Self-preservation

Right now, there is this heavy humidity hanging over this loss corner of the blogosphere, like before a storm, where the heat is oppressive and the air thick. The clouds need to just open up and rain.

I believe that our community is facing a deep existential crisis. From what I can see, we are wrestling with some deep questions about unconditional support, about what is acceptable and what is not, about where empathy ends and self-preservation begins. We have an inclination to accept people unconditionally in this community. It is a good instinct, except when someone pushes the bounds of decency.

Sometimes a post really embodies the extreme fringe element of our community's feelings. So many of us have had fleeting, and not so fleeting, thoughts about who has it harder, why isn't that person commenting or following my blog anymore, loss of hope, jealousy of pregnancy and parenting, deep questions about why me. I can say when I read that as a normal, daily moral crisis on someone's blog, I think, "Those feelings are normal. Accept them. Forgive yourself for them. Move forward." But when does it go too far? When does the anger, fear and vitriol become too toxic? When does the grief anger cross a line?

We all make deep choices about how we want to learn from our experiences of loss. Some of those feelings, while natural and normal, suck us into an abyss, obsess us, haunt us. But ultimately, we must choose where we want to reside--in the darkness or in the light. We can choose to transform our loss. In my case, the death of my daughter has made me feel more compassion. I feel more able to understand suffering in all its forms, not just mine. When someone tells me of their miscarriage, I don't hear a challenge. I hear someone connecting with my grief, my suffering, and my heartbreak. It is a gesture of kindness and empathy, not dismissal of my stillborn daughter. But then again, I am seeking connections, not rejecting them.

In terms of blogs and blogging, I have taken this philosophy. It is what I call the "Turn the fucking channel" (TTFC) approach. This blog is my space, and each blog is its writer's space to say whatever it is they need to say. It is also my choice about what I want to read. I have felt a great devastation for some of the losses in this community, especially this month. It has affected this community a great deal, and personally, destroyed what little faith I had in the universe. I am still reeling at the injustice of it all. But it is also difficult to read so much vitriol and violence in the wake of that loss, even as I am deeply empathetic for the grief from which it stems. I understand grief expresses itself in anger and rage, but when it edges into violence, I need to draw my line. TTFC, so to speak.

But in doing so, I don't want to walk away from this community, even if that move feels safest some days. It feels safest because I come to this place to be understood, to be gotten...I am fragile. Sure, I become steely and tough when I leave my little house, but when I come here, I give this space my worst moments, my most beautiful revelations, my most shameful thoughts. Though others have it worse than me in this chaotic world, I still need to speak of my suffering, acknowledge the grief, mourn my baby. To have my grief invalidated over and over again in a space I have freely chosen to read feels masochistic and cruel, even though I have gone there to give my support and love. I have read those words slack-jawed and saddened. I do understand where they come from--the depths of grief. That I understand, but when I read people normalizing such violence...have we gone mad? Have we forgotten who we are? Our children died. As a community, I am deeply troubled to see people echoing this violent language, and honestly, this bullying. No matter how shitty life has been, it does not excuse death threats, threats towards someone's fertility or babies, or even the comments that equally express rage and curses. (Not f-bomb curses, Lord knows I am not throwing any fucking stones about that, but literal curses--"May you suffer" curse.)

And yet, the beauty of this blog community is that in your own space, you are free to speak your mind, to reveal your pain, your anger, your hatred, and yes, even your violence, but I for one am too fragile to be part of it. I guess I am turning the fucking channel and walking towards the light, but not walking away from this community.