I was on the train when I first learned about Paris. Sitting in a tube of steel that was preparing to go underground, I scanned the news feeds that described the horror occurring in the city. Sitting quietly, I felt my body grow numb as my brain shut down. So much tragedy. All of it nonsensical.
Sunday night, I felt the same anxiety rise during a conversation with my mom. The second she asked "what can I do for you?" I knew she was baiting me for a fight. Grey watched me in horror as I attempted to subdue any confrontation, listening instead as my mom went on about my paternal grandmother and how she was navigating that situation. All the while baiting me with comments about how all of this was new to her and that she wanted to know why I was now attempting to reestablish contact. What it comes down to is she's upset I did reach out to her as soon as I learned I was pregnant. But attempting any explanation will only lead to a fight, which she's unconsciously pushing for. And so I unsuccessfully try to calm her down before declaring I can't do any more for the night. Feeling numb and beaten afterwards.
One thing that continues to baffle is how insistent those who foster hate and anger are of their position. There's a certain pride they take in causing destruction and pain, as if it somehow justifies their own feelings. What they fail to ask is why there is this need to fight. What motivation is there to be won by taking?
My nerves are raw from all of this. The danger seems so needless and the hate so stupidly unproductive. And I wish there were clear answers towards peace with all of this.