A hospice nurse turned writer reflects on mortality, a viral clip of despair, and why a life rooted in family, faith, and chosen battles feels more meaningful than what she sees as the empty promises of Leftism.
I used to be a hospice nurse and later made a career writing obituaries, earning the nickname “Grim Reaper” for covering a string of celebrity passings. Those experiences gave me a front-row seat to how people wind down their lives and what truly matters when the clock runs short. Facing death regularly rewired my sense of priorities and patience for the trivial dramas we pretend are epic.
When you spend time with people at the end of life, you start to notice patterns: regret over relationships not mended, missed chances to love louder, and a surprising clarity about what felt worth protecting. It makes the usual social noise look small and exhausting. That perspective drives me to seek small joys on bad days and to avoid wasting time on hollow battles.
On a personal note, I hate winter, but I’ll admit a snowy yard looks lovely when I don’t have to shovel it. I have bad days and pity parties like everyone else, but I try to make joy a habit rather than a rare event. That discipline matters when you’ve seen how fast things can change.
Recently a video stopped me in my scroll. It was raw and bleak in a way that stuck with me. (NSFW language warning)
“If you want to argue with me, I’ll argue, but I gotta let you know something: I’m willing to burn my whole f***ing life to the ground,” she says. “I don’t care. I got nothing to lose. I don’t want to be here, and I don’t believe in heaven. So f*** with somebody else.”
Hearing someone speak like that is chilling because it signals more than a moment of anger; it suggests a void, a loss of anchors that normally make life survivable. The idea that nothing matters in this life and nothing follows it is the bleakest script I can imagine. It makes you worry about the safety nets that should catch people before they fall this far.
I’ll make an intuitive leap here: the person in that clip likely leans left politically, and she is far from unique. We’ve seen many similar videos and rants that read like a catalog of frustration and personal collapse. That pattern raises the question of what the promised political answers actually deliver in everyday life.
Back in the day, I heard claims that leaning left or rejecting traditional bonds would bring freedom, enlightenment, and moral clarity. The pitch was to politicize everything and make the right political choices the axis of your identity. Yet the lived results I observe often look like resentment, alienation, and chronic dissatisfaction rather than liberation.
I rarely see videos of Leftists who seem genuinely content with their jobs, family ties, or communities. Instead you get a steady stream of grievance, a sense that nothing is ever good enough, and an identity built around being wronged. That perpetual victimhood erodes the capacity for joy and for building deep, resilient relationships.
Compare that to a life where politics plays a part but does not define every interaction. I have people I love and small routines that bring pleasure: movies, books, cross-stitch, the gym, travel, and quiet moments with family. Those things ground me and give me causes worth defending without turning everything into a referendum on my self-worth.
When life has meaning, you pick your battles and protect the things that matter instead of burning everything down when frustration spikes. Meaningful attachments and a belief in something beyond immediate politics create a sturdier emotional life. That’s why I find the promise of Leftism, as I’ve experienced it, hollow—too often it promises salvation through ideology but leaves people lonelier and angrier.
The clip I saw was a reminder that ideology alone cannot mend a life. People need roots, responsibilities, and reasons to keep going, not continuous outrage packaged as virtue. The choice to build a life around relationship, duty, and selective fights feels less flashy but far more durable than a life that expects politics to fill every empty place. Leftism, in too many cases I’ve watched up close, offers big rhetoric but small comfort.
