Titrating Trump

I, like a multitude of others, chose not to watch tonight’s State of the Union address.

Mine wasn’t a political protest as it was for many. Donald Trump, I have concluded,  is not good for my health. To put it bluntly he literally makes me sick.

And if he so unsettles me — and I’m pretty healthy — what does he do to thousands of others who are less healthy?

I can still handle reading about him. I’m even OK with seeing his words in print, as disgusting and deceitful as they usually are. But if they — or he — get to be too much, I just avert my eyes, say a small prayer, take in the beauty of my surroundings or give thanks for the goodness in the world.

A mental health counsellor I know says that I have learned to “titrate” Trump. I'm told this is good. I take him in very, very small increments — drop by drop — until ... well, until I can’t tolerate any more.

I tune him out if I feel my blood pressure rising ... if I begin to react with anger at the disgust ... if I’m creeping up on wanting to throw something at his televised image.

Still photos of him even set me off.

This man is not just divisive, he’s sickening. A poison. He’s a poisonous and poisoning president.

And lest we forget, he is sickening even to himself. And that sets off another kind of sickness — melancholia, a sadness — for him.