Is anyone else feeling like this election has completely taken over their life? My anxiety levels have skyrocketed, I wake up at odd hours with my heart racing, and I find myself snapping at my loved ones more often. Each time I switch on the radio or scroll through social media, I feel my blood pressure spike. In the past month, I’ve visited the liquor store more times than I care to admit, and the owners look both worn out and oddly cheerful.
As I write this, I’m stress-eating my kids’ Halloween treats while obsessively checking FiveThirtyEight. Donald certainly isn’t making America great again; it feels more like he’s turning us into a nation of anxious snackers.
I can already envision historians labeling our collective meltdown once this all wraps up. Perhaps they’ll even concoct a new category in the DSM for the mental turmoil this election cycle has inflicted on us, particularly those of us who are already anxious (raises hand). It’s as if we’re all trying to claw our way out of a massive pit filled with fear, ignorance, and disillusionment.
The most troubling aspect of all this is the profound sadness I’ve been experiencing. I see people I care about—good-hearted individuals—blindly supporting a chaotic figure, and it genuinely frightens me for humanity as a whole. I long for this nightmare to end.
Here are a few examples of how I’ve been handling the pressure poorly:
- I read yet another ridiculous statement from Donald at a rally and suddenly find myself chewing my nails.
- I hide yet another friend on social media due to their relentless spread of misinformation, while I ponder if that mid-day beer is a smart idea.
- I tune into a podcast and hear that a significant portion of Americans still believe Obama is a Muslim. Really?! I begin to fantasize about moving to Canada.
- I refresh the FiveThirtyEight polls for the umpteenth time today, munching on a donut—okay, maybe a box of donuts. Who’s counting?
- I see friends dressing up as Hillary in prison attire for Halloween and worry about their future, their children’s future, and how we seem to occupy entirely different realities.
- I watch footage from Trump rallies and fret about the escalating behavior of his supporters if he loses. I start practicing my breathing exercises.
- I read the newspaper only to find that some people doubt fact-checkers whose job is to verify facts. I slam the paper down, bake some pumpkin bread, and then devour the whole thing before anyone else arrives home.
- I catch comedy shows where even the comedians struggle to find humor in this election. I yell at my kids to tidy their rooms, take showers, or do anything—anything—to give me some space because my patience is running thin.
- I witness arguments erupting in the comments section of every political post. I want to scream at everyone to take a step back and think before they type. Then, I pour myself a glass of wine; those comments drive me to drink.
- My five-year-old asks if the “bad man” is gone yet. Even she can sense the tension. I contemplate enrolling her in karate classes so she can defend herself against people like him. Don’t even think about touching her—she’ll take you down!
- I hear whispers that he might refuse to concede if he loses. I’m grateful that I don’t live next to any of his supporters.
Clearly, I’m not handling this well, and I suspect I’m not alone in this struggle. For the next week, I declare a temporary truce: let’s give each other some grace and room to be irritable until this is all over. After that, we can go back to reconnecting with our friends’ posts and start stressing about holiday preparations, like normal people.
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