It’s been eighteen days, including a holiday, since the election, and while I’m not still crying, I am still grieving. I’m still angry, and I’m still overwhelmed by disgust for so many of my fellow citizens.

Why? Why aren’t you over it yet? Why are you so dramatic? Etc., etc.

This is something I’m seeing asked by many people, either because they supported Trump and think the rest of us need to “just get over it” or “suck it up,” while also believing that their party didn’t protest Obama’s election both times. Or, this is asked by people who believe that they only voted for “a change,” and not also for all the ugly things Trump said (“Really, I’m not a racist!”) Or, I’m asked this by people who voted for HRC just because they thought Trump was kinda sorta awful, but whatever, we’ll survive four years, and who keep telling me (and those like me) that I’m overreacting, “we survived Reagan, we survived Bush, we’ll survive this too.”

So, why can’t I just relax? Why am I still grieving and angry and disgusted? There’s a lot to unpack here, but I’ll try.

First (and simplest), is because it’s not just four years. Saying it’s only four years requires an assumption that the incumbent won’t win the next election (which in the entire history of our nation may be true, but not so much in the last 36 years, where four out of the last five presidents were reelected to a second term). Also, because the incoming administration will be replacing at least one, but most likely two (and possibly more) justices of the Supreme Court. For those who either failed or forgot their high school government/civics lessons, those justices are appointed for life. Therefore, their decisions affect us for much longer than a single (or even double) term of a president, and Trump has already promised to put conservative judges bent on reversing Roe v. Wade on the bench. Do not take that ruling for granted. Not only socially antiquated rulings like Plessy or Bowers have been overturned by a later SCOTUS decision, but so have common sense ones like Austin and McConnell (both by Citizens United).

Second (and the more complicated answer), is that what really bothers me about people who are shrugging their shoulders about Trump, and those who are trying to reassure themselves (and us) with “look, he’s already walking back his campaign promises,” or those that claimed to have only voted for “change” (“really, we’re not racists”) is that Trump’s election signifies the death of America.

Now, I can already hear those keyboards clacking in indignation or patronizing ‘splaining of some sort. Stop. Just stop. Don’t get your undies in a bunch and tell me I’m being dramatic and overreacting, don’t patronize me. Hear me out.

I believe that the columnist Charles Blow said it best recently when he opined about Trump,

“You don’t get a pat on the back for ratcheting down from rabid after exploiting that very radicalism to your advantage. Unrepentant opportunism belies a staggering lack of character and caring that can’t simply be vanquished from memory. You did real harm to this country and many of its citizens, and I will never — never — forget that.” Blow, Charles “No, Trump, We Can’t Just Get Along.” The New York Times 23 Nov. 2016

Donald Trump won this election by pandering to the absolute worst elements of our society: racism, jingoism, xenophobia, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, misogyny, and homophobia. That people can reasonably debate whether he himself is anti-Semitic, for example, is irrelevant. Trump fomented those feelings among our citizens, and emboldened the most recent iteration of white nationalism and white supremacy to slither out from the bottom dwelling ooze where it belongs. He does not get a thumbs up now for walking back a couple of the more ridiculous promises from his campaign.

Trump’s continued outrage tweets and attacks on the media belie any sort of moderation of character or belief in democracy, and continues to indicate an authoritarian bent that revels in a cult of personality—like Hitler, Hussein, Duvalier, Mussolini, and North Korea’s Kim family.

When I say that I think Trump’s election signifies the death of America, I mean that I believe he signifies the death of American society, of the open democracy where differences are celebrated, and our diversity cherished as a means to exceptionalism. Trump’s election signifies the death of the fantasy of what we’ve been taught America is, and what she presents herself as to the world.

I think the republic itself will likely survive this, and that the checks and balances so wisely instituted by the founders will suffice to prevent the worst abuses. I hope our leaders in Congress love this country enough to stand up to such abuses, and do not cede ground in the name of “party unity,” or in the hope of maintaining their positions. However, what Trump has brought forth in the soul of our nation is a different matter entirely.

I cannot say that Trump himself sowed the seeds of racism, jingoism, xenophobia, anti-Semitism, Islamophobia, misogyny, and homophobia. This nation, both in policy and in its citizen’s attitudes, has a long and storied history with these issues—slavery and Jim Crow, the Indian Wars and Iraq War, the Chinese Exclusion Act and Japanese Internment, Holocaust denialism and anti-Zionism, the anti-Federalists arguments for a religious test in the Constitution, rape culture and the wage gap, and the criminalization of homosexuality and how the AIDS crisis was handled, to name just some. Trump, however, took those seeds, watered them, and coaxed them into a foul, noxious garden.

This foul garden is now front and center in the America we live in, regardless of whether Trump softens his stance on climate change, or decides not prosecute Hillary. Furthermore, despite alleged back tracking on some of these issues, he is appointing persons who further these agendas, and fan bigotry, to positions of power within his administration. Given the amount of damage Trump has already done to the American psyche, I dread to see what they can do over the course of four years.

I am a grandchild of Holocaust survivors, and my parents are immigrants. I married a man who is a Mayflower descendent, and thus our children have an amazing mixed heritage. I always considered my family (immediate and extended) to be a shining example of the American melting pot, and of the possibilities inherent in the American Dream. My family and friends—my people—are white, black, latino, Jewish, Christian, and Muslim. They are gay, straight, male, female, and all the permutations in between.

I can’t say I’ve never personally experienced anti-Semitism, because I have. I can’t say I’ve never seen my loved ones experience racism, bigotry, or homophobia, because I have. What I can say is that for the first time that I can recall, I am afraid. I’m afraid because in the past, when I experienced or bore witness to those awful moments, despite my innate cynicism and tendency toward misanthropy, I still believed in the inherent goodness of the American character; this election shattered that.

So, when you ask me why I’m still grieving, or why I’m still sadangrydisgustedworried, that’s why. When I tell you Trump’s election signals the death of America to me, that’s why. It’s why every day I feel like saying, fuck it, you people wanted it? I hope you choke on it, ‘cause I’m done. I have three reasons that keep me from doing that, three boys that need me to keep trying to make this world a place worth living in, even if it means fighting through the death of a beloved dream to whatever lies on the other side.