Skip to main content

Desensitization

I have written a few times about how I have, of necessity, become desensitized to losing friends.  I've lost friends because of prejudice because I'm gay and because of differing religious views.  It still hurts.  In fact, just yesterday I drove near the house of someone I was once very good friends with but haven't heard much from since I came out of the closet.  But, I have become desensitized somewhat to the pain of losing friends.

However, one thing that I don't believe I will ever become desensitized to--and I hope never to be desensitized to--is the pain I feel when I hear that someone has died.  In particular, I am referring to situations where a person has reached that level of despair where suicide seems to be the best available option.

Jack Reese, a resident of Mountain Green, Utah, has just killed himself.  He was the target of bullying at his school.  (Read more here and here.)  Whenever I read a story like this one, I feel a deep sense of pain, regret, and disappointment.  I feel the pain inside the youth--I cannot comprehend the level of despair that must have been present to invoke such an action, but I do understand to a degree.  I feel regret that he was not able to live his life out to its fullest and be allowed to contribute all of the wonderful and glorious things he may well have contributed to society.  And I feel disappointment in society for not providing the loving and tolerant atmosphere that he, and all people, needed.

I never knew this young man.  All I know about him is that he was a handsome young man with a boyfriend.  I assume that they loved each other.  I assume that they were happy together.  I assume that if they had been boy and girl instead of two boys, they may have been a very popular couple.  I assume that he was an average teenage boy--that he was very happy at times, at other times very sad, that he had aspirations for the future and dreams for what he wanted to be when he "grew up".

I wonder how I would feel if I were this boy's father and I knew that I had been one of the factors contributing to him feeling that he was not worthy of life.  Or what if I was his school's principal and I did not take the necessary measures to instruct students that bullying was unacceptable?  How would I feel if I were one of the bullies at his school who called him a name or told him that he was sinful for being in love?  Would I be able to live with the guilt?  Could I really be so cold as to dismiss it as his own guilty conscience eating away at him for continuing in his sin?  What if I was a friend, who told him that I accepted him for who he was but still tried to encourage him to change and become straight?  How would I feel, knowing that my own words might have been one of the things telling him that he was not who he was meant to be?

I know Mountain Green.  I have family there.  I've been there many times for family functions.  I've been sledding and snowmobiling there.  I never knew any of the residents other than my own family members, but I do know the location.  This extra familiarity makes this a more sentimental experience for me personally.  I want it to be sentimental.  I want to feel deep emotion in connection with this story.  It makes me feel human to do so.  I want to be the kind of person who cares about each individual life and does what he can to preserve it.  I do not want to be so desensitized that I become as the bullies who pushed this young man to his death.

Popular posts from this blog

What's a gainer?

If you haven't already done so, I would suggest reading my previous post before reading this one.  It's sort of an introduction and gives the motivation.  Also, by way of disclosure, this post is not sexually explicit but it does touch on the topic of sexuality and how that relates to the subject at hand.

So, what is a gainer?  I'll relate, as best I can, the experiences I have gone through myself to help answer the question.  I remember when I was a young boy--perhaps around 6 or 7--I would have various fantasies.  Not sexual fantasies, just daydreaming about hypothetical situations that I thought were interesting or entertaining.  I had many different fantasies.  Sometimes I would fantasize about becoming very muscular, sometimes about becoming very fat.  
These fantasies varied in degree of magnitude and the subject of the fantasy.  Sometimes I myself would change weight--I would become muscular or fat.  Other times, I would do something to make other people fat or musc…

The scientific method vs the religious method

I find it interesting when people cite the fact that science keeps changing as a reason to disbelieve it and to believe instead in the "eternal" doctrines taught by some church or other.  Let's examine why science keeps changing.  Here's the scientific method.

Develop a hypothesis (this means "have a belief").Design an experiment to test the hypothesis.Conduct the experiment.Determine whether the hypothesis is believable based on the results of the experiment. This is why science keeps changing--because people notice flaws in it and correct them.  People once thought the solar system was geocentric, but now know that it's heliocentric.  How did this happen?  By using the scientific method.  Scientists are willing to admit that they're wrong.  They're willing to give up a bad idea when they see evidence that it makes no sense.  Contrast this with the religious method (simplified version). Have a belief.Look for evidence to support that belief.Ignor…

Gymtimidation

Like many of my posts, this one has been floating around in my mind for a couple months.  I know many people avoid the gym because it is intimidating, so I'd like to share my thoughts about this phenomenon.  First of all, obviously going to the gym isn't the only intimidating thing in life, and many of these thoughts are things that easily translate to any other of these intimidating things.

So I'd like to share some of my personal experiences with gyms.  The first time I recall ever going into a weight room to use it was my first year of college.  I had PE classes all through K-12, but I don't remember ever using the weight room--just group sports, etc.  I recall being intimidated by all the machines.  Some of them I could figure out on my own, but many of them I just stared at and couldn't possibly conceive how it was meant to be used.  Fortunately, I occasionally went with friends and one friend was very familiar with all the equipment so he could help.  So, kn…