Have passion, outrage and righteous indignation "caught the last train for the coast"?

I am aware of "outrage fatigue", but have always understood it to be a temporary condition; one that a good night's sleep and maybe a long walk cured. With precious few exceptions, the politicians I hear commenting on TV and even the progressive talking heads seem to have "adjusted" to the plague of Trumpism and now see their function as simply repeating his insane tweets while shaking their heads and clucking their flaccid disapproval.

In contrast to this attitude, I have to daily find new ways to deal with the disgust, the revulsion and yes, at times, the white-hot anger that Trump has made a part of my life. I do not believe that we can survive as a nationthat we recognize if Trump is not removed and repudiated. He is an existential threat to our democracy and the future of my children and grandchildren. I will not accept him. I will not cooperate with his officials. I will not respect his supporters. I want him gone and I really don't care how that happens.

Spare me the "Don't stoop to his level". At my worst I have never been there. He is not my president and I refuse to pretend that he is.