I’ve had nightmares all week.

This is not unusual. I dream wildly and vividly. But last week my social media feed was full of violence and hatred, bringing the night demons out to play.

I’m talking about posts and footage from Charlottesville. Scenes of white supremacists marching and organising, hateful slogans roared with flames in hand, even footage from the dreadful murder scene has been clogging my Facebook feed for days. All shared with no content or trigger warning.

Adding to that, I’m bombarded by interviews with Nazis, insights from KKK headquarters and a pundit’s deciphering of hate speech. It’s all scary stuff.

But it’s not new. The far right has always scared me. As an activist, I’m constantly at rallies, demonstrations and marches of causes I hold dear. But as a woman of colour, there’s no possible way I would ever attend a counter-protest of the far right. I have always feared their blind hatred would turn violent, and at Charlottesville, this tragically turned out to be the case.

My fear isn’t limited to their ideas, the public display of hatred or the direction in which they’re pulling our country. I am concerned for my physical safety.

Life as a woman of colour in Australia is punctuated by insults, verbal abuse and shouts of “go back to where you came from”. After a while you can read the tone of the hatred and know there is no logic or reason. It’s done by completely irrational people that, given the right circumstances, might lash out. At a young age, you learn when to fight back and when to sit silent. The threat of physical violence is ever-present.

For us, the goal is not always about justice or standing up against racism. Sometimes our actions are about staying alive.

This defies everything I know about creating social change – show love, bring people closer, break down barriers. In this instance, I cannot live the values I espouse.

It’s a strange feeling, being hated for absolutely no reason. It’s a sickening awareness that makes your nerves raw and puts you on edge. For this reason, I have no interest in seeing inside the KKK, finding out what fuels Nazis or hearing ideas of seriously disturbed individuals with abhorrent values. I know what they stand for and it’s plain wrong. I have no perverse fascination to hear more.

And for me, it’s not as bad as it could be. I’m writing from a position of privilege. I wear western clothes, I speak English, I have an Australian accent. My real fear is for all those who don’t have these safety nets. For them, this is a frightening time.

Pauline Hanson chose a hell of a week to don a burqa in the Australian parliament, ridiculing an already tormented minority who are on edge at world events. There are evidently no barriers to her shameless stunts, and she will get a poll bump as a result. The far right is alive and well in Australia.

If you think Charlottesville can’t happen in Australia, think again. Two years ago, on the 10-year anniversary of the Cronulla riots, one of the violent offenders said he was “not ashamed” of the stance he took.

Our parliament recently had a long, drawn-out debate about the appropriateness of hate speech in society. Led by senator George Brandis, we were told that people have the right to be bigots.

Last month the Islamophobia in Australia report revealed what many of us already know. That racist attacks against Muslims are rife, and women are most often the target of physical and verbal abuse.

Looking at the whole picture, it seems to me we’re on the edge of another Cronulla.

Racial tensions are at a high, being actively fuelled by leaders like Hanson and Donald Trump who make hate permissible.

In Charlottesville, we saw how easily hateful words can turn into hateful actions, dividing the community and tearing the fabric of society.

I cannot go to protests against racism due to the heightened tensions that are too real and visible to people of colour. I do, however, thank those who fight back, not just on my behalf but for all Australians. For the sickness that is hate and racism makes us all ill.

White people – do your part, because this is not something that happens to “someone else”. Society and the integrity of your community is at stake. In the words of this week’s murdered warrior, Heather Heyer: “If you’re not outraged, you’re not paying attention.”

