CW: a really sad story about a dog
This is an expanded twitter thread I wrote. You can read the original thread here.
The internet gets hated on more than any other tool, and yet there are so many positives to it. If you can’t see them, maybe you need a break from the doomscrolling, because there’s good on here too. I see things all the time like “it is hastening the downfall of our humanity,” but the thing about a tool is that what it does really depends on how you use it, and why. Like I can use a screwdriver to chip holes in the wall of my house and with enough time and energy and dedication I might make enough holes that my house falls down. Or I could screw things together and build shit.
Anonymity on the internet leads to a lot of bullying and awful shit, but it also allows people to come forward safely who couldn’t without that anonymity. It allows for government leaks, for LGBTQIA+ people in unsafe and unsupported areas to find community and support. We really shouldn’t need this, but since we do, the internet allows for gofundme’s to reach large enough audiences that medical treatments can then be afforded. It saves lives. It allows for easy and often free sharing of information, which benefits both academics and activists. Plus there’s online gaming and porn, so that’s pretty cool.
If all you’re seeing is the bad, this genuinely isn’t good for you, and you should take a moment to try and see the good. Like any tool, the internet can be wonderful. Or awful. It depends how its used. And if someone else is knocking holes in the wall with a screwdriver, you should move to a safer location before their house falls down.
We control what we post online, and the content we see. Be the joy you want to see in the world, post things that make you happy, follow people that make you happy, and maybe curate a Twitter Doomscrolling list so you can visit when you need to but you don’t live there.
Ultimately, the “it is hastening the downfall of our humanity” take is one of utter privilege, and yet I often see people who lack privilege sharing this idea. Looking at trans folk, I see them post it online sometimes, often because of transphobia, but I also see them sharing advice on medication (because the doctors often don’t have a clue), coming out, dealing with transphobic family members and more. They offer support and community, guidance, even sometimes money. I’ve seen people helped to pay their bills, employers contacted about transphobic employees, and people have found love. And they offer something that really doesn’t get applauded enough: their existence.
When I was young, I was at school during Section 28. I didn’t know this, because not promoting homosexuality seems to have extended to not mentioning the law that meant they couldn’t promote homosexuality. Trans people were lumped in under this law, too.
Enacted on 24 May 1988, the amendment stated that a local authority “shall not intentionally promote homosexuality or publish material with the intention of promoting homosexuality” or “promote the teaching in any maintained school of the acceptability of homosexuality as a pretended family relationship”.
Wikipedia
This act lasted until 2000 in Scotland. I was born in 82, so I probably started school in 86, and I don’t remember learning about gay people in between colouring outside the lines and learning to spell my name in primary one and two. I left school in 1999.
I’m a writer, yet I don’t really have words to express the way that, for most of my life, I felt wrong. Not different, because I assumed everyone felt this way, but empty and pointless. I wasn’t suicidal, but I didn’t feel like it would have mattered had I died. In a lot of ways, life was just very bland. Not exactly terrible, but not good either. Mostly just a long period of nothingness interspersed with some really bad shit.
Basically I’ve spent most of my life dissociating and, at the same time, searching.
Dissociation, as a concept that has been developed over time, is any of a wide array of experiences, ranging from a mild emotional detachment from the immediate surroundings, to a more severe disconnection from physical and emotional experiences.
Wikipedia
I don’t have any memories from before my first day at high school when I was 13, and I don’t have many memories after that. I still struggle with recent memories, and I struggle with emotions. I feel them, now, but I often don’t know what they are. I remember saying once “I feel happy and scared” and getting the reply “that’s excitement.” Before then, excitement had only been a word I’d read or heard, I couldn’t have explained how it felt. I wasn’t young when I learned this.
There are still emotions I don’t understand or feel now, and one I’ve just chosen to go without (guilt is an absolutely pointless emotion, it just makes you feel bad for things you can’t change: apologise, and do better next time, and don’t waste your energy dwelling on shit that’s happened).
So, yeah, I was disassociating heavily from a very young age, and I don’t remember things, and I never really felt things, and when I eventually started to feel emotions, I had no real idea what I was feeling. Even now, I’ll easily become overwhelmed, and I’m prone to leaking happy tears when reading or watching movies. Especially Disney, that shit makes me cry every time.
And I was searching, for a meaning or a purpose or a connection.
I had a dog when I was a young teen. Her name was Tara, she was a collie-lab cross, and she was all gangly limbs and hyperactive excitement. She’d greet me at the door after school every day, and she’d follow any command I gave her, but she completely ignored everyone else. She loved to jump, she was terrified of cats, and when I lay on the floor to read or watch TV she’d lie between my legs with her head on my butt. She loved me, and I loved her in a way I’d never been able to love anyone, a way I didn’t know I could love. I’d never really managed to form emotional attachments to anyone, not even my family. I have no friendships that lasted from childhood. I was detached from the world, emotionally dead, until I got a dog who taught me to love and be loved.
My mum gave her away.
I came home from school, and she didn’t meet me at the door. I checked the garden and the bedrooms because my mum had a habit of locking her up when I wasn’t in to stop her. She wasn’t there. I went to my dad and asked where she was. I still remember his exact words, which shows the impact when I can’t remember much else about entire years of my life at that point.
“I’m really glad you asked, because your mum said you wouldn’t notice.”
They gave my young, boundlessly energetic, cat-phobic dog away to an old woman with a cat. I told them she’d hate it, she couldn’t live with a cat, and would the old woman have the energy for such a playful and bouncy pup (I’d had her since she was a baby, and she was maybe about 2 by this time). They said it would be fine.
It wasn’t, and two weeks later we got her back. I was over the moon. Tara was over the moon. I’d clearly been distraught for the past two weeks, and I was now very clearly the happiest I’d been in my entire life. My parents remarked on the difference. They saw it, they knew how deeply affected I was.
A few weeks after that, my mum gave Tara away. Again. They did it whilst I was at school. Again. She thought I wouldn’t notice. Again.
I was told she went to a farm in Perth, where she’d have plenty of space to run around and use all her energy, and there were no cats. I believed them; why wouldn’t I? They were my parents. I might have been incapable of connecting to them on a deep and meaningful emotional level, but they are still my parents.
I mentioned to them a few years ago about Tara going to the farm, and my dad asked me if I still believed that. They gave her to a pound, the kind that puts down dogs that don’t find homes. I like to think she found a happy home and was loved, but the reality is that my incredible, beautiful, funny baby girl probably spent the last few months of her life alone and abandoned by me and not understanding why until someone killed her. And my parents lied to me about this for decades.
When I was in my late teens, I met someone. A girl. I was emotionally stunted and desperate for a connection and she liked me. We moved in together, got married, had kids. For most of our relationship, she was physically, mentally, and emotionally abusive, and I was desperate to be needed and loved and feel like my life actually had a point. Then she ended the relationship, and I was really lost for a while.
Eventually, I came to realise I’m trans, and the cracks in my egg that let me be me, that let me express who I am to the world, led to cracks in other walls constructed so long ago I didn’t know they were there. I started to feel emotions more: sadness, happiness. Fear. Anxiety. So much fucking anxiety. I ended up with depression so bad I was on medication, and then I came out of it and took myself off the meds. And now I cry happy tears at Disney movies and enjoy singing really badly and have a kind of peace with myself that doesn’t leave me so desperate for a connection that I’ll stay in an abusive relationship because I think that it’s love.
And it was the internet that taught me about trans people, that showed to me we’re more than the Ace Ventura caricature’s I’d been exposed to in the media. I should have learned this when I was young, but the government was against me, the media was against me, and in the small backwater town I grew up in, there were no out trans people.
So you can say the internet “is hastening the downfall of our humanity,” but it has given me so much, allowed me to find who I am, to live the life I’ve merely been existing in before now. It’s brought me peace and a deeper understanding of who I am. It brought me to life.
Maybe you’re privileged enough that you’ve never needed the good of the internet, or maybe you used the internet for good in the past, but in all the doomscrolling you’ve forgotten that side of it. Here are the best things on the internet; if my blog post didn’t do prove anything to you, then looking through this might help you have some fun online.