Hi all,
Gonna be candid that for me at least, being a trans American these days can feel overwhelming and bizarre and sad. Millions of dollars are being poured into transphobic ads being played in swing states right now, as you’re maybe aware. I read numbers of how many millions have been spent— an estimated $21 million here, an estimated $50 million there.
My head despairs about this. My sleep’s been fitful and nightmarish. In public, I’ve found myself on edge. I even nearly had a panic attack while driving the other day, something I’ve spent the last few years carefully avoiding having happen (again).
That time when I did have a panic attack driving was four years ago, the fall of 2020, during the lead up to the last presidential election. I was going 55 MPH when the panic attack began and was fortunately able to pull over before I was fully incapacitated and the situation might have been much worse. The experience was nonetheless terrifying and scared me off driving for a few years. This year I’ve regained courage to drive once more, and do so with caution.
Once again, yards and houses and businesses boast Trump flags and signs. Only now the flags in support of him are all the more zealous, all the more full of rage. This time, when the panic attack threatened as I drove, I pulled over before things got to an actually bad place, my relationship with my anxiety much changed.
I will also say, where I live in rural upstate New York, there is much more visible Democratic support than I have seen in my seven years here. Many more Harris Walz signs than I’d ever expect to see in these parts. Even some “Republicans for Harris Walz” signs (!).
Driving around this region right now, there are also lots of signs in favor of and against an equal rights amendment on our ballot in New York State. The signs against it lean on thinly-veiled transphobia. Some refer to ‘protecting parental rights.’ Others say ‘Protect Girls’ Sports.’
I admit that seeing these signs all over my community dispirits me. These signs make me feel unwelcome. They make me feel afraid. I try to remind myself that the vast majority of people who are voting for Trump or feel they agree with such signs, they probably do not know much about actual trans people. They probably would feel differently if they knew we aren’t some hypothetical bogeyman. Rather for example if they had a conversation with me, their literal neighbor, they’d probably see I’m just a person who just wants to live my life (same as them, I assume).
I nonetheless worry about all this transphobia that’s been pumped into peoples’ screens and eyes this election cycle, all this hate that’s been encouraged in so many minds and hearts. All that hate won’t just disappear, I fear, regardless of the tomorrow’s outcome.
What’s Helping Today:
1,107 consecutive days of meditation
Drinking water
Soaking in hot water
Crying
Coffee
Weed
Walks
Hiking, for example recently hiking the tallest peak in the Catskills.
Last week, making three sorts of vegetarian soups and also some loaves of bread for a friend who’s recovering from surgery.
Being extra fastidious about all my usual daily self-care whatnot — as much as I can be, anyway, during this mega stressful time.
Especially JournalSpeak, the unfiltered writing practice (and preamble to meditation) I am frequently recommending here.
Also being kind to myself if I don’t get to all these self-care practices every day. Forgiving imperfection in myself, or trying to. As JournalSpeak creator Nicole Sachs often says, a pillar of this work is having patience and kindness for ourselves.
The really top-notch veterinarian I was able to take my dog to last week when he had an emergency. (He is okay!!)
This season of The Great British Bake Off
Texts and voice messages and calls from friends
And hanging out with friends IRL
Each and every day I am grateful the decision I made, over 7 years ago, to quit alcohol. I’m grateful I’ve stuck with that choice every day since, particularly during times such as these (when no doubt some part of me would like to drown in gin martinis or a bottle of good bourbon).
I’m profoundly lucky to work with arguably one of the best ‘mental health’ professionals on earth. Who he is and what we do together is a whole matter that I’m discussing in this book I am slowly writing about the future of mental health care. Suffice to say, I’m always very grateful I get to work with him, and especially glad that we could meet this morning.
Singing at the piano, playing Joni and Billie Eilish and Chappell Roan.
Stress baking lemon poppyseed muffins and chocolate chip cookies.
You all, and I mean it genuinely: You supporting my work by subscribing here, by reading my stuff, it does mean so much to me. I can sometimes feel so sad and discouraged given the state of the society and media and much else. So thank you.
Kind messages from readers responding to my new feature about electroshock. For example this one: “I just finished reading your ECT piece in The Believer - so well written and thorough and important. I, too, live with a complicated head, ‘caught between this life and something,’ and ultimately choosing life (although mostly in the form of Dar Williams’ words on it: ‘And when I chose to live/ There was no joy it's just a line I crossed/ It wasn't worth the pain my death would cost’)…”
Today’s episode of We Can Do Hard Things with Pete Buttigieg, which I recommend if you are feeling despair.
Having voted early last week.
I’ve been debating whether to even write you all. My own despairing head weighs whether anything I might say here matters now (or ever). And perhaps it doesn’t. And yet, I dunno, here I am, saying hey to you all anyway. I do hope you hang in there.
Feel free to reach out, if you like; perhaps tell me what’s helping you get through this week.
Love,
Sandy
p.s. Once again, here was the link to the Believer piece. Thanks to those of you who read it.
p.p.p.s. Here’s a very chill playlist I made called “sometimes life is hard and so we should help each other.”