It happened again this morning.
It starts with an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, then grows into chills right up my spine. I go into ‘fight or flight’ mode- not knowing what I am fighting or where I am fleeing to. I try to sit and just let it pass, but lately I am getting more and more annoyed that I am feeling this way at all.
Years ago, I escaped and survived an abusive relationship. I left a life with the clothes on my back and what I could fit in a suitcase. I went to a shelter where I was able to find ‘me’ again and continue on with my life.
But the sick reality of how I got there in the first place still haunts me today. How I ignored the early warning signs. How I allowed someone to slowly strip away everything good about me until I didn't recognize the woman in the mirror.
This is what the republicans are doing to our country. And each time they do, all the pain and misery that I felt during that time of my life comes back.
This morning, I read that Mitch McConnell blamed the Democrats for not cooperating with the republicans on the horrid health care bill. “THEY WERE SHUT OUT!” I screamed inside. How can you place blame on something that didn’t happen? And with a straight face and strong conviction?
Crazy making. And it succeeds. How many of us feel like insanity has taken root? That even in a debate where you know you have all the facts, and you believe that facts should speak for themselves, you are faced with convictions so set in lies and propaganda, that their arguments leave you floored?
I am only one of three liberal/Democrats in my family. There are a number of very vocal Trump lovers, a few Christian conservatives and some “I hate politics” head in the sanders. Two have unfriended me on Facebook, which hurt for awhile. One, I had to block, which left me feeling sick for a longer while. I’m at the point where I want to avoid any political discussion because I can’t stand the way it makes me feel. Vunerable. Shaky. Raw.
I look at pictures of Mitch McConnell and I react the same way as I would if I saw a picture of my abuser. And I fantasize about wiping that smirk off his face by beating him to a pulp. What else can I do?
The triggers will keep on coming until someone- or more than one someone- or a whole bunch of someones- stand up and say enough. Like I did.
Don’t see it happening any time soon.