When Trump won in 2016, I went into grim mode.

I didn’teven realize it at the time; it started as a stoic “I will survive” attitude. Or rather, MOST of us would survive; I realized even back then that people would suffer, and some wouldn’t make it. I had a vague sense of what was coming, but it was worse than I expected. It was worse than a lot of us expected.

It wasn’t long before I recognized this core, the feeling of “grim.” Every successive Trump bullshit episode added another layer. Every ridiculous but entrenched defense of his cruelty solidified my bleak expectations of that corrupt administration and its adherents.

The outright racism of his early attacks on Muslims deepened it.

Family separation at the border deepened it.

COVID deepened it.

The increasing cult-like behavior of the MAGA folk deepened it.

The familiarity of the racism, the sexism, the frenetic right-wing christianity, the bigotry, the fear — all of that aspect of MAGA extremism cemented the core of grim, increased my resolute commitment to just fucking getting through this mess.

It was a big relief when Biden won, but I knew it wasn’t over yet. I knew Trump’s MAGA base would not give up. I didn’t expect Jan. 6th, but I knew they were deep into their delusion, and the rest of us would pay for it. Are still paying for it. Will continue to pay for it.

It’s going to take at least a generation; probably a few generations to get through this.

Grim.

But what else am I to do but walk through this mess? I don’t know any other way to be. So. To the present. Or sort of.

Anyway, Trump loses the 2020 election, refuses to admit it, Impeachment Two Insurrection Boogaloo happens, the GOP waffles on their initial outrage, and we’re treated to the high likelyhood that, as with the very revealing Mueller Investigation that was not quite able to hold Trump accountable, maybe he’s gonna skate on all this too! All around me, my friends are outraged that no one will throw this fool in jail. Merrick Garland receives a lot of their wrath; they’re tearing tehir hair out, shaking their fists, protesting the unfairness of it all.

But I’ve just been grim. I don’t expect things to move fast; I don’t expect things to work out perfectly. I’m crossing my fingers, but (grimly) not counting on much of anything.

And now we arrive at Arraignment Day – on his THIRD set of indictments. Am I happy? There’s a certain exhilaration to seeing Jack Smith and team work diligently to hold Trump accountable. There’s a certain satisfaction to watching team Trump freaking out. And I’ve done my share of laughing my ass off at the ridiculousness of Trump and Company’s response to all this.

But I’m not happy about it. That our nation should sink to this point, that a president would sink this low, that such a large contingent of willing idiots ignore law and logic to support their authoritarian vision — it all just makes me heartsick. Depressed. Grim. But not despondent; somehow that core of somber realism keeps me centered, moving forward. I don’t understand it, but I’m willing to roll with it.

Grim has kept me strong. Grim has kept me from melting. And Grim will get me through this too.

[Crossposted on my Substack blog]