I signed up for NaNoWriMo this year.
When I did, I knew I probably wouldn’t make my 5o,000 words. Not because I’m a pessimist – I’d really like to finish that many, and I think some day I will, even if it’s not some November. No, it was because we’re trying to get into a house before the end of the year, and historically, I’m sort of worthless for the last week of the month because of Thanksgiving. Some of that is just the holiday and the responsibilities I place on myself for it – cooking, hosting, and so on. Some of that is that my favorite season (autumn through Christmas) has gotten complicated with grief over the last 12 years or so. So, while I’d like to get 50k, my actually goal is to beat last year’s total, which was around 27.5k. I got more than halfway there! I was very happy with that, as I decided to start late, and I definitely failed the last week of November. So that was about 2.5 weeks of writing, really.
I forgot to take the election into account.
So many of my friends (and many polls and political writers) have been so sure Clinton would win. I wasn’t. I kept seeing horrible reports across my social media about people who I would never believe would support Trump supporting him. Counseling Center staff. Religious women. Hell, women in general. Veterans who were furious that other presidents had dodged military service – or made fun of veterans were supporting him. I’ve been nervous for weeks, but I was allowing myself to hope a bit more than even I guess I realized, even though in private messages to my uncle, a Hillary supporter, I would express fear.
Because it didn’t occur to me how devastated I would feel if he won. Don’t get me wrong. I was and am terrified. I’m already seeing reports of violence related to sexism and racism. But I didn’t take into account how much I would grieve knowing a significant amount of the population CHOSE him, or CHOSE to not vote at all. Voter turnout in my county was considered extremely high, and still 30% of the eligible public did not participate. They decided that it didn’t matter. There were so many close states. And who knows, maybe they would have voted for him anyway. But they still would have participated.
I want to be able to focus to write in my story. It’s interesting. I like my characters. But I can’t.
Every single damn time I start to open the file I get worried about someone else in my life who is likely to lose health benefits. Or be attacked running errands, because their skin is the wrong color or their accent is different from the norm. Or someone ASSUMES something about them based on the way they dress or present themselves. Or they’re told their marriage isn’t real and they’re violently attacked. Or they’re told to just leave the damn country then.
I hope I can focus again, and get more words in that story and move on with life. But right this minute, I’m still grieving the fact that so many people are so selfish that they are putting their own desires above the true needs of their fellow countrymen. I know that I’ll continue to vote, write representatives about bills, and donate what I can afford. But more than ever, I’m also scared to voice my opinion and realities in my real life, because the person who appears to be sympathetic is just as likely not to be. This election has proven that beyond the usual level.