You don’t have to behave here (much). You’re family!
I’ve wondered if you were okay Vow. Good to know you are. Welcome back.
I get the same way, at 3AM.
VOW- mad, mad, mad…as hell and she’s not gonna take it anymore!
You’ve helped me a couple ways..ok hell, alot of ways. You sent me a box ‘o sox. (That I wear, everyday) If that ain’t sisterhood, I don’t know what is.
So so so happy to see you back. Really, keep posting.
Welcome back @VOW. I remember you from a number of political threads, but to be honest I’ve mostly stepped away from the Trump threads since he got reelected, so I’m not even sure I noticed you were missing. Avoid the Pit and P&E and I think you’ll be just fine.
Just block the trump tag and SD is a much nicer place.
I am so grateful to be welcomed back with open arms. Instead of a kick in the pants.
I have to bite my tongue while we are in the Daughter’s home. For a while, we were rationed which and when we could watch TV news. I’m sorry, but I NEED to watch David on ABC World News Tonight. Our TV room at the Daughter’s abode is adjacent to the kitchen, and World News is dinnertime.
Put it on mute, read the captions.
Mr VOW watches CNN and MSNOW waaaaaaaaay too much. I often poke him to make him find something else. Thus I frequently OD on paranormal and alien horseshit. I’ve decided the paranormal programs are essentially the same story, different cast. And I’m practically on a first-name basis with all the alien “authorities.” One was named Dwight, and I thoroughly enjoyed his blue-blue eyes and grey hair. He hasn’t been around for quite a while. I googled him, and discovered his primary profession is acting, and I didn’t see any references to alien research. Alas.
Unfortunately, we’ve become the stereotypical seniors glued to the TV. My neck and back often require me to sit and behave, or be occupied with hurting and counting pain pills. Only those who have chronic pain will completely understand my last remark.
Mr VOW has hopped on the chronic pain bandwagon, unfortunately. He finally mentioned his increasing backache to his neurologist, who ordered a CT scan. That revealed severe stenosis of his lower back. He now has his own Rx for Lidocaine patches, and he uses a cane when the pain is especially bad.
So our current life goals are to rapidly fossilize.
I currently handle all my frustrations and disappointments by lumping everything together and ignoring them. I don’t get much done. And that pisses me off.
I’ll just sit in the corner here, moan and groan, and practice my swearing.
~VOW
Oh, and Mr VOW had to take my cat to the vet for a bon voyage to Rainbow Bridge. I still,haven’t really processed that yet. I got stabbed in the heart just keyboarding this.
~VOW
Oh VOW, poor Cat. You know the cure. A kitten. I swear it works Everytime.
I acknowledge your grief tho’. These things hit us in gut at odd times.
Turn off the news. I’ve completely unplugged from a 24 hour news cycle. Can’t do it. It was making me unhappy.
So much better with out it.
I got interested in the Guthrie case and felt the draw to keep watching CNN all night. I created my own convoluted CT. It was scary when I wrote the FBI and Lima Co. Phone# down. I flipped the channel that minute.
VOW, my favorite binge watching is Unsolved Mysteries back to back. The shows are old. They had really looney ideas. It’s on one of those dinky channels that come with your local PKG. MeTV, Bounce, or True CRMZ I think it is.
My go-to is TCM. Bugs Bunny week kinda tested my resolve. But I’m back. Now I’ve enjoyed some Olympic event. I’m happy enough.
That is, if you care 
You aren’t alone in that. Welcome back. Misery loves company.
The Daughter has a convalescing outside cat in the garage. When he is cone-free, he will most likely become my next cat. For convenience, The Daughter named him Hugh, for the huge, um, “endowments” he sported. Removal of such explains his convalescence and cone. I’ll probably rename him, but I dread the argument.
I tried to adopt a kitten a while back. A cute little tuxedo cat who reminded Mr VOW and me of our first furbaby. We paid all the vet stuff, and named her Suzie, after that first cat.
Suzie said I’m not her real mother. The Daughter is. She won’t even let me touch her! She maybe comes within ten feet of me, won’t even look at me when I call her name, and runs away like I lit her tail on fire.
Hugh is a flame point Siamese. I have a soft spot (in my head, obviously) for that breed. My kids gave me one on Valentine’s Day, 2000. I named him Zircon for his beautiful blue eyes. He was a mean little shit, who eventually let me love him, and, oh, how I did.
He’s the first cat we’ve buried on our AZ property.
Hugh is nothing like Zircon. His face is more round, and his eyes are a lighter shade of blue.
The Daughter doesn’t know it yet, but his name is going to be Blue.
~VOW
I am so sorry!
Ah, the Cat Distribution System working as needed, for both you and Blue. I have to always have more than one; and my mantra for grieving cats is “I shall pat The living cat.” It doesn’t stop the grief of course; but it does help.
And yes, there’s a whole lot of anger around. Do what you need to to stay sane; and find some spot, even if small, where you can aim that anger usefully.
Cats! they will make up their own minds; sometimes for reasons entirely unclear to the humans.
I can’t trust the Universal cat delivery scheme.
It can’t be that I should have them all, it seems they all like being around me.
Maybe it’s my aroma…
Back in May, I started a thread about the emotional fatigue issue, where a bunch of people listed their actions, activities and other options to dealing with it:
Maybe there’s something to emulate in there?
As for avoiding Trump news, some of us can’t avoid it (self-inflicted wounds and all), but as I told a friend of mine in similar despair, that after a point, it doesn’t do much more good to focus on the latest outrage. There will always be another, and the Trumper’s won’t believe (or will excuse) anything. Just vote, vote, vote and if timing, health and safety permit, be seen at protests to show everyone there that they’re not alone either.
And yeah, thinking about the loss of either of my cats causes the choking pain in the back of my throat as well. Be as well as you can be.
You have my sympathies.
I’ve been a news nerd for my entire life: I was the geeky kid who was reading the newspaper and Time magazine when I was 8 or 9. Up until last year, I watched network news, BBC News, and MSNBC regularly, and spent my work afternoons with NPR or BBC World Service on in the background.
Since the 2024 election, I just can’t anymore. It crushes my soul, and becomes the equivalent of doomscrolling for me. I watch the local news (WGN here in Chicago, which is quite good), and keep up on current events through this board, as well as a few selected websites (like the AP), but that’s it. My wife will sit there in front of MSNOW all evening, but I have to resort to putting on headphones and listening to music, because I just can’t do it any longer.
Same page @kenobi_65 .
Can’t.
I have a suspicion if it’s really REALLY bad. Won’t be a dang thing I can do about something currently happening somewhere far away from me. Good thoughts and vibes ain’t gonna cut it.
Along with Vote, Vote, Vote…I’ll add; donate donate donate. $5 bucks to your Democratic candidate or cause. Will do a lot. If we all do it.
Amen, Sister! VOTE VOTE VOTE
And I say a Thank You with my heart to all the protesters. I double and triple blessed those in Minnesota, out in the cold, the snow, the ice, marching, waving signs, and yelling at the top of their lungs!
My mobility is so damn wretched I’m doing good to make it to the bathroom. I desperately WANT to protest, and I have to settle for a raging, flaming protest in my heart.
(So, two weeks before T-Day, I tripped over an imaginary line and I tap danced like crazy to NOT FALL. So, I didn’t fall. Last time I fell, the paramedics had to pick me up…
However, I did sprain my right ankle, badly. Excruciating pain. Mr VOW dug up a walker so I could at least pee. I eventually went to Extended Care got xrays, yep, it’s sprained. One week after I FINALLY weaned off the walker, my LEFT foot swelled up. Bring back the walker. Off to Extended Care again. Beck will sympathize: ankle’s infected. Why ? “You’re Diabetic!” No open wound or sore on that sole, heel, toes, arch, ankle, leg! Diagnosis: cellulitis. Something Diabetics try desperately to avoid. Everything has healed, uneventfully, but I’m in no shape to protest march.)
Bitch, bitch, bitch… See why I was gone?
~VOW
This is safe “bitch” space. To a degree.
Protests are not thing I could do. I so wanna be that person. I always had 60s wannabe hippy vibes.
I mailed, snail mail, about 600 Kamala cards at the last election.
That’s a lot of stamp licking 
(I know, I found the sponge thing to help me).
It’s a thing I could do that didn’t require speech. Or stepping away from my pet anxiety about actually interacting with a live person. You know how I hate that.
Yeah. Gotta do all we can. Get creative.
The sentiment, good feelings, and other efforts are enough, like I said:
[ new bolding added ]
On a deeply cynical level, if one were to protest despite that, and become too ill/infirm to vote, it’s less helpful. Blech, I don’t like thinking about that.
Just stop watching TV news. Both you & hubs. Nothing good for you comes out of TV news, regardless of which station you have tuned in. Ditto internet news sites.