David McElroy

In high school, I hated pep rallies — but I wasn’t sure why.

I just knew I felt uncomfortable when the band was playing and everybody was excited and cheering. I felt oddly out of place. I never told anybody this, but I felt embarrassed of myself. I didn’t clap or cheer or whatever else the crowd around me was doing.

I felt horribly conflicted, although I didn’t understand that at the time. Part of me was excited by the music and cheering and chanting — but I was afraid to let myself go. I was afraid to feel anything. And that made these public displays of emotional frenzy seem very dangerous to me.

I felt coldly numb as I grew up. In middle school, some kids laughingly called me “Spockelroy,” which was someone’s clever mixture of “Spock” and “McElroy.” I was the brilliant rationalist who didn’t feel anything — and who never expressed emotions.

I understand why now.

The loss of my mother had hurt me more than I understood. My fear of my father’s unpredictable narcissistic rage was constant. I had learned that I got into trouble if I expressed my unhappiness.

I learned to remain numb. Not to feel. It was how I survived.

Keep Reading

And here, she’s acting happy
Inside her handsome home
— Harry Chapin, “Taxi”

I don’t know who the email came from. He or she claims I don’t know the sender, so I have no idea what the motivations were. But I’ve been thinking about it for days.

The message was short. It was about a woman who used to love me. Someone who I’ve loved very much — but someone who didn’t choose me when I wanted her to.

After a brief introduction, the writer got to the heart of the matter.

“You don’t know me, but I know all about you,” the message said. “She’s unhappy and depressed, maybe suicidal, though she hides it well. She acts happy and fakes it well most of the time, but I’ve seen through the cracks and she’s about to fall apart. She’s too proud to change anything, but I’m scared about what she might do. I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but I thought you should know.”

And I’m left to wonder why I should know.

Keep Reading

Robert Aaron Long murdered eight people in Atlanta Tuesday. That’s what police tell us.

Why did he do it? Some people say it was a hate crime since most of the victims were Asian. Others say this introverted 21-year old is just crazy. And there are other wildly different explanations.

Those who knew him in high school in Woodstock, Ga., just a few years ago are shocked. They say the boy they knew was caring and kind. He was an active member of the Fellowship of Christian Athletes and he talked about wanting to share God’s love with others.

“From what I can remember he was a really smart kid,” a former student told Fox News. “He was really quiet and kept to himself the majority of the time.”

I’m not inside Long’s mind, so I can’t say exactly why a caring teen became a cold-blooded murderer just a few years later. But I’d like to suggest that you or I could have done something similar. The civilization we see all around us — with our outward calm and polite behavior — is a thin veneer over something far more savage.

At least a touch of hidden insanity is born into each one of us. The interesting question isn’t why Long suddenly murdered eight people — but rather why more people don’t act more like him.

Keep Reading