I have nothing but questions. How the hell does this keep happening? Do young people today lack coping mechanisms? If so, what are we not teaching them? If not, what are the multitude of factors that make it so easy for a one kid having a bad day, or a bad week, or a bad year, or a bad life to kill his classmates? This kid does not fit the stereotypical profile; loner, disliked, didn’t fit in, yadi, yadi, yah. He was just the opposite of the stereotypical ‘kid shooter’ profile. This kid was popular.
We need to find the combined factors that we’re exposing our youth to, or not teaching them, that is driving these mass shootings/killings. We now have a generation of people that grew up with a new ideology of raising kids: going to ‘time out’ rather than swats; ‘everyone is a winner’; and ‘everybody can do anything they want to do’. That generation is now raising kids. That probably is not what caused these shootings, but it may be a small percentage of the combined factors.
Life is fucking hard on some days. Some of those hard days turn into a hard week or a hard year or several years. That is life. You can’t find all the solutions from a psychologist/counselor. You can’t take a pill to fix the bad days. Not everyone will like you. People are assholes. They gossip, they backstab, they act friendly to your face yet will hide the joy they feel when you have a failure or hurt, but that is just the way it is when dealing with humans.
You will have relationships where you are treated like dirt. Walk away. I don’t care what your parents told you. You are not special. No, you are not special. None of us are special. You will have bad days, bad weeks, and bad years. You will get your heart broken and your soul beaten. You will not ever get a ‘time out’ or a “you are special” corner from life. You are not special. Your pain is not special. It is not worse than the kid next door, or the kid on the other side of the country. I do not give a rat’s ass what your parents think and told you. You are not special. What you are is loved. Someone somewhere loves you. Two people conceived you. Someone gave birth to you. Someone you have never met cares about you and has compassion for your wellbeing. Someone loves you even on your worst days.
If you want to be a warrior put down the knife, put down the gun, and do not kill your friends and classmates because you are in pain. What you do is pick your punk ass up from its pity pile and continue down your life’s path. Resilience and grit is what defines a warrior, not guns. Tend your wounds. They will heal. Scratch your scars when they itch because the only guarantee you get in this life is there will be bad days, bad weeks, and bad years.