(no subject)
20 January 2021 18:53![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
haptalaonI've all but given up going on tumblr; it feels like too much external stimulus, too many *other minds*
But part of the problem also is, I guess, the casual callousness of being around so many people for whom the current bad times are temporary. A lot of the problems people are talking about - social isolation, insecure work, unplannable futures - are very much my normal, due to social factors that in normal times, it's hard to get anybody to care about.
Last January and February were the two months that, for the first time in a long time, I finally felt safe and well; international crises come at a good time for nobody, but knowing we got that close to being OK feels bitter. Since then, we lost our house, and our financial floor, and my family.
One is isolated from others by social distance; the distance between your social experience and theirs.
Seeing the mass fragility of the world is, in many ways, more alienating. A lot of people who have made a career hurting you, twisting to defend you now they've realised they can cause far more harm by using you as a prop to hurt others. I try not to think about it and listen to the rain; but the nature of trauma is the loss of necessary illusions - and such things can't be regained. The weight of grief is too much, too much to mourn or rebuild from, barely out of one crisis before another hits.
It becomes hard to participate in a world which you know, you know sees you as acceptable losses; and once plague times are done, rebuilding will be focused on the people for whom this was temporary. The way things ought to be, is that people like you get to look, but not touch.
It makes one feel a little anti-social.
But part of the problem also is, I guess, the casual callousness of being around so many people for whom the current bad times are temporary. A lot of the problems people are talking about - social isolation, insecure work, unplannable futures - are very much my normal, due to social factors that in normal times, it's hard to get anybody to care about.
Last January and February were the two months that, for the first time in a long time, I finally felt safe and well; international crises come at a good time for nobody, but knowing we got that close to being OK feels bitter. Since then, we lost our house, and our financial floor, and my family.
One is isolated from others by social distance; the distance between your social experience and theirs.
Seeing the mass fragility of the world is, in many ways, more alienating. A lot of people who have made a career hurting you, twisting to defend you now they've realised they can cause far more harm by using you as a prop to hurt others. I try not to think about it and listen to the rain; but the nature of trauma is the loss of necessary illusions - and such things can't be regained. The weight of grief is too much, too much to mourn or rebuild from, barely out of one crisis before another hits.
It becomes hard to participate in a world which you know, you know sees you as acceptable losses; and once plague times are done, rebuilding will be focused on the people for whom this was temporary. The way things ought to be, is that people like you get to look, but not touch.
It makes one feel a little anti-social.
