I deliberately steer clear out of a lot of the second-order discussions relating to Trump and Trumpism, because I respect expertise and there a lot of areas where I'm lacking in expertise. The most powerful form of expertise, in my book, is experiential expertise. I'm not going to argue with a black man on racism on the grounds that I read Invisible Man in college. Mostly I'm going to listen. I'm a white Christian male. Tell me what I can do to support you and I'll do what I can to the best of my ability.
So the reason I'm speaking up here, on this issue, is because I do have experiential expertise, because I have a very long history of serious mental illness. This doesn't make me right, but it does give me the right to be heard. That's all I'm asking for here.
The secondary issue of authority here is that of professional expertise - that I speaking here as what is often derided as an "armchair psychologist". A couple things to say about that. First is that the actual psychiatrists are precluded from saying the things I am saying by their professional code of ethics, although I note that many of them are increasingly coming to believe that this situation is serious enough as to require them to break this code of ethics. The second is that lack of professional expertise compels deference and caution, not willful ignorance. If I see somebody choking, I am going to perform the Heimlich Maneuver on them, even though I do not hold any current medical certifications.
So, centering this in my own experience as a mentally ill person, I want to say that first, I find it personally helpful to identify Donald Trump as a malignant narcissist, to identify his irrational supporters as enablers of a malignant narcissist, and to treat them accordingly.
That's important, but it's not enough. That doesn't grant me, or you, or anybody, the right to "self-care" at the expense of a marginalized class. So the second important thing I want to do is to argue that identifying Donald Trump as a malignant narcissist is not primarily or exclusively detrimental to those of us who suffer from mental illness.
First I do want to acknowledge that labelling him as such does have the real potential for significant detriment. If the way this gets played out is that Congress brings him up on the 25th Amendment and makes a bunch of speeches on how Mr. Crazy Pants should never be allowed anywhere near the White House and that we're all a bunch of deranged killers, you know, like the way Muslims get treated, then yeah, that's bullshit.
I haven't seen it play out that way in my life and in the lives of those I care about. My observation is that this situation has served to increase understanding of mental illness, its effects, and how it works in a lot of people, myself included. It's given me the strength to confront destructive behaviour patterns in my everyday life, to recognize how common these destructive behaviour patterns are. I am less likely to turn a blind eye to abuse as a result of this. If I were to treat Donald Trump's presidency as a simply political phenomenon, I do not think that I should have been empowered to do this.
Because the political is personal, both in a broader sense and, in a very specific sense, for Donald Trump. His political fascism is inseparable from his uncontrolled malignant narcissism. If we treat one aspect while choosing not to confront the other, for whatever reason, we are blinding ourselves to the obvious - blinding ourselves to the obvious in a way which is strikingly similar to the behaviour of his enablers.
One of the reactions I get when I come out as mentally ill to people is denial. I get the "oh, you're not really crazy". And while that's well-intentioned, that's hurtful, not just to me, but to them, because if they can't recognize and cope with me for who I am they're going to be in for a pretty nasty surprise when my symptoms start manifesting.
And this is particularly important when a disorder someone is manifesting is an abuse disorder. Most mental disorders contain the potential for abuse - I am not a "bad person", but I do sometimes mistreat people as a result of my illness, and I take responsibility for that.
Now, the President, he doesn't take responsibility for anything. He is out of control. He refuses to admit to or confront his problems. This doesn't mean that we don't have to confront them or hold him responsible for his actions in exactly the same way that I, as an openly mentally ill person, need to be held responsible. Responsibility is good and appropriate in these situations, blame much less so.
In conclusion, I believe that dealing with Donald Trump based on his clear and unambiguous symptoms of mental illness is both important for survival on a personal level and helps us as a society better address and cope with the phenomenon of, and the diversity of, mental illness, particularly when the conversation is led by the voices of the mentally ill.
