I hate that I hate him.
And I hate that he makes me hate him because I hate feeling so much hate.
A few weeks ago, I posted a simple statement on Threads. Just something I was feeling in the moment.
You don’t even need to name him and we know exactly who you mean, said one commenter.
The most relatable words I’ve read in a long time, said another.
I keep trying to let it go, but every day there are new injustices and insults and outrages, wrote my friend Alexis.
Today, after a weekend of more performative cruelty, more threats, more petty grievances, more late-night rants, more fabricated outrage, more criminal grifting, more policies that do nothing but kill more people, more punching down at the lowest, most shameful levels, the feeling is back.
At first it felt like a return to my sullen teenage years, in which one is practically required by law to throw around the word hate (the math teacher who gave mostly Cs, the girl who made out with my crush, the new rule about smoking too close to the doors, another bottom locker) — only it’s really so much worse. It’s not going to pass after a good night’s sleep or one fun Friday night party.
I can’t think of ever truly feeling this level of disdain, of deep-seated loathing towards any living human.
It’s not good for me. I know that hate spreads like fast-acting poison, like a metaphysical disease eating away at your soul. Hate overstimulates your mind. It spikes your cortisol levels. It saps your energy. It pollutes your dreams.
I do my best to redirect my attention and focus my energies, but there’s always this underlying rumbling in my body that I doesn’t quite go away.
I don’t like it.
I don’t even like writing about it. (How long have I put this post off now?)
But I need to get it out. Maybe this will help.
Maybe it will help you too.
Also helpful: The understanding that hate is not an emotion. It’s a learned behavior. I believe most of us will be able to work past some of our baser instincts once wrongs have been righted and justice has been served.
I do not want to live with this much animosity and division — in my body, in my country, in our leadership, in the world.
But what about everyone else?
What is the long-term damage of all this trickle-down hate that we haven’t even considered?
Yesterday, after posting that we should leave Biden alone, I can’t tell you how many pathetic, broken, shells of humans in human form (some possibly real!) showed up in replies to spread their venom before I could delete their comments and block.
But of course they did. Hate begets hate. Online praise is offered not for the good someone does, but for owning each other, hurting each other, getting in the best digs, or spewing the most offensive takes.
It’s why I’ve unfollowed so many of the rage-baiting accounts that rarely tell us how to fix this mess — only why we should keep being angry.
It’s exhausting, and we have to get past this on all sides.
We just have to.
The hate we all feel is a hate we struggle with, but for me, taking some solace in the Paradox of Tolerance helps. maybe not much, but a little bit.
While we may hate him as a person - and perhaps, nearly as equally - those who prop him up and support him and the cumulative pain they inflict (let's be real - he couldn't do any of this on his own - which, too, is a solace, because without the others, he's a small, insignificant, D-list celebrity) - what we really hate about him is the pain he causes others, the grifting and profiting on others, the preying on those who may be weaker or not be able to defend themselves, and so forth.
and while hate itself definitely begets hate, I'm not sure hating hate is completely unhealthy - we hate here for good reasons, because we're mortified at the actions of these people.
I also believe that hatred is helping us fight to preserve our country and our democracy - it may have taken longer than we had hoped, but we are seeing our elected leaders and our judges fighting to preserve our country, and part of their motivation, no doubt, is the same hate we all feel.
I am mourning the downfall of civilization. I don't mean that metaphorically. It's not one evil man. This is a system and a majority of voters who want this. We knew in advance. They gave us the playbook. Greece fell. The Roman Empire fell. Alexandria was burned. An Imam in the 11th century told Muslims that they couldn't learn new things and so progress that was the height of learning (algebra!) just stopped, and has never recovered. Our democracy is precious. Our freedom, education, liberty, and goodness were assumed as American birthrights. But we did not tend them. And they are sliding away. When he won again, I cried, hard, for hours because I knew we had chosen a country that will not be easier for our children. We cannot easily undo this. I'm not sure we can undo it at all. American history is filled with the powerless losing - such as the Trail of Tears. We have a federal holiday for Columbus Day, which was genocide on the Taino people. We aren't better than this, and we might not win - but we still fight, because goodness compells us.