I have it. I have a bad case of it. Not yet bad enough that I’m medicating with an anti-anxiety or antidepressant, however I’m acquainted with people who require drug therapy to treat their Trump Derangement Syndrome (TDS).
The symptoms of TDS include agitation, sleeplessness, sorrow, despair. Each morning, I open my computer and read the news, not knowing if what I’m seeing is real or fake. I’ve come to despise that word, fake. In any context. We’re bombarded with it, with someone’s slinging it. Can anybody hear it and not think immediately of its association with Donald Trump, his supporters, with news?
Still, I know that what we hear from corporate media and politicians is phony. Fox, CNN, MSNBC, phony. Either political party, phony. Speaking truth is a career-ending death wish.
Presidents: Regardless of their oratory skills, the velvety smoothness of their vocals, a decision, either calculated or spontaneous, during a crisis to sing an inspirational spiritual, I remain untouched.
News anchors: Regardless of their analysis and their reportage, I recoil.
Plus, Congress is an organized crime family holding America and significant areas of the world hostage.
So, I have TDS, but I also suffered Obama Derangement Syndrome and Bush/Cheney Derangement Syndrome. Had Hillary Clinton won, I would have Clinton Derangement Syndrome now.
(I wrote the above before Trump announced the withdrawal of US troops from Syria.)
Last night, I created a fantasy. Despite Trump’s silliness—that the US is leaving Syria because ISIS has been defeated—I had a fantasy. Despite what we witness daily from the Tangerine Nightmare—his mercurial predictability, I am fanaticizing. I know, I know, mercurial predictability sounds unreasoned, oxymoronic. But mercurial predictability fits 45.
Back to the fantasy.
Trump withdraws US forces from countries whose regime change began under George W Bush and Barack Obama. Military bases become reparations centers and sanctuaries for returning immigrants who were forced to flee violence.
Tangerine Dream declares (tweets) a promotion of human rights, a vast umbrella under which all justice issues reside. It’s the Trump Doctrine. Enhanced Medicare from cradle to the grave. A guaranteed income. Free education. Endorsement of clean energy. Making peace with planet Earth. Making peace with humankind.
Trump and FLOTUS (wearing a jacket emblazoned with I DEEPLY CARE) fly to the Texas-Mexico border to welcome asylum seekers from Central America.
Suddenly, recently extinct insect and animal species are spotted, thriving and frolicking. Ocean water cools. Rising sea levels ebb and ebb and ebb and then dance their ebb and flow. Mother Nature smiles. Recently dead plant species awaken. Mother Nature celebrates.
Unus pro omnibus.
My TDS is disappearing. Healing itself. However, the recuperation may be interrupted, remission reversed. You know—his mercurial predictability. Removing 2,000 troops from Syria and then deploying 20,000 to Syria soon after.
The fantasy continues.
Anyway, Cheery Whatever and Contented New Year. Holiday wishes—even these—may be a fantasy.
Missy Comley Beattie has written for National Public Radio and Nashville Life Magazine. She was an instructor of memoirs writing at Johns Hopkins’ Osher Lifelong Learning Institute in Baltimore. Email: firstname.lastname@example.org.