It’s been a roller coaster these last three months, with breaking news coming in cycles but when it comes, hitting hard.

I know we’ve talked about the beat I cover from time to time over hot chocolate and sugar cookies, because small comforts matter and if we’re going to talk about the hard things, I want us to be comfortable.

So grab your mug and favorite blanket (or ball cap or whatever makes you at ease) because I need to share some thoughts with you.

When I don’t know exactly what it is I’m feeling, I end up saying “I’m feeling some kind of way” about things. Right now, I’m definitely feeling “some kinda way.”

For 38 years now, even when I might have had a different full time job, I’ve covered what is called “breaking news,” which includes police, fire, courts — all the emergency fields. And I’ve crossed paths with a number of other reporters who also cover it, some for years like me, others for much shorter times once they realize what is involved.

It’s not the exciting beat so many think. Yes, it does create a lot of bylines, but it also comes with tremendous responsibility. Because when we write about loss — of a home, a building, a car, a pet, or worst of all, a life — it’s someone’s whole world we hold in our hands. It’s up to us to be professional, respectful, honest.

It also comes with a need for a strong constitution (read stomach) because you are going to see and hear some things you will never, ever forget. Things you will never be able to un-see, to shake from your memory.

And it’s also incumbent upon us to be respectful of the professionals on a job doing what they need to do. I stay out of the firefighters’ way, I follow police directions, and I understand when they tell me they just can’t give me the information I’m seeking at the moment.

Sometimes they don’t know. And sometimes, information can change as a story or case develops, and they don’t want to put inaccurate information out in the public. I respect that, because I don’t want that, either. And sometimes, releasing information can jeopardize a case once it gets to court.

On the flip side, however, is you, the reader, and I know there are times when you may know something that I either don’t, or cannot yet say.

So part of this conversation is to ask you for some social media courtesy. Over the years, I’ve been called every name in the book because I’m putting personal information out there, even though the information is decidedly public. I, and many other journalists, get called pariahs because we write stories about the worst moments in some people’s lives, and I accept that. I know it can be hard to understand why we do what we do at times. But then I get on Facebook and read the comments and there are times it takes everything I have not to remove a comment because people go way beyond what we write. They end up sharing details that we wouldn’t print in a million years because it’s too much, too detailed and is going to really hurt someone.

I’m asking you, between us, in our chat here, to be careful about what you say. I know it’s exciting to be the one to share information no one else has. Trust me, that is part of my job, so I do get it. But before you post, please take one minute and stop to think how the comment would make you feel if the story was about you, and you read it. Please be guided first by kindness.

The other thing I do want you to know is if you have been in any of my stories, I still carry you with me. And after all these years, I’ve reached the point where anytime something happens, it brings back other stories from the past.

I do know other journalists who, for self preservation, have distanced themselves from the stories. That’s totally OK, everyone has to do things the way that works for them. But for me, I need to feel connected. I need to approach each story as if this person was my friend, so that I do my best to be aware of their feelings. Will it stop me from writing a news story? No. But it will inform how I write, what words I use, because I well know, words can hurt. I am writing about something emotional, frightening and often graphic. But you don’t need to see or hear all that I absorb. I can tell you the story without wounding you or giving you nightmares, most of the time. However graphic something is, believe me, the full story is worse.

And I salute every day the men and women who go far more into the scenes and the stories than I do. Because I know, no matter how tough you are, the stories stay with you. So right now, I’m feeling some kinda way about the hurts I’ve written about of late. Fires and fatal accidents are always tough, but the murders are extremely hard — because there was a choice. In the end, there was a choice, and someone made a decision and acted on it and I’ve never been able to really understand why.

Violence, sadly, is part of the human existence. And part of my job is to keep you informed about it when it happens.

But we need to all remember, whatever the story, it involves people just like you and me. We can all afford to be kind.

Elisabeth Strillacci covers crime, courts, Spencer, East Spencer and Kannapolis for the Salisbury Post.