The Cost of Your Silence

In any stable society, truth acts as a compass. It may be hard to follow at times, but it offers direction. Today, that compass is spinning—violently. And nowhere is that more evident than in the way we treat issues of identity, mental health, and the fragile boundaries of reality itself. We’ve entered a cultural era where the most obvious truths—like biological sex—must now be spoken in a whisper, if at all. To state them plainly is not just controversial—it’s dangerous. Lives, careers, reputations can be destroyed by a single refusal to affirm a lie. And as more people choose safety over honesty, our collective sanity suffers in silence. Gaslighting on a Cultural Scale Gaslighting, in its classic psychological definition, is when someone is manipulated into doubting their own perceptions of reality. But what happens when an entire society begins gaslighting itself? When we are told that a man can become a woman by declaration, and then punished for expressing discomfort, we are not having a political debate—we are being coerced into participating in mass delusion. Worse, those who resist aren’t seen as thoughtful dissenters, but as moral threats—bigots, transphobes, extremists. And so people—good people—stay quiet. They nod along. They use the pronouns. They silence their questions, not because they believe what they’re saying, but because they’re afraid. Cancel culture has made cowardice a social virtue. Philosophically, our age has lost its footing in objective truth. We traded the pursuit of reality for the worship of self-expression. “Live your truth” has replaced seek the truth. The result is a moral framework built not on reason or revelation, but on feelings—fluid, fragile, and easily manipulated. As Nietzsche warned, when truth dies, what remains is the will to power. In today’s landscape, truth doesn’t win by being true—it wins by being louder, trendier, and more marketable. And in that vacuum, those who speak difficult truths are painted as enemies of compassion, while those who perpetuate confusion are treated as saints. The Psychological Toll: Neglected Mental Illness in the Name of Progress This inversion of moral clarity has a profound psychological cost. Mental illness doesn’t disappear when we affirm it—it metastasizes. Gender dysphoria, body dysmorphia, delusional thinking—these are real and often excruciating mental health struggles. But instead of treating them, we now celebrate them as identities and shame anyone who suggests treatment, caution, or even patience. We’ve convinced ourselves that affirmation is love, even when affirmation means reinforcing a lie. We tell suffering people that their pain means they were born wrong—not that they need healing, support, or the safety of truth. And then we wonder why suicide rates remain high even after affirmation, surgery, or social acceptance. A Society Held Hostage by Fear The deepest tragedy isn’t that delusion exists—it always has. The tragedy is that we’ve lost the courage to say no to it. Our silence, born of fear, is now a form of complicity. We aren’t just avoiding conflict—we’re helping to institutionalize mental and moral collapse. Psychologically, this creates a second layer of damage: those who still see clearly are gaslit into self-doubt. They begin to wonder if they’re the problem. And slowly, they retreat. They become quiet, anxious, alienated—another casualty of a world where lies are polite and truth is offensive. The Way Back: Courage, Clarity, and Compassion We need to find our footing again. That doesn’t mean cruelty or rigid ideology—it means compassion rooted in reality. It means loving people enough to tell the truth, even when it’s hard. It means remembering that feelings are important—but they don’t define truth. Mental health requires more than affirmation. It requires integrity, structure, accountability, and hope. The people we’re afraid to offend are the very people who most need someone strong enough to love them through the confusion—not applaud it. And for those of us still clinging to truth in a world of mirrors: hold fast. Truth doesn’t become less true just because it’s unpopular. Courage begins not in grand gestures, but in the quiet resolve to say, “I see what I see. And I will not pretend otherwise.”

Taking shape

My functioning kitchen lasted from April 8th to May 8th.  Zach set up our utility sink, ovens, dishwasher, and microwave, and with my Instapot I was able to keep things pretty normal!

These got installed the 8th, and the templater came to measure for cabinets the next day.  Floform Countertops sat on their hands for a week, and then finally scheduled our installation for the 28th.  Kind of ironic that we've found help on KSL for free, even been paid by helpers, and all have been relatively professional.  The most costly service is these countertops, and the people at the Floform office were absolutely wishy-washy!

Zach wasted no time getting the rest of the flooring in.  I only helped for twenty minutes and then took the kids to Promontory point.

Meanwhile our awesome neighbors are getting their house ready to rent, and are letting us use the kitchen!  When it isn't raining (oh...my....gosh) we take our dishes over there, and sometimes use the oven.  It's so close, and there was already a path between the houses.

I love it that we don't have to use paper plates or plastic utensils!  The trip is so weird that the kids like to help, lol.  "Who wants to take the dishes to the dishwasher???"  Kael is usually the one who volunteers.


While we wait for cabinets, Zach has figured out how to build a shower for our master bathroom!

He's using Schluter Kerdi boards, which are some new waterproof material that's really strong, and easy to work with.  He loves the stuff.  I'm really impressed!

Putting it back together

We're finally past the tearing apart stage and now we're putting things back together.

Boys' first time painting with a roller.

Before tile.

We got to cut some funky floor pieces.

 And here's the finished floor.  It was a literal pain in the neck to put in... I haven't been able to bend or turn my head for the last five days. I finally went to a chiropractor and after two hours of trying to loosen up my muscles enough to do that neck pop thing, he said he'd never seen anything like it and gave up. Ha!  Well, thank goodness for Ibuprofen.

 We moved in the day after we put in the floor. The kids are supposed to be unpacking their rooms.  They know what needs to be done... it's not their first rodeo.  They aren't in a hurry to get their stuff though, when there are other cool things to distract them.

 I actually have a pretty functional kitchen!  A few tables, fridge, shelves, dishes, dishwasher, sink, dining table, toaster, microwave, oven, griddle.  We thought we'd barbecue, but... snow! Ha-- talk about January 99th.

 We're pretty sure we've gotten all the nails out of the floor.  We'll finish putting in the vinyl when the cabinets are in.  So far, I'm not really missing them.  The cabinet guy said April 29th, but I'm not holding my breath.  When he came to pick up a trim piece to measure with, he noted that we were already living in the house.  I was all ready to tell him it wasn't actually that bad, when he told me how as a child his family lived in a little house with no plumbing, no electricity, and no shingles while his dad was very sick for four years.  They lived off only what they grew in their garden. I told him I hope he'll write a memoir.  And his story worked-- I'm that much more grateful for my plumbing and electricity.  And Costco. :D

Off yer lazy bums, kids

Spring break is going to be a whole different animal for these kids this year.  It only took about thirty minutes of whining from the usual whiners (I'm huuuungry, this is too haaaard!) before we finally got into a working groove.  Zach likes to play the Guardians of the Galaxy station on Pandora while we work, so my kids sing along to a lot of 70's and early 80's songs.  Today we got all the trim and baseboards off and sanded them down.  We were going to paint some white but I'm sick of white trim, and I was worried about having some white and some dark, and this is really pretty oak... I didn't want to cover the grain.  So we're staining it all the same dark Kona brown.  It'll pretty much look black.

My mom is a sanding rockstar.  I hope I can sand like that when I'm in my 70s.  ;D

 I've already put in a few days of sanding, so I didn't care that I had the most fun job today.  Cutting the nails off. Good thing my dad didn't come, or he would have gotten it. ;D

The ceiling is now white.  Instead of slightly pinkish white.