I’ve had a rough couple of weeks. And I don’t even mean because I’ve spent the better part of two nights “on the lam” (that’s prison speak for HIDING FROM THE POLICE) in my fake mustache and floppy hat.
Because I am not a “planner” and in fact my five-year plan still really is “don’t die” and if pressed is more like “don’t get scurvy and die,” I’ve been in the middle of several gigantic projects. Normal people might have let some of them slip so that they could focus more effectively on one, but since no one has ever accused me of being normal, smart, pretty, cool, awesome, or anything else that might be considered a compliment, I, instead, decided to plow through them. I’m happier when I’m in the middle of a zillion things anyway.
But in the middle of all of this, I realized that I’ve been sort of, well, frustrated.
My normal emotional range looks like this:
I want a nap <-> I want a cheeseburger <-> I really want a nap <-> OOOOH! SHINY
So when I feel anything beyond that, I’m never quite sure what to do. I’m going to therapy now, so I suppose I should start working on this “feelings” bullshit everyone is telling me about. Apparently not having feelings makes you a serial killer. WHATEVER.
But I’ve been feeling pulled in a zillion directions. More than that, I’ve been feeling kind of…used. And not in the dirty sex kind of way.
It’s hard to explain.
It’s like there are three kinds of Internet People: My Pranksters, Not My Pranksters and The Internet Mole People.
Pranksters = You = Awesome.
Not Pranksters = Not You = I don’t know you = could be awesome.
Internet Mole People = Creepy Forum People = trolls who occasionally pop up to say horrible things that are usually misspelled and cruel like, “PEOPL LIK U SHUD NOT HAV KIDZ” or “YOU AER FAT N UGLY N SHUD DIE.” Clearly you cannot take them seriously.
And my Pranksters, you know that I love you all hard. Internet Mole People, you know that I love you (most of you, except the ones I hate) because you remind me that no matter what, I could always be a mouth-breathing knuckled-dragging person who has nothing better to do than anonymously bully people on the internet.
It’s the Non-Pranksters that have been giving me feelings (barf). It’s not one thing, like they all came to my Target store and bought up all the Uncrustables and Diet Coke or something. It’s the pressure of trying to get to all of the projects + the issues that I have going on behind the scenes (what, me have issues?) that = actual feelings.
I got my feelers hurt because some Non-Pranksters were being assholes. That’s what it boils down to. I got my feelers hurt when I was in the middle of doing something I thought was awesome and worthwhile while going through some personal shit of my own and Non-Pranksters were all grabby and shit.
No, of COURSE it wasn’t any of you.
But I’ve been kinda upset about it for awhile. I’ve been working around the clock on Band Back Together and I couldn’t shake my anger, no matter how many videos of laughing babies I watched.
Last night, I was sent a message by a Twitter Prankster telling me another Prankster was being trolled by an Internet Mole Person. I assumed this was probably another case of being called a “fatty-fat-fat stupit hed” or something stupid, which Pranksters, IGNORE THOSE MOLE PEOPLE, or pretend they are calling you beautiful.
I was wrong.
This person was absolutely right. An Internet Mole Person (who could spell) was trolling the mourning mother who had recently lost a child so that this Mole Person could use his death as a means to show the world the evils of circumcision.
I don’t care what you think about cutting the penis, bullying a mourning family and saying, “YOU CAUSED THIS” to prove your own hysterical point is the lowest of the low. I’m beyond horrified to know that while wonderful healing is going on at Band Back Together, this horrible hatred and vitriol is being spewed at a family in mourning. I’m disgusted and appalled.
I woke up even more pissed off at people than I had been. I took to the Twitter and fired off a few tweets at the Mole Person. Then I stormed around the house, furious.
When I came back to the computer to find some dancing cat videos, I saw something. My Pranksters, you’d joined in. All of you were chewing this nasty bitch out and supporting this family who had just suffered an unimaginable tragedy.
And right then, suddenly, the anger I’d been feeling towards all of the people who’d been shitting on me was gone.
I’ve always believed in the inherent good of (most) people and I realized that’s it’s precisely that goodness that’s been missing from most of my interactions with people lately. To see it again, it made my heart smile. People are good. My Pranksters are good. I’m sure the Non-Pranksters are good people, too. They’re just not my people. Maybe they will be some day. Maybe they won’t.
And Internet Mole People can suck it.
Finally, I wrote about autism.