Attorney General Pam Bondi testified on February 11th at a hearing before the House Judiciary Committee pertaining to the oversight of the Department of Justice. This spectacle attempted to focus mainly on the DOJ’s failures to comply with legal demands made in regard to the release of the Epstein Files (which Donald Trump is named in over 1 million times). Somewhere between deflecting, misdirecting, victim shaming, and pedophile protecting, Bondi said one thing that still echoes in my mind.
Bondi told Republican Representative Thomas Massie that he has “Trump Derangement Syndrome.” Maybe you’ve never heard of this imaginary illness, but it has long been used by staunch Trump supporters as a verbal weapon, dating back to his first presidential campaign. Trump Derangement Syndrome is a phrase used by the MAGA cult to discredit any criticisms of the President, by implying that those critiques are coming from demented and irrational perspectives. In short, Trump isn’t the problem; you’re just a crazy person. TDS, as they call it by shorthand, is an example of what Aristotle first identified in Ancient Greece as an ad-hominem argument. Rhetoric of the aforementioned type is used to attack an opponent’s character, rather than their actual sentiments.
Trump Derangement Syndrome, of course, does not medically exist. And yet, I feel that I have it. I am self-diagnosing myself with TDS. I do not concede that my worldview has become any less righteous or realistic than it was before. I simply mean to imply that I am sick and tired of Donald Trump, and I feel he is driving me crazy. I want to be quite clear when I say that I am “sick” and “tired” of Trump.
I feel sick, like how your eyes burn when you’ve been tear-gassed by ICE. I feel sick, like the way your stomach turns when you look at the redacted images of children being abused. I feel sick, like how your heart races when you see a member of our community get abducted in the streets by men in masks.
I feel tired like the way your body feels after working a 12-hour shift at your minimum-wage job, knowing full well the wealth gap increases by billions every day. I feel tired, like the way your mind feels after reading another news headline, unsure if this will be the one that finally starts WWIII. I feel tired, like how your soul feels watching another Democrat write another ‘strongly-worded’ letter to the most evil person you know.
I am sick. And I am tired.
If you are feeling this way: You are not crazy. Don’t let anyone convince you that you are. Do not let anyone shame you for having empathy. Do not let a tumultuous political landscape strip you of your human decency.
I had never experienced panic attacks before. I thought they were just something that happened to people who overthink too much. That was until three days ago, when I couldn’t help but begin to tear up in my politics class. I could hear my blood pumping and felt the chills running through my body. My ribcage felt like it was being squeezed by giant hands intending to crush me. I rushed to the bathroom, unsure if I was going to be sick or not. I think this was my first physical symptom of TDS. I have experienced stress before, but none like this, combined uniquely with notes of dread, fear, and disillusionment.
I am unsure if there is a cure for TDS. But if you are struggling, just know that you are not alone. I found a few techniques that help to keep me grounded. I would recommend talking with friends or loved ones, just to remind yourself that you are not the only one experiencing these awful truths. There are still good things going on in the world. Try to indulge and participate in those. More crucially, I would recommend a healthy dose of activism. Whether it’s sharing something on social media, writing to your representatives, or actually attending a protest, even the smallest act could be fruitful in releasing some of your pent-up frustration.
As for Pam Bondi, Kash Patel, Howard Lutnick, and anyone else who feels invincible under the protection of the President: You are destined for the inside of a cell. It won’t come today, probably not tomorrow, but the orange man is not immortal. If justice is to be served, sentences must be as well. We can only continue to hope that those we have vested power in will follow through on their moral and patriotic obligations.
