I remember a time when mass shootings paralyzed me with sadness. The fact that someone had been so unhappy, so warped that indiscriminate killing seemed the only way out felt almost unbearably tragic.
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And then I remember a point when I got real angry at people trying to "politicize" shootings, but I think I was actually mad at myself because I no longer felt sadness so strongly. I can't mourn all the time, but that's what shooting frequency increasingly demands.
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Now, when shootings happen, the sum total of my emotional reaction is to sigh and say, "was it a white nationalist this time, an incel, a crazy person, or all three?" This isn't healthy, but it's where I'm at in 2019
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