Drifting in the Fog: Fear, Hope, and the Unknown Future of America

There’s a particular kind of fear that comes from not knowing exactly what’s happening but sensing, deep in your bones, that something is wrong. It’s like standing in a thick fog, unable to see the landscape ahead, but feeling the tremors beneath your feet. That’s what it has felt like living in this country since Trump took office—watching, waiting, wondering if the ground will hold or if we’re on the edge of something irreversible.

At first, it was disbelief. A sort of “this isn’t really happening, is it?” moment that quickly gave way to realization: yes, it is happening. Then came the unraveling. The news cycle became a relentless, pounding wave, each day bringing a new revelation, a new controversy, a new reason to question whether the country I thought I knew was still standing on the same foundation.

Confusion settled in like an unwanted houseguest. What’s real? What’s propaganda? Who can be trusted? Every institution—the press, the courts, the very idea of truth—felt like it was under attack. Friends and family, once bound by shared experiences and histories, now seemed to be living in separate realities, divided by the algorithms that fed them their own customized versions of America.

And then, terror. Not just a distant, hypothetical fear but the kind that tightens your chest when you see armed men storming a Capitol, when laws shift beneath your feet, when democracy itself starts to feel less like an unshakable structure and more like a delicate thread that could snap at any moment.

The question that lingers, the one I can’t shake, is whether this country—this flawed, infuriating, beautiful, conflicted country—can withstand the weight of what’s happening. Can it hold under the pressure of misinformation, division, and the corrosion of truth? Can we pull ourselves back from the brink when so many seem determined to push forward into chaos?

And yet, strangely, there is still hope. Not blind, naive hope, but the kind that comes from knowing that history has always been shaped in moments like this. That the people who refuse to accept what is happening, the ones who dig in and push back, have always been the ones who tip the scales.

Maybe the fog will lift. Maybe we’ll find our footing. Maybe this is the moment before the great reckoning, where we decide what kind of country we actually want to be.

Or maybe we don’t know yet. Maybe we are still in the part of the story where the future is uncertain, and all we can do is keep our eyes open, our voices strong, and our hope—however fragile—alive.

Whatever the answer is, I’m hoping to connect with humans and causes that help build a more loving and conscientious world. I think the only way we weather this storm is together. 

Anyone else feeling similar? Do you think collectively we can turn things around in the coming days and months? Look forward to hearing how you’re feeling. Please share in comments or write an article and share with me ❤️