I put this page up 14 hrs ago, when November 9th began, and the results of a national election were coming in to indicate that Donald Trump was going to be the next President of the United States.  I had posted the page because that’s what I promised I was going to do. I didn’t know that I was going to be in the emotional place that I’m currently in when I posted it.

I’ve populated my personal social media with many people as like-minded as I am, so when it began to be clear that Donald Trump had won the election, my social media became a very sad and angry place. Shock and loss, fear and fury became the theme of my timeline.

As with a majority of DIY comic book artists & writers, I have a day job. Something to pay my bills with. If you’ve been reading my comics, and you are a friend of mine, you would know that the character of Terry Foster is very much an echo of myself. In fact the only real difference between us is that I have no superpowers (and he’s a little younger than me). But we are both mental health professionals, and we both have to find a way to step away from our personal emotions to serve the needs of our clients.

On the morning of 9/11/01, I was required to accompany a client to the ER because her mental illness had escalated in the light of the disaster that was unfolding on our national screens. I needed to be present and rational to help guide her through the chaos of her mind and into the systems that would get her acute help. I had no luxury to process the events for myself.

That was more than 15 years ago, and it seems apparent by now that I  do this as a coping mechanism. When I’m relatively healthy and lucid, I can bat the issues around on social media with the best of them. I can read dissent on the issues that mean the most to me. I can tolerate and even engage with the needling combative questions fired at me from people who consider themselves friendly. I can be funny, or angry, or both, and communicate to my audience to my satisfaction, and to their entertainment. I can even sometimes edify them. Help them and bring them up if they find themselves down. But when I’m at my most vulnerable and afraid, or when I’m in the most pain, I check out and go elsewhere (this morning, for instance, I went to the gym). I harness the functionality of my cognitive mind and use it for something that might do me and hopefully someone else, some good. I sidestep the supervolcano of emotions exploding beneath.

That’s where I’m at right now. If you know me through my social media, you’ll know how I feel about Donald Trump becoming the President of my country. You’ll already know how I feel about the society that voted him in. No need to put those thoughts here. I don’t want to discuss them again.

What I want to do is find my new next normal. I want to keep functioning. I want to still be of some service. I want … I need to be viable. I don’t do that well in other areas of my life, so I’m clinging to this one last redeemable piece of me. And I believe a significant piece of that is in my writing.

I have scripts already written up to Issue #16. From Issue #17 forward, you will see a writer working his real-world shit out. As my reading audience, I thought it was fair to let you know in advance.

Thanks for listening.