FOR REAL: The many stages of reading the news in 2017

"FOR REAL" is a weekly place for Anne T. Donahue to gracefully rage out about politics, pop culture and the general insanity of being alive in 2017.

Over the last week, everything happened. Donald Trump rallied the Boy Scouts in ways no one's really seen since Germany, 1936. Obamacare was saved. John McCain was a hero, a villain, and then simply a deeply flawed man who confused and infuriated us all (while predictably eclipsing the two female Republican senators who'd helped keep Obamacare alive). Anthony Scaramucci was appointed the White House Director of Communications, gave an interview in which he described Steve Bannon's presumed relationship with his own anatomy, and was then fired within a week.

• PREVIOUSLY: 'What are you up to these days?' and other questions I'd like to avoid forever
• PREVIOUSLY: Every Canadian stereotype is terrible. Sorry, but I'm right and you know I'm right

In short, it's just been a typical week in the year of our lord 2017, in which reading the news is on par with submerging one's self into the grieving process. And, like the grieving process, reading the news today involves many steps.

Here they are:

Step 1: Disbelief

You cannot believe it. You cannot believe that whatever you read has happened and is happening and will likely happen again within the span of two days. This news is bananas. It is out of this world. It can't be true. You're lying to me.

Step 2: Acceptance and hope

Life moves pretty fast. But it might not always be this way. It might get better. This might be it. This might be the last straw. Soon, we could all be free.

Step 3: Depression

Oh, wait, no. More news has happened. Of course it's happened. It's always happening. It will never not happen. This is where we come to cry.

Step 4: Anger

But oh my God no, I hate all of this. I hate this and I hate him. I hate his stupid face and his stupid mouth. I hate his tiny hands and the outdated jokes about his tiny hands. I hate his voice, I hate it all. Everything is terrible. I even hate you.

Step 5: Apathy

Just kidding, nothing matters.

Step 6: Manic laughter

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Step 7: Distraction

I give up on writing and walk away from my computer, towards my cat. I pick him up like a baby and thank him for not being the news. He meows in protest and runs away as soon as I put him down. My editor emails me and asks when the "stages of grief" piece will be in. In that time, 14 breaking stories have happened, and I sit there reading them all.

Step 8: Irritation

Anyone who isn't the news is suddenly irritating. I want to read more news. I need the news. Who am I without the news?? We are nothing without the news. The news! News. I delete every email, nervous they will distract me from the news.

Step 9: Realization

It has been days. The news continues. I will never catch up. There is too much. It is the charmed Gringotts safe in Harry Potter, multiplying with every click. Everything is a distraction. Nothing is a distraction. Remember Sean Spicer? He worked at The White House 14 years ago. Who is Reince Priebus? He has been dead for 56 years.

Step 10: Escape

I sneak out under the cloak of darkness, holding my laptop under my arm. More news alerts. More tweets. I read them all. I read them while dismantling my keyboard and until my laptop goes dark. I hurl my laptop into the sea, realizing too late I am not at a lake but in a public swimming pool. I don't care. I am free of the news.

Step 11: Liberation

I am escorted out of the public pool by security, and I stand outside, watching the world the way Ed Norton and Helena Bonham-Carter do at the end of Fight Club. My phone goes off. More news. But now I'm ready. I take a deep breath and keep on walking, immune to the announcement that there will be a press conference today. I don't care. I'm free now. Who needs it?

…I do. I need it. I need to know. So much is happening. I cannot believe it. I cannot believe what is happening. The news is bananas. It can't be true.

We descend once more.

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