Law LGBT Racism Rights Sexism

Fine

For weeks now, most of my sisters and brothers and I have been holding our breath. I am not sure we knew it, but we were. We didn’t stop doing the work, speaking out, ripping off scabs to publicly reveal our wounds, begging to be heard, crying out for a better choice – there are literally thousands – for Kennedy’s SCOTUS seat, the one that was vacated under suspicious circumstances.

Today, our worst fears are realized.

The GOP voted “yes” for Brett Kavanaugh knowing he’s out for some kind of revenge, knowing he’s unstable and partisan, knowing he is volatile and a drunk and a liar, knowing he’s a sexual predator. Some of that is the point actually. They know he’ll protect their idiot leader. They’re thrilled he intends to strip away protections and rights of women, native peoples, LGBTQ, workers. They know he means to screw the majority of America. Pun intended. This is the GOP plan. Fuck the rest of us. Sometimes literally.

I’m going to admit that I had some hope. I did. I said it. Silly me.

We did it right. We said the right things. We were careful to use the right tone, to be just assertive enough but also subservient enough so that these pigs might recognize our humanity. We tried not to get ourselves alone, into a vulnerable position, but most of the time with these deplorable human beings, no matter what you do, they fuck you. And they blame you for it. They say we “had it coming.”

I haven’t been able to exhale, yet. I know that when I do, it’ll come out as sobbing, wailing, for what is lost. I don’t cry for me. It’s too late for me; I was a survivor before. I will go on. No, I cry for their future victims. This lament will be for the children.

Now I’ve showered. I’ve begun the process – maybe you know the one I mean? – where I stand in the hot water, scrub and rub at my skin until it’s raw in a vain effort to scour their stench, their filth, off of me. I try to make it go away for me, for my brothers, for my sisters. Because nobody else will help us. And I try to think of a way to make it stop, not just for me, but for the next victims of their attacks. I’ll tuck this away with the others. I’ll put a smile on my face, pretend nothing is wrong, and I’ll think. I’ll wait.

Don’t ask me what’s wrong. I’m fine. Don’t ask me because it’s bubbling, and it’s just barely beneath the surface. This calm exterior hides a rage most men cannot fathom – for me, for my sisters, for our daughters, for our grandchildren, for the native peoples, for the LGBTQ, for the workers, for the poor, for the beautiful, precious Americans I belong to and among and wish to protect. This isn’t the wish of a child. This is the anger and love, the wisdom and righteousness and protectiveness, of a mother.

Don’t ask me if I’m fine because I might just answer truthfully. We’re not fine. And they have some catastrophic payback coming. You don’t want to get in my way.


My Patreon, if you are so inclined. Your support and the time you took to read this are precious to me. Hopefully, I can look over this work later, but I’ve cried and raged throughout, and I don’t care enough right now to make it pretty.

Link: Through – by E. Brooks at Gray Matters

Link: Only Love – by E. Brooks at Gray Matters

Link: Live Your Life; Leave Us Out Of It – by E. Brooks at Gray Matters

Featured comic by Bruce MacKinnon.

#OnlyLove and compassion with get us through this.

#GMFine #BelieveSurvivors #Vote

2 Comments

  1. It was hard to see that whole spectacle unfold. Kavanaugh, Grassley, tRump and Graham and all the others behaved predictably. The fix was in.

    In some ways it was like having the other shoe drop. I had a hollow feeling on the inside, not too different from the way I felt on 11/9.

    Another travesty. We’re in for more tRump-induced madness. Kavanaugh is just a political hack in judicial robes. A hateful, uber-entitled frat boy who will wield unthinkable power over women and all Americans in the years to come.

    Pardon me, if you will. Getting off the net and reaching for an Ambien and a beer. My nightly bedtime ritual.

    Oh, and thank you for the good work you’re doing on this blog. Very good work, indeed.

    1. It was kind of like watching a car wreck in slow motion only the whole time you know it could have been stopped. You could see all sorts of ways to avoid it, yet all the involved parties were determined to stay on course, to do the damage, to risk permanent injury. And for what?

      Strange, but I’m not doing much better than I was when I wrote that post. These judicial appointments from the Supreme Court on down are the worst of this whole mess. They’ll affect the entire country for decades.

      I’m glad you stopped by, Ben. Thanks so much for your input. It means the world to me! *hugs*

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