Watching America Break Itself Is Personal
This Isn’t Just Politics. It’s Our Lives.
For a lot of us, what’s happening in this country isn’t just something we see — it’s something we feel. Every day. In our bones. In our wallets. In our homes. In our bodies.
When we say “watching America break itself,” we’re not talking about cable news headlines or political party drama. We’re talking about watching your loved ones lose their jobs, their housing, their health, their hope.
We’re talking about people working three jobs and still being unable to afford rent.
We’re talking about elders choosing between groceries and medication.
We’re talking about teenagers raising their siblings because their parents are gone, locked up, or working two shifts.
We’re talking about asking for help and getting doors slammed shut.
We’re talking about being seen as a number, a risk, a burden but never a human.
So no, this isn’t abstract.
It’s personal.
The System Isn’t “Failing”. It’s Functioning Exactly as It Was Built.
Let’s kill the narrative that all of this is accidental.
This is not some great misstep or sudden decline.
It’s the result of decades — centuries — of choices.
Choices to profit off poverty.
Choices to criminalize survival.
Choices to underfund schools and overfund prisons.
Choices to let billionaires hoard while families are evicted over $312.
Choices to build policies that protect wealth, not people.
America is breaking itself on purpose.
And we’re the ones getting crushed under the weight of it.
It Hurts Because We Know It Could Be Different
What’s most painful isn’t just the injustice — it’s the potential.
We know there’s enough food, enough land, enough money, enough compassion to take care of each other.
We know it doesn’t have to be like this.
We know community works better than capitalism ever could.
We know healing is possible. Access is possible. Safety is possible.
But the people with power don’t want possible.
They want profitable.
And that’s what makes watching this country unravel so infuriating.
It doesn’t have to be this way.
It’s choosing to be.
We Feel It Everywhere, And It’s Exhausting
When you’re living paycheck to paycheck, when you’re navigating systems designed to trap you, when you’re the one on hold with the caseworker, when you’re sleeping in your car, when you’re still on a waitlist for housing or therapy or surgery or child care, you don’t get the luxury of watching from a distance.
You live it.
And still, people say,
“Don’t make it political.”
“Just work harder.”
“It could be worse.”
“Don’t talk like that. Just be grateful.”
Grateful? For what?
Surviving a system that punishes you for being poor?
Waking up every day knowing you’re one flat tire away from losing everything?
We’ve been polite.
We’ve been patient.
We’ve been resilient.
And we’re tired.
It’s Actively Breaking Us
What’s happening in America is spiritual.
It’s emotional.
It’s psychological.
It’s generational.
You carry it in your shoulders. In your stomach. In your nervous system. In the way you brace for bad news every time your phone rings.
You carry the grief of what could’ve been.
Of who you could’ve become in a country that cared about you.
Watching America break itself isn’t just painful. It’s personal because it breaks you, too.
So What Do We Do With All This Pain?
We name it.
We rage through it.
We cry when we need to.
We organize.
We protect each other.
We support the ones still in the fight.
We build something better in spite of it all.
But what does that mean we need to do?
Reject the carelessness.
Break down the walls of injustice.
Scream loudly in the streets.
Strategically organize and plan.
Rally for one another’s issues.
Fuel those with boots on the ground.
Build something better when the dust settles.
Because we might not be able to stop every piece from falling, but we can build a softer landing for each other.
