Trying to Process it All
It's been three days since the shooting. Three days of hearing horror stories. Three days of looking for family members. Three days of forwarding "missing person" posts. Three days of listening to theories, comfort attempts, debates, friends crying, news stories that tell me nothing. Three days of trying to process the overwhelming.
I have had to take a minute and a breath, each of those three days, more than once. I just can't seem to shake it. A family friend was shot while he was working, some one we call brother. Two friends have family members that they still haven't heard from. Many friends have friends that they still haven't heard from. People who are bonded with me by a spiritual connection have lost friends and family members in death. Mothers and fathers that I have never met are posting on Facebook in desperate attempts to find any information about missing sons and daughters. Friends that I have known for decades are shedding tears of joy that they are not among those to have lost someone close to them. I have fought back my own tears because it is all just to much heartache to bear. Most of it isn't directly mine, but I can't take it. My heart is broken.
I have cried out of an abundance of guilt. I was chatting with my little cousin (who is actually a very young adult) about a favor she had asked of me, when she saw the news. She was so worried about her friends that had gone out Sunday night. I tried to be understanding of her stress, but I couldn't focus on it. I had family and friends as well that I suddenly needed to check on. And hours later, when I found out that my mother was safe along with most people I could think to call, I felt so very guilty for my lack of concern for her panic. Then over the next 24 hours I started thinking of more people that I needed to check on, some of them relatives, and the guilt compounded. By the end of the day, Monday, I had learned about the son of a very good friend who had been working the concert and been shot, my friend's missing uncle, the fact that no one can get a hold of my dad's sister, in spite of her apparently not having attended the concert, my mother's co-worker who lost her daughter that night. Obviously, I am the least affected by this tragedy, so I have no right to feel the amount sorrow that I do. The fact that I am distraught over it anyway makes me feel guilty. Apparently that is the emotion of the week.
I really believe that part of my inability to come to terms with the tragedy is the fact that is just the most recent in a series of devastating events. Yes, what happened in Vegas hit closer to home than what happened in Texas, Louisiana, and Florida, because it is my home town and I have a lot of friends and family there. It was even more personal to me than what is happening in Puerto Rico, where I have family that I don't share any close relationships with. But it is more simple than that. I am an empathetic person. Like most people I know, it bothers me to see humans suffer. There has been no respite between events that have caused unimaginable suffering these last months.
This world has gotten smaller in my adulthood. I have known someone who was inconvenienced at best by each hurricane, and now this. Each disaster was very real in my mind because I got to hear some first hand accounts of some of them. And each disaster came close on the heels of the one before it. Before I could start to think less of the trouble people were facing, a new set of people were in desperate need, and now this. Before Texas, Louisiana, Florida, or Puerto Rico could say that there were any solid plans in place to help people pick up the pieces, the next one was getting hit, and now this. It's no wonder I haven't been able to confront my emotions and find a way to live on in spite of them.
I will live on. I will be happy and I will be able to accept the facts that I am unable to change. Eventually. Today, I am miserable. I am trying to take comfort in bible truths. Each time I meditate on the spirituality that has gotten me through so many incredibly rough days, I am comforted for a few minutes more than the time before. It's a start. It's the fact that is hopefully going to keep me from finally breaking down as I finish this paragraph. If it doesn't prevent the ugly crying and desperate pleading for an end to human suffering, it will be what helps me pick up the pieces afterwards. I pray whole-heartedly and near constantly that all of the people hurting today, have such comfort as they to pick up the pieces.
We wanted to show some solidarity in our mourning, so three of us are posting our perspectives on the Vegas tragedy at the same time. Here are the links to the other two articles:
My Hometown is Hurting
I have had to take a minute and a breath, each of those three days, more than once. I just can't seem to shake it. A family friend was shot while he was working, some one we call brother. Two friends have family members that they still haven't heard from. Many friends have friends that they still haven't heard from. People who are bonded with me by a spiritual connection have lost friends and family members in death. Mothers and fathers that I have never met are posting on Facebook in desperate attempts to find any information about missing sons and daughters. Friends that I have known for decades are shedding tears of joy that they are not among those to have lost someone close to them. I have fought back my own tears because it is all just to much heartache to bear. Most of it isn't directly mine, but I can't take it. My heart is broken.
I have cried out of an abundance of guilt. I was chatting with my little cousin (who is actually a very young adult) about a favor she had asked of me, when she saw the news. She was so worried about her friends that had gone out Sunday night. I tried to be understanding of her stress, but I couldn't focus on it. I had family and friends as well that I suddenly needed to check on. And hours later, when I found out that my mother was safe along with most people I could think to call, I felt so very guilty for my lack of concern for her panic. Then over the next 24 hours I started thinking of more people that I needed to check on, some of them relatives, and the guilt compounded. By the end of the day, Monday, I had learned about the son of a very good friend who had been working the concert and been shot, my friend's missing uncle, the fact that no one can get a hold of my dad's sister, in spite of her apparently not having attended the concert, my mother's co-worker who lost her daughter that night. Obviously, I am the least affected by this tragedy, so I have no right to feel the amount sorrow that I do. The fact that I am distraught over it anyway makes me feel guilty. Apparently that is the emotion of the week.
I really believe that part of my inability to come to terms with the tragedy is the fact that is just the most recent in a series of devastating events. Yes, what happened in Vegas hit closer to home than what happened in Texas, Louisiana, and Florida, because it is my home town and I have a lot of friends and family there. It was even more personal to me than what is happening in Puerto Rico, where I have family that I don't share any close relationships with. But it is more simple than that. I am an empathetic person. Like most people I know, it bothers me to see humans suffer. There has been no respite between events that have caused unimaginable suffering these last months.
This world has gotten smaller in my adulthood. I have known someone who was inconvenienced at best by each hurricane, and now this. Each disaster was very real in my mind because I got to hear some first hand accounts of some of them. And each disaster came close on the heels of the one before it. Before I could start to think less of the trouble people were facing, a new set of people were in desperate need, and now this. Before Texas, Louisiana, Florida, or Puerto Rico could say that there were any solid plans in place to help people pick up the pieces, the next one was getting hit, and now this. It's no wonder I haven't been able to confront my emotions and find a way to live on in spite of them.
I will live on. I will be happy and I will be able to accept the facts that I am unable to change. Eventually. Today, I am miserable. I am trying to take comfort in bible truths. Each time I meditate on the spirituality that has gotten me through so many incredibly rough days, I am comforted for a few minutes more than the time before. It's a start. It's the fact that is hopefully going to keep me from finally breaking down as I finish this paragraph. If it doesn't prevent the ugly crying and desperate pleading for an end to human suffering, it will be what helps me pick up the pieces afterwards. I pray whole-heartedly and near constantly that all of the people hurting today, have such comfort as they to pick up the pieces.
We wanted to show some solidarity in our mourning, so three of us are posting our perspectives on the Vegas tragedy at the same time. Here are the links to the other two articles:
My Hometown is Hurting
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