As other posters said, why would I return to an abusive mother now that I know her for what she is?
When I was seventeen I expected the imminent destruction of the world, or at least the damnation of my country, which was then up to its ass in the Vietnam War. I retreated into a cult; we all know which one.
Eight years ago I woke up and left.
Today the political situation is very much as it was when I was seventeen. The same bitterness, the same fear, the same despair - mixed with more hope, because I can see the victories the old civil rights rabble-rousers attained as well as their defeats. We did the impossible (recycling, integration, voting rights, expose Watergate) before - we're still doing it (progress toward medical marijuana and gay marriage) - and we can do it again (reclaim patriotism for progressives; unmuzzle the media again; throw the rascals out!).
So I have nostalgia, rather than religious self-deceit, to soften the blows.
GentlyFeral