) the institutions that have caused so much harm, the best we can hope for is four years of bipartisan compromises that leave us facing the same challenges. Electing Mr. Biden is, at this point, a necessary measure to beat back the worst of the Trump era, but it is hardly a balm in and of itself. (Stop biting the pillow.)

So when I’m briefly able to shake loose my sense of dread, it’s not tied to a fantasy about Nov. 4. Instead, it’s a result of the hope I’ve found in pockets: the teenagers who lead climate marches; the protests at the border against family separation; the defeat of new prison construction; the ending of cash bail; a brand-new nationwide call to defund and abolish the police; and a tide of progressive lawmakers elected to local and national offices, from New York to St. Louis. The systems of mutual aid that have formed in response to the pandemic. It may be the largest protest movement in this nation’s history. (And hopefully they end themselves before they can end us.)

I can imagine coming out of this depression when I think of examples of people acting together to make the world better and fairer for themselves, but also for strangers. It’s not unlike when I have to make myself return texts and phone calls — I can lift myself out of misery by remembering that I’m part of a collective. And that we care about one another. (Not enough Thorazine in the world for these maniacs on Nov 4th when Trump wins in a landslide.)

This is perhaps the greatest lesson of the Trump era for me, one worth repeating to myself every day even when this presidency is a distant memory: We need one another. We need the bonds of community, political solidarity and collective action if there is any chance of alleviating the darkness of this era. We can prevail — we can protect our democracy, our planet and our emotional well-being — only if we do so together. (I think we'll have to put some of these people on suicide watch when President Trump wins a second term.)

On good days, I can see that happening. I can look through the fog of this Trump-era depression and imagine what could be next — regardless of who wins the election — and feel almost giddy.




I wish I could feel bad that President Trump has broken so many liberals, but I can't. I'm really enjoying their pain.

BTW, is it ok to be a racist heteropatriarchal capitalist as long as you aren't white?
 
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Dennis Olson

Chief Curmudgeon
_______________
I find hope and relief from my misery in things that have nothing to do with the election.
When I was 12 years old, my cousin was killed. I started having trouble sleeping.

Looking back, that’s when my depression took hold.
From that year until my early adulthood, every spring, around the anniversary of my cousin’s death, my despondency would return. My panic attacks started when I was 16; I waited until I was of legal age to add an unhealthy relationship with alcohol to the mix.
This person was “broken” at a very young age. He’ll never be mentally stable. People with his emotional trauma look to external events to rationalize how they feel. In truth, all the therapy in the world won’t help this guy.

My first love, who’s a year older than me, has been going to weekly therapy sessions for THIRTY YEARS. People like that can’t close the door on the past and move on and/or can’t cope with the pressures of everyday life. That’s a NECESSARY part of being healthy emotionally. Some people just can’t do it.

Now, back to reading the essay. I want to see how deep in denial the stupid moron is...
 

Josie

Has No Life - Lives on TB
I mourned for the younger version of myself that had cast his first vote for the first Black presidential candidate on a major party ticket and had his cynicism challenged when that candidate actually won.
Well, I mourn for the life I had before that fake black president.

There are people in this world that will never be happy no matter what. Here is one of them.
 

The Hammer

Veteran Member
Then it'll be a Biden-era depression.

The person in the article no doubt has some deep issues, but in general, the snowflakes don't take any individual responsibility. It's all about the collective. And victimhood. They think if everyone was forced to think and act the same way and provide them their safe spaces, all would be better.

They're actually totally self-centered.
 

Kathy in FL

Has No Life - Lives on TB
Just how much of a moron is the writer? My Lord, they should just go out, dig their grave, and jump in head first hopefully breaking their neck on impact.

Sound insensitive or cruel? It's not. What kind of mental health professional have they been seeing that after elventy years of therapy they are a bigger walking poster child for mental health problems than they were when they started? They've missed how many reality checks along life's narrow way?

People like this will never be happy because they refuse to take the opportunities that are presented to them. If your life is so frelling hard and miserable then off yourself and get it over with. Just stop blaming everyone else for your own shortcomings. When they were a kid that is one thing but they've been an adult for a while and willingly picked up that first glass and knocked it back. They are their own worst enemy and that's who they need to be blaming, not Trump and not anyone else either. Damn but what a selfish immature slob.
 

The Hammer

Veteran Member
Just how much of a moron is the writer? My Lord, they should just go out, dig their grave, and jump in head first hopefully breaking their neck on impact.

Sound insensitive or cruel? It's not. What kind of mental health professional have they been seeing that after elventy years of therapy they are a bigger walking poster child for mental health problems than they were when they started? They've missed how many reality checks along life's narrow way?

People like this will never be happy because they refuse to take the opportunities that are presented to them. If your life is so frelling hard and miserable then off yourself and get it over with. Just stop blaming everyone else for your own shortcomings. When they were a kid that is one thing but they've been an adult for a while and willingly picked up that first glass and knocked it back. They are their own worst enemy and that's who they need to be blaming, not Trump and not anyone else either. Damn but what a selfish immature slob.
As with many things, you have to want to get better to have the chance to get better. But if these folks don't really want that, if they'd rather wallow in self-pity and whatever else, there are more than enough "mental health professionals" willing to string them along, for a fee, for as long as they need it...
 

To-late

Senior Member
This writer is what you get when you cut funding for mental health lock up facilities. But the writer describes very well what we are seeing in the rioters.
A group of mentally disturbed people allowed to run free. subsidized by money from other mental defectives.
No offense ment toward mental health defectives.
Like cockroaches they come out at night and infest everything they touch. And then scurrying back to their nest when the sun comes out.
Like cockroaches they need to be followed back to the nest and dealt with.
 

mudlogger

Veteran Member
I've had a female friend for 15 years. She's been in therapy and medicated for 30 years. Anxiety. Stupid husband.

She left the husband exactly 2 years ago, and had 1.5 years of Jean therapy, and made so much progress...she is independent, more self-assured, and in her words, "an adult finally." Meds are now down to 1, and a half dose at that.

No pussy-footing around, lots of God talk, Reason has to drive the car, your anxiety didn't make him an ahole, etc.

Thirty years of therapy, and the only tool they gave her was to keep a rubber band on her wrist and pop herself when needed. I asked if it worked, answer was No.
 

Jeff B.

What is left when honor is lost?
We need the bonds of community, political solidarity and collective action if there is any chance of alleviating the darkness of this era.
What a weak, sniveling, useless piss ant.

Life is tough, that's the way it is for most people. Even for those who have many advantages, things aren't as easy as we'd sometimes like to think.

I know it's totally un-PC, but "man the **** up!"

Jeff B.
 

jazzy

Advocate Discernment
what a whimpering self centered narcissistic self important pampered twinkie, they have no idea what real misery is. go live in cuba, Venezuela or china or anyplace in africa then come back in a year and tell me what a hellhole we are. they dont know anything about the real world.

im so tired of these children for life. they have no idea how easy life here is for them if they got off their ass and did something besides complain. im seriously losing my patience and generally sweet nature.
 

DazedandConfused

Veteran Member
I've had a female friend for 15 years. She's been in therapy and medicated for 30 years. Anxiety. Stupid husband.

She left the husband exactly 2 years ago, and had 1.5 years of Jean therapy, and made so much progress...she is independent, more self-assured, and in her words, "an adult finally." Meds are now down to 1, and a half dose at that.

No pussy-footing around, lots of God talk, Reason has to drive the car, your anxiety didn't make him an ahole, etc.

Thirty years of therapy, and the only tool they gave her was to keep a rubber band on her wrist and pop herself when needed. I asked if it worked, answer was No.
I think I dated her for a bit, you should have been there the day the rubber band broke.
 

Warthog

Has No Life - Lives on TB
This person was “broken” at a very young age. He’ll never be mentally stable. People with his emotional trauma look to external events to rationalize how they feel. In truth, all the therapy in the world won’t help this guy.

My first love, who’s a year older than me, has been going to weekly therapy sessions for THIRTY YEARS. People like that can’t close the door on the past and move on and/or can’t cope with the pressures of everyday life. That’s a NECESSARY part of being healthy emotionally. Some people just can’t do it.

Now, back to reading the essay. I want to see how deep in denial the stupid moron is...
Maybe some Latuda could help that mental condition! It does on the TV commercials.:crz::lol:
 
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