Actually, one of my theories about why whumpers like whump is based on the fact that we tend to be extremely empathetic people. We’re the folks who used to form emotional attachments to straw wrappers and cry when it was time to throw them out (true tiny KW story).
If you consider one’s capacity for empathy like a muscle… We have very, very well-honed empathy muscles, but nowhere near enough opportunities in day-to-day life to appropriately exercise them. True, the world around us is going to shit and there are ample opportunities for us to empathize with our fellow humans in a distant and collective sort of way, but we crave direct hands-on exercise. We want to physically smoosh a specific someone to our bosom and caretake the ever-loving shit out of them. And we want someone to want that - no, to need that - kind of love from us.
But not really. We don’t really want to see anyone we care about in pain or going through any kind of hardship, so we turn to fictional sources to satisfy those urges and needs. We can vicariously live through the plights and the caretaking of fictional characters without anyone actually being harmed.
And we want someone to love and care for us in the same intense way. Hence the odd dichotomy of us imagining others suffering all day, then suddenly imagining ourselves as the whumpee at bedtime - the time when we most want to be the recipients of that kind of caretaking, ourselves.
Just some of my whump thoughts.