You Take The Fucking High Road and Shove It…

Yesterday gave me a faint hint of what it must be like to have a mood disorder. I started off the day buoyed by a Facebook feed full of inspirational Pantsuit Nation posts and moving video feeds from Susan B. Anthony’s graveside. This was going to be the day I’ve been waiting my whole voting life for – a woman was going to be President. In a nod to the suffragettes I voted wearing a petticoat instead of a pantsuit like so many other women.

While I was nervous, because really, who wasn’t? I thought my bourbon fueled evening was going to end in glorious drunken celebration. Instead, after a fuckton of liquor I went to bed before it was over.  I couldn’t watch the guys on CNN fuck with the maps any more trying to make sense of why all their predictions were as wrong as the clusterfuck that was unfolding. When I went to bed there was still a path to a narrow victory. I woke up at 3AM and asked my husband how it had ended up, and then sobbed for the next hour. (New rule in our house indicates that crying needs to happen before bed, not once the other party is asleep.)

Now I’ve liked Obama well enough, but I’m not going to lie, I was disappointed 8 years ago that we were electing another man, historic as his appointment was, I wanted a goddamn woman to be President.  We’re not only due one, we’re overdue for one. Nations with lower opinions of women than the US have had female leaders.  I’m not a dyed in the wool feminist, but fuck me we’re just as fucking qualified to run this country and Hillary was overqualified to be the first female President. And no I don’t want to hear your bullshit conspiracy theories about her, or that she’s evil, blah, blah, blah. Most of the people spewing that shit haven’t got a clue why they think that any more than we have the slightest clue how Trump is going to “make America great again.” You just like the way it sounds in your own head.

Yesterday, my country broke up with me based upon the rumours, innuendos, and lies told by a lot of angry old white men for the last 30 years.  God am I tired of angry old white men. My whole life they’ve been trying to tell me what I can and can’t do. What my limitations are, making decisions for me, and spending way too much fucking time worrying about what I do with my twat.  Sweet Mother of Cheezits get a new fucking hobby?

This morning well meaning friends, bloggers, reporters and social media tried to tell me to take the high road.  That the world isn’t ending.  That there are limits to the damage that the angry old white men can do in the next four years.  They showed me pretty maps that said that the future will be better because all the 18-25 year olds voted democratic. (I’m pretty sure Snopes will be calling bullshit on this for years to come.) They warned me that unfriending people who differ in opinion with me won’t accomplish anything. Guess what? I don’t care. If you threw your vote away to “protest” you should be cunt punted for being stupid.  Guess what? Some of those votes had the chance to make a difference.  Your vote does in fact matter. You shouldn’t be allowed to vote if you don’t understand and appreciate that simple fucking fact.  If you voted for Trump intentionally because you want what he represents then you and I have very little in common in our core beliefs and I’m not totally sure you and I should be friends to begin with. If you stop seeing my snark in your Facebook feed consider this your explanation.

This is how the future voted. This is what people 18-25 said in casting their votes. We must keep this flame alight and nurture this vision. pic.twitter.com/ivuXrar869

— Eliza Byard (@EByard) November 9, 2016

Well, guess what? I don’t want to take the motherfucking high road.  Right now I don’t even want to know where it is located.  Don’t fucking program it into my Waze.  Y’all want to be hopeful, y’all go right ahead. That’s your business, but not this girl.  I’m sad. I’m disappointed as fuck in my country.  I’m completely disillusioned by the electoral process. I’m afraid for people I love who are people of colour, LGBT, women, or trapped in communities where their beliefs are in the minority. I’m ashamed that my nieces and nephews are going to have to watch this epic world altering clusterfuck unfold and have it shape their futures. I’m angry that I’m going to be forced to listen to that arrogant ignorant prick for the next 4 years.  That he will appoint the worst of the worst to the positions of power.  I’m terrified of the fact that he will have the nuclear codes.  And gawd… his smug fucking children? We’re going to have to hear and see them gloat – because you know they will.

But more than I’m afraid of what HE will do, I’m afraid what the people who think he’s so fabulous will do. Many of them will take this as tacit approval to turn off the few filters they have in place and just unleash all their pent up hate. Sure, eventually they will realize that all the reasons they voted him into power were wrong – they won’t have jobs, they will pay higher taxes, and without insurance they won’t be able to afford to pay the ER bill for the 3rd degree burns they got at a cross burning.  But they will have plenty of time to wreak havoc on the country before they get that slap in the face.  Which I will enjoy. Immensely.

So, with this in mind, you’ll pardon me if I ask you to keep your hopefulness to yourself. Enjoy it all you want.  Do what you need to get through this.  Take the fucking high road.  Me? I’m gonna stew in bourbon and wallow in pity for a lot longer. It’s my fucking right.