President Trump may not care, but a significant portion of the American public is not cheering him on. They are put off by his crude language, his self-absorption, his thirst for retribution, and much more. Yet that does not automatically mean they suffer from Trump Derangement Syndrome—the label his loyalists throw at anyone who criticizes him.
There is another ailment the president has inflicted on the nation: Trump Fatigue. I recognize the symptoms because I have it.
Every single day with this president brings a fresh firestorm. Trump may thrive on a daily dose of turmoil, but most of us do not. Chaos and conflict are his fuel, his lifeblood. But after years of this, they are precisely what drain the rest of us.
There is rarely a moment to process one controversy before the next one slams into us.
On his first day back in office, Trump granted pardons to nearly all those convicted in connection with the January 6, 2021 Capitol riot, and commuted sentences for several others. His official statement called the prosecutions a “grave national injustice.”
That was just the opening act.
Since then, in no particular order—because with Trump there is no particular order—he has floated the idea of Canada becoming the 51st state. He has threatened to seize Greenland, at one point refusing to rule out military action. He renamed the Gulf of Mexico the Gulf of America, and later issued an executive order to rename Lake Ontario as Lake America.
He has never stopped claiming the 2020 election was stolen. Yet at the Republican midterm convention in Dallas last month, he asked supporters to pledge that they would “cheat like hell,” arguing that Democrats routinely cheat in elections.
Pause and think about that. The man who has spent years telling Americans that cheating undermined an election was now leading his followers in a pledge to cheat.
The hits kept coming. He barred CNN, MSNBC, and Politico from the White House because he disliked their coverage. His administration later defended those bans in court, citing national security. He took over the Kennedy Center’s board, and his name was added to the building—above that of John F. Kennedy. A federal judge later ruled the board overstepped, and Trump’s name was removed.
He demolished the White House East Wing to build a grand golden ballroom. Now he wants a 250-foot triumphal arch near Arlington National Cemetery—dubbed by some the “Arc de Trump.” When legal and preservation challenges arose, he announced it would also be a “Military Complex/Triumphal Arch,” complete with drones, snipers, and ammunition, which he said were necessary for national security.
You could not make this up. If you did, no studio would buy the script.
Then there are the childish nicknames he hands out to Democrats—or “Dumocrats,” as he calls them. Texas Senate candidate James Talarico becomes “James Talafreako.” New York Mayor Zohran Mamdani is “my little communist.” Senate Democratic leader Chuck Schumer is “Cryin’ Chuck Schumer.” And Democrats generally are now “communists,” with some elevated—or demoted—to “hardcore, godless communists.”
As Joe Biden might say: “Come on, man.”
Enough already. That is the essence of Trump Fatigue. It is not the same as hating Trump. It is not even necessarily about disagreeing with his policies. You can back his stance on the border, taxes, regulation, or foreign policy and still wonder why every day must bring another insult, another provocation, another grandiose scheme, another enemy, another controversy.
Trump Derangement Syndrome is said to afflict people who cannot stop thinking about Trump. Trump Fatigue describes those who would occasionally like a break from thinking about him. But Trump makes that nearly impossible. He does not merely occupy the presidency; he occupies the national conversation. Morning, noon, and night, there he is—demanding attention, picking fights, settling scores, handing out nicknames, announcing something no one saw coming.
After nearly a decade of this, perhaps the remarkable thing is not that some Americans are outraged by Donald Trump. Maybe it is that so many of us are just plain tired.
Tired of every day being another episode in the longest-running reality show in American political history. Tired of wondering what he said now. Tired of the outrage from one side and the reflexive defense from the other. Tired of a country that cannot talk about anything without Trump becoming the subject.
Ten minutes after Trump opens his mouth, some of us need a nap. We are exhausted. And we know one thing for sure: tomorrow, there will be another episode of the Trump show.
That may be good for ratings. But it is hell on all of us suffering from Trump Fatigue.
Bernard Goldberg is an Emmy and Alfred I. duPont-Columbia University award-winning writer and journalist. He is the author of five books and publishes exclusive weekly columns, audio commentaries, and Q&As on his Substack page.
