Rise

When the tone last night on Twitter went from cautious hope to gallows humour to utter shock and horror, I watched all of it. Perhaps a mix of a trainwreck I couldn’t look away from and utter disbelief, I was up until nearly 5am, checking Twitter on my phone well after I shut my laptop down for the night. All but a few of the most cynical people I know genuinely thought humans were better than that. Admittedly I was one of them and should’ve known better.

I’ve already been ranting on social media about rape culture and white supremacy, trying to share resources, and privately comforting American friends. I’m Canadian, and I admit I’m privileged by a certain level of distance from events, but the same attitudes that led to Trump are rife everywhere else and I absolutely believe we as America’s neighbours must confront uncomfortable truths as well and remain vigilant; humans are headed for another awful period, and we must not remain complacent.

I haven’t much else to add; it is not my country of residence going through this, and while I feel shock and horror as a woman, I am not in fear for my safety (concerned, due to NATO and climate change, but anyway…). But there is a thing I know very well.

Despair.

I know how to live without hope (seriously, fuck you, hope) because everything I ever hoped for is gone. I know how to survive fully aware things will never get better. I know how to keep breathing in the face of a world and body and mind that continually tells you to stop; while there is still a 15% chance I ultimately won’t survive bipolar disorder, after over twenty years of it I can say I have a reasonable understanding of how to do so.

You survive despair by finding a way to keep breathing every day. You find inspiration to fight even when you know you’ll never win. You keep taking care of yourself. You become someone else if you have to.

You surround yourself with stories—watch Aliens or Fury Road if you need to be reminded that women who fight monsters sometimes win. Find those moments of clarity and truth in fiction, and hold tight to the heroes and survivors who inspire you. Write a character who inspires you, who helps you survive (this is where both Zara and Livi came from).

Here is something absolutely no one knows about me: nearly every morning, my alarm goes off, and it’s “I Shall Rise”. It has been so for a year now, because I need it—because I have to get through every day with despair. That song is my moment of clarity, a deep breath as my eyes close and I feel like I might survive no matter how much I don’t want to.

And while I loved the peppiness of Hillary’s campaign tune being “Fight Song”—it’s a great song, on my running playlist and a Livi theme—I felt like she should’ve had “I Shall Rise”; she is a woman who has fought and been mocked, survived and been slapped, and who has risen again and again in dedication to bettering a world for people who fucking hate her. It’s an anthem of the battle-worn who keep going. And even now, you know that woman will rise.

I had hoped this “season finale of America” (wasn’t that a funny joke a few days ago?) would end with Buffy defeating misogyny…

…but you got Angel‘s “Not Fade Away” instead.

And I can’t offer any solutions or help beyond support as my American friends navigate a rightfully scary world where their friends, family, and neighbours voted for someone who advocates fascist ideals and will now have the power to enact them. I can’t offer hope, or wisdom. I can’t tell you not to despair. I can only suggest using whatever resources you have at your disposal to survive this, to rise, to keep breathing and loving and fighting.

I can offer hope that you can survive through despair.

Just keep rising.

Do you have particular fiction or heroes who remind you to rise? Let me know in the comments.