While writing my post about Suffering Magnets, I came to the realization that I may be a One-Upper.
You know, those people who tell you something of equal or greater horror when you tell them something bad that happened to you?
I don't mean to be a One-Upper, it is just that people tell me something has happened to them and then, in an effort to relate, I tell a story about something similar that has happened to me, which usually tends to be a bit more terrible because, as we have established, things are always bafflingly fucked up in my life. So I hear the words just flowing out of my head and I think, 'SHUT UP, JUST SHUT UP. They think you are playing the Grief Olympics.. they think you are an asshole, just shut the hell up'... but OMG it just feels so good to share grief, to remove it from your stupid jerk head and let it out into the world like a little grief dragon, to let it stretch and spread its wings after keeping it cooped up in your belfry of a brain ALL THE TIME.
I'd like to quietly listen and say, "Oh jeepers! That is just so awful, you poor person, what can I do?" but it is rarely what ends up happening. Even though I try... really really hard.
But in no way am I trying to be a Grief Shamer.
Grief Shamers are the type of people who won't let you have a second of complaining without reminding you that no matter what you are are upset about, other people have it 7 billion times worse so you should just STFU and be glad your grandpa was eaten by a tiger because your ENTIRE FAMILY could have been eaten by A STREAK OF TIGERS EQUIPPED WITH LASERS!
I don't even believe in shaming "First World Problems." I think sharing suffering make it suck less and there is no shame in that. So, if people wanna complain to me about Bravo's Twitter team spoiling the winner of Top Chef for every time zone other than Eastern, like a bunch of assholes, or finding that their bag of chips is lacking in delicious powdered flavor, I have no problem with that. I just have a problem if you don't want to hear about the time my Chili Cheese Fritos were kinda flavorless, too, and were full of bees that stung my throat and I had to go to the emergency room, but I couldn't get in because it was full of wolves... with lasers.