Upset

Yesterday, someone placed bombs at the finish line of a major American event. These bombs were filled with ball bearings meant to rip through flesh and bone causing maximum damage. They waited to set off the bombs until the largest pack of runners was crossing the finish line, hours after the winners had crossed. Everything was coordinated to cause the most damage and terror possible. It worked.

I’m upset, and I’m not entirely sure what to do with my upset.

I’m an emotional and empathetic person. It is part of what makes me a good friend/daughter/girlfriend/writer/caretaker/human being.  I told my dad what happened yesterday when he got off work and then went to the store. I was so upset in the store, I forgot the main reason I went, and I cried on the way home. It doesn’t make me weak or stupid. It makes me human.

I still don’t know what to do with the upset. I want to call the Viking and make him listen to me cry, because he is my safe place. Tonight, perhaps, I will do that. Chances are I will write through my thoughts on my blue legal pads were my scratch thoughts go. I won’t stop trying to feel.

I can say I learned/realized somethings about people and social media.

My very first instinct after reading the new reports was to go to Facebook. It is the easiest connection to those I care about, and I needed connection right then.

I have spent a lot of my social media life rolling my eyes at things people do on Facebook. ‘If we get one million likes’ or ‘good Americans/Christians/Atheists/moose lovers will repost this, but 98% of your friends won’t be brave enough to’ posts are still obnoxious. There are still people being fake on Facebook and attention whore. It is just like real life.

What I learned to stop rolling my eyes at are genuine posts from people with things like “Pray for Boston” or “Thoughts for Boston.” I used to think these posts were as useless as tits on a boar hog. I felt they were grandstanding, trying to show how good the person is. Some of these posts still are. Other people, though, post these things because they don’t know how else to say “I’m hurting, and I need connection.” Being confused, hurt, or scared isn’t weakness. It is being human.

I saw a lot of the opposite end of the spectrum, too. I saw a lot of posts basically calling people idiots for writing about being scared, hurt, or confused. I really wanted to lash out on these posts. Yes, bad things happen all over the world every day; many with greater damage than what happened yesterday. Yes, your prayers and thoughts don’t regrow limbs or pay for medical bills. Yes, many of these people posting things right now won’t do anything “useful” to help the victims. They do show others of us that we are hurting, and sometimes, when you are a weird overly empathetic girl in  Oklahoma on the verge of tears because you don’t know what to do with your upset, seeing you are not alone does a lot of good.

Oh, I wanted to lash out, and I did a little. Then I got to thinking.

Cynicism is another way of coping. The world is a scary, dark, dangerous place if you look too hard at  only the wrong things. There is no such thing as truly being safe. You never know what is going to happen, and we have no control over anything but ourselves. Bad things happen on both big and little scales every moment of every day. It is scary as shit. Sometimes, people find the best way to deal with it is to armor themselves against it. They wrap themselves in logic and a mild disdain for the world. I get it now, and I can’t begrudge them that any more than they can begrudge me saying “I’m hurting, is there anyone else out there?”

I also learned something else. A few weeks back, I changed my profile picture and that of the site’s Facebook pace to the pink and red equal signs. It was a profoundly useless gesture. The Supreme Court isn’t going to look at Facebook and change their opinions. No politician or homophobic is going to see my little pink and red picture and see the light. It’s not going to happen. You know what did happen though? I saw my friends list become a field of pink and red equals signs, and I realized how many of my friends are with me on something I believe in. I felt a part of something. It won’t change the world, but it did bolster me. I don’t consider it totally useless.

(Yes, I know that is self-serving and narcissistic, but everyone is, we just like to pretend we aren’t. If it helps me, and it helps someone else, then  it does serve a purpose.)