Can I get a witness? (Please?)
As the week's gone on, it's become clearer and clearer to me that this horrible event at VA Tech that I can hardly name more specifically is not a thing I'll get over very soon. On Monday, I was in shock; Tuesday a little sad; Wednesday choking-back-tears sad and today I was choking back tears for the half-day that I was at work until I bailed and cried on the drive home. Finally.
And I know now that I won't be over this for a while, maybe quite a while. Because what happened isn't just sad, it's horrifying. And though I'm sure that I haven't really figured it all--or any of it--out, I have figured out that this is a thing that I have to handle, to deal with, to heal from--all the while feeling self-indulgent and guilty for having such a strong reaction. You see, I haven't lived there since 1996.
But it was a very important part of my life. I lived there for four years and loved it and love it still and everyone I talk to who went there is feeling similarly wrecked and surprised at their own shatter. People can't stop crying, people can't talk about it, people can't stop talking about it, people can't get enough of the coverage, people can't wait til we're back to Britney.
And I'd give myself a harder time for taking it all so hard if I thought any part of my reaction were controllable. But it's not. I can't not feel this sad. I can't not be totally normal and laughing one second and on the verge of tears the next, the lump in my throat swelling for the millionth time in a day. I can't not veer from sad to livid and--so help me and I do feel bad--but I couldn't not flick off the guy in traffic today who honked at me for no reason. I was pissed.
I can't not not do laundry. I can't not not wash the dishes. I can't not not talk in too many negatives.
I can't do anything but as little as possible. I did, however, make it to yoga this evening. With the teacher's permission, I made an announcement after class asking people to consider wearing orange and maroon tomorrow and to join Tech alumni at the north side of the Santa Monica Pier tomorrow at 7 pm for a candlelight vigil. No reaction. From anyone.
Then my teacher made her announcement and chuckled to ask if anyone else had any announcements. She's one of my favorite yoga teachers and still, at that minute, I thought a little less of her. And might for awhile.
No one came up to me after class. I wasn't really announcing the vigil or our colors for attention for myself--it really was for all of us Hokies here in LA--but I suppose I was expecting and hoping for a little sympathy.
But this is Southern California and the people who live here live 3,000 miles away from my old home, Blacksburg. They don't get it, they aren't affected, and you can't fake not being affected. So I made the announcement and then we all left.
I couldn't not feel a little disappointed, a little isolated, and very very far from home.
And I know now that I won't be over this for a while, maybe quite a while. Because what happened isn't just sad, it's horrifying. And though I'm sure that I haven't really figured it all--or any of it--out, I have figured out that this is a thing that I have to handle, to deal with, to heal from--all the while feeling self-indulgent and guilty for having such a strong reaction. You see, I haven't lived there since 1996.
But it was a very important part of my life. I lived there for four years and loved it and love it still and everyone I talk to who went there is feeling similarly wrecked and surprised at their own shatter. People can't stop crying, people can't talk about it, people can't stop talking about it, people can't get enough of the coverage, people can't wait til we're back to Britney.
And I'd give myself a harder time for taking it all so hard if I thought any part of my reaction were controllable. But it's not. I can't not feel this sad. I can't not be totally normal and laughing one second and on the verge of tears the next, the lump in my throat swelling for the millionth time in a day. I can't not veer from sad to livid and--so help me and I do feel bad--but I couldn't not flick off the guy in traffic today who honked at me for no reason. I was pissed.
I can't not not do laundry. I can't not not wash the dishes. I can't not not talk in too many negatives.
I can't do anything but as little as possible. I did, however, make it to yoga this evening. With the teacher's permission, I made an announcement after class asking people to consider wearing orange and maroon tomorrow and to join Tech alumni at the north side of the Santa Monica Pier tomorrow at 7 pm for a candlelight vigil. No reaction. From anyone.
Then my teacher made her announcement and chuckled to ask if anyone else had any announcements. She's one of my favorite yoga teachers and still, at that minute, I thought a little less of her. And might for awhile.
No one came up to me after class. I wasn't really announcing the vigil or our colors for attention for myself--it really was for all of us Hokies here in LA--but I suppose I was expecting and hoping for a little sympathy.
But this is Southern California and the people who live here live 3,000 miles away from my old home, Blacksburg. They don't get it, they aren't affected, and you can't fake not being affected. So I made the announcement and then we all left.
I couldn't not feel a little disappointed, a little isolated, and very very far from home.