I am genuinely afraid of being murdered. Which is pretty dumb since most women are murdered by their intimate partners and I don’t have one of those. Because I am afraid of being murdered I don’t read mysteries, I don’t watch crime shows and I don’t listen to murder podcasts. Why, you might ask?
In college I scared the bejesus out of myself when I took an abnormal psychology class and all we did was read case files about men who murdered women. Why didn’t we read case files about women who murdered men? I don’t know. Maybe women don’t get caught? Maybe women don’t murder as many men as men murder women?
The fact remains I learned all I wanted to learn about murderers when I was 18. I imagine nothing much about the profile has changed.
So I have not been one of the millions of people listening to murder podcasts. That does not mean these podcasts don’t have value. I think some of them have enormous value. My Favorite Murder has given us some of the best life advice of the 21st century.
“Get a job. Buy your own shit. Stay out of the forest.”
“Pepper spray first and apologize later.”
“Lock your fucking door.”
But aside from the good advice, which I looked up online because Older Son told me to, I can’t listen to the mayhem. I wonder if I am letting the victims down by not listening to their stories. Because what these podcasts do so well is shine a light into the darkest corners of human behavior.
But the fact is I just can’t handle it. I can’t divorce myself from what happened. I still have a nightmare now and again from a specific case file I read nearly three decades ago. I’m going to have to sit this one out and instead be thankful to the people who can tell the stories of our fellow humans who have been silenced.