Google Something Clever 2.0: I Don't Want to Talk About It

Dec 18, 2012

I Don't Want to Talk About It

I don’t want to talk about what happened in Connecticut. I don’t want to read about it. But I feel compelled to explain myself. You may have noticed that I’m one of the few people on the internet who hasn't said much about it, other than this:

This is because I have nothing else to say. That hasn't stopped some people. I've seen a lot of people on Twitter, Facebook, and blog posts saying a whole lot of nothing: "I'm devastated." "This is a tragedy." Even "There are no words..." or "I don't know what to say." I understand that for these people, this is authentic, and they feel like it must be said. But not for me.

I don't want you to think I'm an asshole because I'm not tweeting "I'm sad" every half-hour. Of course I'm sad. I'm a human being. I just don't feel like I have anything relevant to add to the discussion.

I've even heard about people getting angry at others for talking about anything but Connecticut. To me, that's offensive. There are those out there that are all up in arms that someone else dares to live their life and focus on anything but that incident, for even a moment. They're using words like "insensitive" and "selfish." That is beyond ridiculous. I happened across a profile on Twitter today who had been called out for tweeting about a book.

Tweeting about a book. The mere act of tweeting about anything other than those children was apparently a selfish act, according to some asshole on the internet. If you agree with that, please run head-first into a brick wall right now. She explained herself quite eloquently:

She's right. They don't need our tweets. What do they need? I don't know. Maybe they need hugs. Maybe they need someone to make them dinner for the next couple of weeks, while they try to put their lives back together. Maybe they need money for funeral expenses. But I'm going to go out on a limb and try to put myself in those grieving parents' shoes for a moment: If that was me, I wouldn't give a good god damn about your internet activity.

So now you understand why I don't want to talk about it. I have nothing worthwhile to contribute.

Why don't I want to read about it?

I am a wuss. I am extremely sensitive. I am physically incapable of watching the news. When I saw "I Am Sam" in the theater (as in, surrounded by a hundred strangers), I cried seventeen times. Perhaps I come off as bad-ass (I hope), but I'm really very delicate. I still don't know exactly what Michael Vick did, other than something very bad involving dogs. And now, of course, I'll have to have my husband screen the comments for this post before I read them, because I'm terrified that some asshole will try to tell me.

I know what happened in Connecticut. And it's awful. So awful. But I don't need to know how many bullets went into each victim. I don't need to see their photos. And I sure as hell don't need to see interviews with eight-year-olds describing what they went through. None of that is helping anyone.

I understand that a lot of bloggers view their blogs as a form of therapy, and they must get their thoughts out. And some readers might take comfort in their words. But I just can't think about it anymore.

I don't need you to tell me how tightly I should be hugging my son. I don't need to see people argue about whether this is or isn't the "right time" to talk about gun control, or how this might have been prevented.

If you are outraged about gun control or mental health care, please contact your elected officials, who may be able to do something of consequence. 

If you would like to provide financial support to the families who were affected, please get in touch with Newtown Youth & Family Services, Newtown Parent Connection or The United Way of Western Connecticut

If your child wants to help, the school is requesting that they make snowflakes. You can learn more from the Connecticut PTSA.

This is the only way I know to be of help, and I hope that's enough for you.