I’m Sick and Tired of Reading Transcripts of Sexual Abuse and Deviant Behavior
I’m not trying to be a bitch, but every time my timeline lights up with more debris from the avalanche of testimonies from victims bravely sharing their harrowing tales of abuse — I literally knock my head back in frustration.
Too much of anything is damaging and in this case there is no doubt that we are sinking in a mudslide of over-sharing and open access that can be nauseatingly unappetizing — particularly for those of us — that have spent a good portion of our lives — trying to manage the consequences of our past.
When did we stop caring about each other in the human sense?
How did we get to the place where disturbing content becomes the funnel for countless clicks and the level of traffic that give outlets the sickening incentive to continuously sprout out trigger-worthy fare at a cowardly rapid pace.
Are we really united in our grief of how rampant sexual harassment is or are we part of the festival of awareness that is seemingly doing more harm than good?
If we are truly and deeply committed to the movement of supporting victims and banishing the monsters that gobbled them up and spat them out — then how can we host such a bewilderingly hostile environment that preys on innocents as if it’s the instinct that pays.
The art of bonding through the commonality of trauma isn’t supposed to suffocate or grow into weeds of intolerability each time we attempt to remain social — in the midst of heavy content that shouldn’t be suitable for nonstop gawking.
Each hour produces an extension to the quilt of tragic circumstances that is passed around for fondling by those who can relate and others who are horrified at how huge it’s getting. It’s an uncontrollable mess of varying degrees of trauma that infiltrates the tubes of connectivity that are currently soiled with the rampant onslaught of headlines and images that are honestly doing more harm than good.
When the hell does this hell end?
When do we agree that this harrowing climate has to be tactically delivered with mature proficiency for the sake of sanity and the purity of recognizing when lines have been crossed.
We have to claim back the right to be civilly cautious of our method of fighting against the beast that always ends up devouring all of us — no matter what side we choose. The stench of these days that begin and end with the premise of exposing disturbing content to validate the horrors of deviant behavior has become too toxic to respect or appreciate.
As a survivor — I reserve the right to seek the professional assistance I’ve been avoiding for way too long — before offering my version of events that I can’t help comparing to the ones on the current slate of acceptance. This habit is disgusting, but unavoidable as scrolling from piece to piece evokes a wretched curiosity that would’ve been unheard of decades ago.
Yes, it’s imperative to assuage the fears of those who’ve grieved for this moment of freedom — that permits graphic details and enough grossness to warrant the level of attention that keeps it all affixed — for weighty algorithms and the burgeoning appetites that amazingly never experience hints of choking.
I’m not sure how you’re able to digest all the stuff with ease — but I can attest to the fact that I’m getting sick and tired of reading the never-ending transcripts of sexual abuse and deviant behavior that paralyzes my senses — and forces me to tread carefully through the infected terrain of social media platforms.
We are lucky to be embodying an era that gives us the power of ultimate expression with no limits. Celebrities film their breakdowns, users share their #bestlife and stalled careers are revived by the mere click of a link.
But, when it comes to the overkill of topics that demand streamlined discretion at the behest of people like me — who aren’t capable of absorbing the labyrinth of upsetting language — coiled into posts that are sizable for an elongated shelf-life — there’s nothing worse than an unhealthy invasion.
Antibodies aside — we need to find a way to end the immunity. It’s finally time to be incurably sick.