Distractions and Breathers

When the world becomes too much to bear

Content Warnings: This refers to conflict and graphic imagery seen on social media. Nothing is described in detail and no images are shared; I don't want my readers to have the same experience I did. But there are references to common images and videos which have been shared widely over the past handful of months. Please proceed with caution.

In my March goals post, I said I wanted to finish scheduling blog posts and finish beta-reading an MG fantasy novel by a very talented fellow author, before pushing through, full-steam ahead, with the Ramadan 1445 issue.

I'll be honest: this month has been brutal, and we're only just beginning. 

Terrible things are happening, and with social media, everyone is a witness to them. Everyone is a witness to the carnage, the slaughter, the loss of humanity, and the suffering of others. The photos make their way onto our feeds, they're not blurred or censored, and most of the time we aren't prepared to see what comes up. 

For me, this all culminated yesterday, and I saw something I never thought I would ever have to witness in my life.

I was scrolling through my IG, clicking on accounts here and there to check out other people's profiles - as you do. I'm particularly interested in finding more Muslim fiction authors to add to my community, and many such authors are very vocal on social media, especially regarding the terrible conflict in Palestine. They share lots of images and posts to keep awareness up. Some of these can be pretty graphic and disturbing. But this one - this one in particular - was the worst I have ever come across.

I clicked on a profile. 

I scrolled down the images - just a little.

I didn't have to go far.

I saw it.

And I didn't understand what I was seeing.

There was a lot of red. The shapes were... strange.

My brain couldn't comprehend what it was.

And when I finally recognized it--them--

My heart sank. My anxiety spiked. 

I closed the app as quickly as I could. 

I sprang up, paced back and forth, walking around aimlessly.

For the rest of the day, my mind was a mess. I was moody, I was tired, I was frightened, and I was frustrated. I considered deleting the app, but felt guilty even thinking about it.

There's a lot of that going around these days. Guilt. 

But I had to come to terms with the truth: I couldn't keep seeing images like that. I know that this suffering deserves to be seen, and that we are all witnesses of the injustices taking place, but I also know that I can't keep seeing images like that. The emotional impact, the shock, the restlessness, the lingering afterimage in my mind, the constant nausea rippling just under the surface - how could I be expected to go about my work and my life after seeing something like that? How could I be expected to function normally after seeing something so terrible? 

I couldn't continue my work. And I couldn't read, and I couldn't write, and I couldn't research. I couldn't do much of anything. I spent a long while like that - the whole rest of the day and well into the night - not quite sure what I was supposed to do. Not quite knowing how to react. Just knowing that I had witnessed something awful, something I was never meant to see. 

I tried, of course. I tried to write an article for the Ramadan 1445 issue. I tried to do some research. I tried to write a blog post. I tried to do something. But it all kept falling clumsily out of my mind, slipping through my fingers.

My mood dropped so low that I ended up putting everything away and trying to do a mental reset. I decided that the best way to do that was to do something completely different from everything else I had been doing - something that would move me away from everything that I had been so focused on so far. Something low-stakes but mentally engaging. In other words: something distracting to help me move on. 

I ended up making some art and working on a game design document for a new game which I dove into and designed on the spot. It was about 4 in the morning when I finally went to sleep, but the distraction had worked, and I woke up feeling somewhat better. 

And I told myself to stay within the limits of my social media circle - to not venture out into the Explore pages or scroll down my feed, lest I see more images that would weigh on my heart, mind, and soul, when the world around me continued and I was expected to, too. 

Still, it doesn't go away. Even today, the afterimage visited my mind countless times.

Even now, as I write this, the nausea creeps close, and my chest tightens at the memory.

It doesn't go away. All the breathers and distractions in the world won't make it go away. You cannot unsee what you've seen. 

So, it's a little hard, to say the least, these days. To write, to read, to make plans and take steps to push my career forward. But despite the permanence of the things we've seen, and despite the fact that distractions and breathers won't erase them or their impacts, I find myself pushing myself forward regardless, in hopes of...

Something. A better world? A better future?

I don't know, really. Just something.