John Fetterman Must Resign: Mental Health Is No Excuse for Mayhem in the Senate

By Michael Kelman Portney

You can support mental health awareness and still say: this guy shouldn't be a senator.

In fact, if you don’t say it now, you’re complicit in one of the most bizarre political cover-ups in recent American history. This isn’t just a story about a man struggling after a stroke. This is about a man melting down in front of union leaders, screaming “Why does everyone hate me?” while slamming his fists on the table. A U.S. Senator. In an official meeting. Red-faced and unhinged like a boss at a failing startup.

John Fetterman is unraveling. And instead of accountability, we’re getting Instagram memes, hoodie photo ops, and political gaslighting from the very people who know damn well he’s not okay.

It’s time for Senator John Fetterman to resign.

The Case Isn't Personal. It's Professional.

Let’s be clear from the start: this isn’t a hit job. This is a job evaluation. And the facts, like his missed votes and public outbursts, scream louder than any partisan spin.

In 2022, Fetterman suffered a massive stroke — one serious enough to keep most people home from work for a year, let alone run for federal office. In 2023, he checked himself into Walter Reed for clinical depression. Brave? Absolutely. But “brave” doesn’t mean “qualified.” You don’t get to sit on the bridge of the ship just because you were honest about your seasickness.

You either can steer, or you can’t. And this ship is listing.

Now, in 2025, reports are mounting: erratic behavior behind closed doors, missed votes, volatile mood swings, and an isolation spiral so deep he’s allegedly now cozying up to Donald Trump.

That’s not recovery. That’s relapse — and it’s dragging the institution of the Senate down with it.

The Outburst Heard 'Round the Hill

Let’s talk about the desk-slamming meltdown.

In a meeting with the Pennsylvania State Education Association (PSEA) and National Education Association (NEA), Fetterman reportedly erupted. Multiple attendees confirmed he was agitated, yelling, slamming his hands on the table, and demanding to know, “Why does everyone hate me?” One staffer left the meeting in tears.

It wasn’t just awkward. It was alarming.

This wasn’t a protest on the floor or a fiery speech. This was supposed to be a routine meeting with education professionals. Instead, it turned into an emotional hostage situation, starring a man whose grip on his role — and possibly reality — seems to be loosening.

This is the kind of thing that would tank a CEO or get a teacher benched for evaluation. But in the Senate? It’s brushed off with, “He’s just passionate.” No. Passion is when you fight for policy. This was raw panic — directed at allies — in a high-stakes professional setting.

The Fallout from Inside the Camp

According to New York Magazine, Fetterman’s own staff have been concerned about his behavior for months — if not longer. His former chief of staff, Adam Jentleson, reportedly left out of frustration and worry. Sources described a pattern of “frequent mood swings,” emotional volatility, and apparent medical noncompliance.

“He is not well,” one source said. And yet the machine rolls on.

Fetterman has pushed back, calling the story a “smear” and dismissing concerns as politically motivated. But the fact that these concerns are coming from people who once worked for him — not opposition operatives — shreds that defense.

If your team’s throwing up red flags, and your first response is to accuse them of sabotage, that’s not strength. That’s denial.

Governance Isn’t Optional

Fetterman has missed more roll-call votes than any other senator in 2025. His only major in-state appearance this year was a January Farm Show. That’s it. One farm show.

For comparison, even the laziest senators (yes, looking at you, Kyrsten Sinema) manage to at least pretend they’re working. Fetterman can’t be bothered.

Constituents didn’t vote for a hoodie. They voted for a representative. And they’re getting radio silence.

Worse, Fetterman is reportedly drifting into ideological no-man’s-land. After branding himself a progressive voice of the people, he’s now aligning with right-wing priorities and even attending meetings at Mar-a-Lago. Is this a political pivot or a cry for help?

Either way, the result is the same: he’s isolated from both his party and his people.

When Empathy Becomes Enabling

We need to talk about the toxic kindness that’s enabling this collapse.

It’s become taboo to criticize Fetterman, even when the evidence is overwhelming. Why? Because people don’t want to be seen as “ableist” or “insensitive.” And so, they lower the bar. They ignore the missed votes, the screaming fits, the policy flip-flops, and the growing chorus of concern from staff, voters, and reporters.

This isn’t compassion. This is cowardice dressed in virtue-signaling.

It’s okay — even moral — to say: “We love you, but you can’t do this job right now.”

Would we let an airline pilot who just had a stroke fly commercial jets? No? Then why the hell are we letting a man with visible cognitive challenges serve in one of the most powerful legislative bodies in the world?

The Precedent and the Stakes

There’s precedent for resignation. Senator Mark Dayton of Minnesota resigned in 2006 citing health and stress. Senator Tim Johnson of South Dakota, after suffering a brain hemorrhage, faced serious discussions about stepping down — though he eventually returned. These men were respected, and their choices (or considerations) reflected a deep sense of duty.

Fetterman’s current approach? It’s not duty. It’s deflection.

Worse, it sets a dangerous precedent: that senators can stay in office indefinitely, regardless of capacity, as long as they’re politically useful or social media-friendly.

But the Senate isn’t a reality show. It’s where war gets declared. It’s where constitutional rights live or die. And right now, Pennsylvania has no seat at that table — just a man banging on it, wondering why everyone’s mad.

Call It What It Is

This isn’t just a “bad week” or a “mental health journey.”

This is dysfunction. Disintegration. And the longer we pretend otherwise, the more damage we do — to the institution, to the voters, and ironically, to Fetterman himself.

Resigning wouldn’t be a disgrace. It would be an act of integrity.

He could seek continued treatment, reset his life, and return to public service in a role that fits his capacity. But staying in office, hiding behind party spin and media deflection, only guarantees one thing: more chaos.

Conclusion: A Path to Dignity

Fetterman has a choice: go out with dignity, or cling to power until the collapse is total.

The tragedy isn’t that he’s struggling. The tragedy is that no one close to him — not his family, not his party, not his staff — has the courage to publicly say what we all can see.

We need a functioning Senate. Pennsylvania deserves real representation. And Fetterman deserves a life that’s not constantly breaking under the weight of public scrutiny and internal distress.

It’s time to stop pretending. It’s time to tell the truth.

John Fetterman must resign.