57 Days Into Trump’s Second Presidency and it's worse than I ever expected

Why Documenting This Chaos Is My Lifeline in a House Fire No One Wants to Evacuate

I wasn’t supposed to be doing this.

I wanted to be one of those people who moved on, who found inner peace, who ignored the daily insanity like it was just another shitty reality show. But I witnessed too much the first time Trump was president to pretend any of this is normal. I mean, how does a draft-dodging conman even legally run for a second term after he sent his cult members to smash windows at the Capitol, wearing outfits that made Comic-Con look like a black-tie event?

The answer: because America never really held him accountable. And now, 57 days into his second term, we’re seeing exactly what happens when you let a man with a grudge and a spray tan think he’s above the law.

Let’s recap, shall we?

1. The Lies. The permanent, industrial-grade, firehose of bullshit. According to The Washington Post, Trump told over 30,000 documented lies in four years. That’s not just dishonesty; that’s a Guinness World Record in gaslighting. Even the most seasoned pathological liar would break a sweat trying to keep up.

2. The Nastiness. And the fact that his cult members loved it. One of the most repulsive moments? When he publicly mocked a disabled reporter. We have a word for that in German: Fremdschämen. Feeling shame on behalf of someone too morally bankrupt to feel it themselves. Trump doesn’t experience shame—his narcissism won’t allow it. That’s why he does things most people wouldn’t do even if you paid them.

3. The Misogyny. From his legendary pussy-grabbing boast to the Stormy Daniels scandal (yes, he cheated on Melania while she was pregnant with his giant man-baby, Barron), all the way to losing a sexual abuse case against E. Jean Carroll—this man isn’t just sexist, he’s historically sexist. If there were a Hall of Fame for misogynists, his portrait would be on the goddamn ceiling.

4. The Dictator Fetish. Putin. Kim Jong-Un. Orban. Bolsonaro. If there’s a strongman with a body count, Trump is fawning over him like a teenage girl at a boy band concert. And now, he’s openly siding with Russia, promising revenge against his enemies, and dismantling democratic institutions in broad daylight. The mask is off—if it was ever on in the first place.

5. The Disdain for Democracy. Trump doesn’t just break democratic norms; he treats them like a cheap buffet, taking what he wants and leaving the rest in ruins. He tried to overturn a fair election. He sicced a mob on the Capitol. He’s made it abundantly clear: the Constitution is just an inconvenience standing between him and absolute power.

And that’s why I’m here, writing Trumped Out. Because ignoring this mess feels like a betrayal—to logic, to history, to common sense, and, frankly, to my own sanity.

Why? Because Trumpism isn’t just a political movement; it’s a cult. A fascist one. And cults, when left unchecked, don’t just fade away. They metastasize. They take whole systems down with them. I’ve seen this story before—not firsthand, obviously, but I was born in Germany, a country that once fell for a charismatic strongman with a knack for scapegoating and a deep hatred for independent thought. And our education system made damn sure we learned exactly how it happened.

Guess what? It’s happening again.

Fascism doesn’t always come marching in with brown shirts and stiff-armed salutes. Sometimes, it swaggers in with an orange spray tan, a fast-food diet, and a Twitter addiction. Sometimes, it waves a hamburger in one hand and a Bible in the other, promising to make America great again while quietly dismantling everything that actually made it great.

I studied political science. I’m a feminist. I believe in science, evidence-based problem-solving, individual rights, equality, and, above all, freedom. Real freedom—not the version where women’s bodies are state property and dissent gets labeled as treason. The right wing has always been a problem for women, but even I didn’t think I’d live to see Roe v. Wade overturned in what was supposed to be the “free world.” And yet, here we are.

I don’t even want to be right. I just need to get this madness off my chest. Every day, it gets worse, and every day, people act like this is normal. It’s not. So I’m here, writing it all down, protocolling it and trying to make sense of it or at least making fun of it —maybe for you, but mostly for me.

Welcome to Trumped Out: A Diary of American Madness. If you’re also staring at the news with a mix of horror and dark amusement, wondering how the hell we got here—stick around. I promise, I won’t bore you.

Let’s make sense of this mess together.