The Absurdity of Hugs and Prayers
The danger of feigned emotions
In the worldwide landscape of social media, the observer gets a pretty deep look into the life of an over-sharer. From self-diagnosed psych disorders to physical ailments from which the complaints are endless, I ask myself how do the partners of these people cope? There comes a point in life, an age really, where we all have something that either causes us discomfort or pain.
Adversely the average human is not out there trumpeting their every woe. This is coming from a chronic pain sufferer with multiple diagnosed auto-immune disorders. By choice I do not discuss my medical history like I would discuss what I just ate for breakfast. Maybe it is from being brought up by an Irish Catholic grandmother who lived by the silent motto, “What would the neighbor’s think?” It is just not what people do.
Personal issues are discussed with trusted close friends. That is it. Not every stranger for a global stretch of distance on the internet.
Then these posts are typically met with an endless barrage of hopes and prayers in the comments. It is mind boggling that this is where we have landed with emotional support. Someday, when archeologists look back on this period of history, will they wonder at how heartless and cold humans had become? The level of emotional detachment that has sprung up from daily social media interaction is such a sad reality.
With deep sadness, I believe that this knee-jerk response of feigned support has now bled over into those who are truly in need.
Not too long ago a woman posted for help to escape her abuser. She needed funds or a ride. What were people’s responses? You guessed it: hugs and prayers! It was so insane to see this disabled woman begging for help for her and her service dog.
So, I am sure you are asking, did I do anything more? Yes. I did. I circled the wagons, activating what my friends and I call The Rescue Railroad.
I was able to gather five women, including myself, to get this woman and her dog to safety. Each of us played a different role. I became the coordinator. The others did various things to facilitate the funds, hotel, and transportation.
This is not the first nor last time that I will reach back a hand to someone who is reaching out, even if it is through social media.
Of course I must do my homework to avoid scammers.
Another instance was a couple where the wife had recently become blind. The husband had developed a heart condition. Their utilities were about to be shut off. I saw their plea.
Although they had family members who could have helped them, all they were answered with was, once again, hugs and prayers.
Had I met these people? No. They were not friends or relatives. They were human beings suffering. The husband was in the hospital. The newly blind wife was alone. Frightened.
First thing I did was to assist the woman in getting set up with a case worker for the blind. The railroad was then activated. Total strangers who had never met me, people who only knew me through my artwork, stepped up and donated. The bills were paid. The couple retained electricity and water.
Unfortunately for these two dear sweet people, help came too late. All the stress and horrible living conditions led to the demise of both the husband and wife just months apart.
I am not a rich person. I live below the poverty level. Yet I am able to assist those in need.
A human does not have to have money to help another human. Time can be the greatest gift of all. By taking time to reach that hand back to that drowning person just one person can change someone else’s trajectory.
Be that person.
