Shit got real and I got down on my knees and prayed.

Shit got real and I got down on my knees and prayed.

Monday evening I felt fatigued. I chalked it up to the flu and the election. I went to phone bank for Hillary Clinton and then to an acting class. I felt terrible throughout the acting class, but thought maybe I just hate acting exercises?  I came home and went to sleep. The next morning, I felt worse, but I got up and walked to the polls at the Lifeguard Station in Venice (California-style voting). I stood in the wrong line at the poling place and sweated in the hot sun.

I ran into my neighbor who had tears in her eyes.  Strangely, I did not feel the joy I thought I would in casting my vote for the first female presidential candidate in US history.  I figured I was just hungry so I got a breakfast burrito at my favorite Mexican place and walked home.  I cried all the way.

When anything good or momentous happens in my life I miss my mom with all my heart. It’s palpable.  Sure, I can still talk to her picture, but I can’t hear her voice; her worry, anxiety or blood curdling advice. (I would give anything to hear her order me to find a short, bald rich guy to date).   She did not like Hillary, but I think she, like many, would have come around.  And she would have loved to cast a vote for a female president.

I felt worse when I got home.  Something weighed on me.   I checked the New York Times which had her at an 84% chance of winning (it might have been lower, I’m not sure).  I texted a friend about my fears that Trump would win and he said not to worry. I felt w orse and worse and considered calling the advice nurse. I didn’t have a sore throat or cough, but I felt like I had a fever.  I just lied on the couch and watched election coverage.

At 6:38 pm things already looked bad.  I texted my same friend that I was “Freaking out…” He said it could be a long night.  At 7:52 pm I texted him again: “WTF….is this for real?” He said he was shocked.  I realized I had never really believed in the possibility of a Trump presidency.  At one point, I started watching “Westworld” and eating gluten free tuna sandwiches, anything to escape reality. But it didn’t last.  I panicked. I cried. I took deep breaths and even closed my computer and meditated. (I don’t have a TV).  I decided that maybe my mother, who once worked for Cesar Chavez,  had been spared this turn in the real American horror story.

At 8:00 pm I created an altar with the Virgin Mary statue that my grandmother gave me years ago and some candles.  At 8:30 pm I got on my knees and prayed…to my mom, my grandmother, the universe. I prayed for our country.   Not since my mother told me that the doctor had diagnosed her with cancer have I felt my paradigm shift in such a dramatic fashion.  I struggled to accept reality.

But it happened.  I, like many, had been naive and maybe lazy.  I was out of touch along with the New York Times, LA Times,…the media gave Trump a platform and underestimated his messages appeal to a population of Americans that have long been ignored and dismissed.

The next day I felt physically better but my heart hurt   I don’t think I had the flu. I think my body saw the election results before I did.

Still praying.



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