A giant, silent FUCK YOU; my pandemic experience

How the pandemic silenced me and what I need to say to move on

DISCLAIMER: This is not going to be a politically correct post (this will be the only disclaimer) so if you don’t like that feel free to leave now before becoming offended.

Man. I have been silent for a long time.

It’s been about two years since I did any writing, and as always when I have a longer period of silence, I start to believe that I have nothing to say.

This is a lie.

But minds are damn good at lying and have sneaky ways of convincing us that what they’re saying is the absolute truth.

The truth is, I stopped writing because I was hurt and scared.

The Covid-19 pandemic scarred us all, and all in different ways; for me the primary scarring was watching liberal society descend into a dehumanising, authoritarian, highly polarised culture. Watching people who I know know better become part of the fear-induced shaming and blaming, supporting deplatforming and dehumanising behaviour, celebrating self-righteousness instead of compassion and generally behaving in decidedly un-liberal ways (but all in the name of liberal values of course).

Forgetting that every single of of us is deserving of love, kindness and most importantly, respect (no exceptions).

To me, it was astounding and horrifying in equal measure. And ultimately it scared the crap out of me.

The level of censorship (that I was aware of) blew my mind. The fact that scientists who voiced concerns about the mRNA vaccines were fired from their jobs and sent death-threats terrified me. What had happened to science? What had happened to civil debate? To the right to critical thinking and questioning those in power (those with, not to put too fine a point on it but it’s got to be said, some deeply vested interests in certain approaches)?

Not to mention the UK government’s sneaky attempt to pass laws that blatantly strip citizens of some of the most fundamental democratic rights during the darkest days of the pandemic (an attempt which failed, but is now making progress – peaceful demonstrators are now being arrested without even being told why).

Something that I never thought would be shaken – my belief that I live in a liberal, democratic society – was shaken to the core.

I also experienced the wrath of the internet masses when I dared to use the term “freedom of speech”, not knowing that it has been co-opted by the far right since the days when I studied the philosophy of state and is now strongly associated with racist neo-nazis. Oops. It was insane and ridiculous but it also hurt. A LOT.

The moment that broke me

It hurt because I care, A LOT. I care and have always cared deeply about the wellbeing of humans and all other beings on this planet, and it felt like (on multiple fronts) my care was being misunderstood and that I was being scapegoated for sad things (along with anyone else who dared to talk about freedom of speech because we were terrified about the levels of censorship, or who didn’t get an mRNA vaccine because shooting experimental biotech into our veins was way scarier than getting Covid-19) that had literally nothing to do with me and my choice (another thing that got relegated to the history books – freedom and confidentiality of medical choice).

Something in me broke after the internet attack.

I was so upset and angry and frustrated on so many levels that my heart imploded into a giant, silent FUCK YOU.

FUCK YOU to all the people who don’t have the education or awareness to question what the authorities tell you.

FUCK YOU to the people who confuse the right to ask questions with hate speech.

FUCK YOU to the people who are so trapped by their own fear of death that they think they have the right to forcefully remove my freedom to live.

FUCK YOU to the friends who turned into small-minded, hateful bigots.

FUCK YOU to the people who yelled that unvaccinated people were “killing people”. Ffs.

FUCK YOU to the fuckwit assholes in power who profited beyond belief at the suffering of the population they lied to. Over and over again.

FUCK YOU to the assholes who mandated injecting experimental biotech into children. History will hold you accountable.

FUCK YOU to the fuckers (same ones) who made old people die alone. Good luck forgiving yourselves.

There are so many more. I am still so angry, shocked and honestly traumatised by what I saw happen. I’m working through it in therapy but there are so many layers. Particularly because those same fuckwits are still in power, still abusing democracy, and most frustrating of all is that so many people still don’t seem to make the connections and realise that they’re getting absolutely fucked by the people they vote into power. Like WTAF. I can’t.

I can’t but also I can’t not.

It’s been bad for me, being silent. As powerless and helpless as I feel, it feels worse to not say anything.

Even if I’m speaking to a void, even if I get more hatred projected at me, even if it seems like a stupid thing to do in a culture of shaming, blaming and cancelling to open your mouth to say ANYTHING, let alone views that aren’t aligned with the mainstream, it feels worse to me not to speak.

Values

Perhaps the thing that freaked me out the most was the way that once the pandemic was officially over (because it is when they say it is, right?) everyone just went “back to normal”. Like nothing ever happened. Like they hadn’t just been spitting at people demonstrating for civil liberties the week before. Calling the police because someone wasn’t wearing a mask in their shop. Participating (to greater and lesser extents) in mass hysteria.

I mean, if that’s how we behave with a virus that kills less than 1% of the population, we’re fucked when something really scary happens.

What happened to our values? The modern West is founded on Christian values (in theory); love thy neighbour as thyself. Well, but not if he has any different viewpoints to you. Compassion – nah, too hard. Peace – pff, way more fun to project all that displaced fear and anger onto culturally accepted scapegoats.

Not that much has changed since the Middle Ages really – we like to think we’re so much more civilised but the scary truth is that fear turns good people into heinous assholes.

Conflict

I’ve learned a lot about conflict over these past two years. I’ve learned that anger is fine, good even, but disrespect is unacceptable. That’s my line; you’re welcome to be angry with me but I will not accept disrespectful behaviour.

I also won’t have a discussion with someone who refuses to take any responsibility whatsoever for their behaviour – I have learned to be open to challenging feedback and I know I can take it, run it through my system, and own whatever feels appropriate. I’ve tried having repair conversations with people who are 100% in blame mode and it fundamentally just doesn’t work; I end up feeling like I’ve taken 100% responsibility (never accurate or just) and they stay stuck in victim mode.

I’ve had to remember (over and over) that I can hate someone’s behaviour but I can’t hate the person without hurting myself.

I’ve realised due to one particular incident why I am so profoundly conflict-avoidant and how much power is tied up in that avoidance. How much more I would say and do if I wasn’t constantly trying to avoid any potential conflict. I am now radically committed to freeing myself from that.

It’s a topic I still have so much to learn about, but one thing I know: we will not, cannot, create a more humane and just society based on fear, judgement and shaming.

Healthy conflict is good, necessary even, in a society with such a wide spectrum of beliefs and values. But it requires mutual respect and a certain amount of goodwill on all parts. I’m not seeing much of that in our current blaming and shaming culture and it worries me deeply, but that’s a topic for another post.

Don’t get me wrong, accountability is important. But accountability does not involve shaming someone. Not even Boris Johnson.

Blaming and shaming is the immature expression of the deep inner knowing that accountability is crucial in any social group. This is something we still have to learn (and overhaul/abolish the current penitentiary system – a prime example of dehumanising behaviour that is considered perfectly acceptable by the vast majority of humanity. More WTF. If that shit doesn’t break your heart into a million pieces you’re a sociopath).

For now, it just feels good to share my experience. To break my silence. To realise that in some way, to some extent, I seem to have moved beyond giving a shit what random people on the internet think of me, or even real life people. If someone is not able to reciprocate my respect, I’m not interested in their opinion of me.

Onwards.