Survivor guilt is a disorder whereby the survivor of a traumatic event feels as if they have done some kind of wrong by getting through it when others didn't. Symptoms include sleep disturbance, nightmares, social withdrawal, depression, anxiety. It's a strange one, how the mind reacts to being left behind. I've been thinking a lot about survivor guilt recently, more specifically, stay-er guilt: the strange mixture of remorse, guilt, and feelings of inadequacy that possess the non-emigrant. Sometimes I feel like a loser for staying put.

The guilt of staying emerges for many reasons. Everyone promises themselves they'll travel the world, but few do. There's the fear that those who stay will be seen as the 'passive massive' – a phrase I saw on Twitter last week – rather than the active departees. A picture is being painted that those leaving the country are being forced out through unemployment, or that they just have more get-up-and-go than us eejits standing on Dun Laoghaire pier waving hankies as the more proactive amongst us crash through the waves towards streets paved with gold. And there's the perception that those left behind are either anchored here for a variety of financially crippling reasons, or that we possess a fear of worldliness.

The reality is there is no typical emigrant, nor a typical person who stays. Everyone has their reasons for going or staying. Some people go because of unemployment, or no prospect of employment; maybe there are more opportunities in their professional field elsewhere; perhaps they are sick of negative Ireland; maybe they want some life experience, to travel and see other parts of the world; maybe their partner has left and they wish to join them. And there is an equally eclectic list of reasons for staying too: family commitments; relationships; liking life in Ireland; scared of losing friends or a job; maybe you have a job you like; maybe you are in negative equity and can't run away from repayments.

The stay-er guilt isn't helped by the change in attitude that can possess recent emigrants. Some leave Ireland and still love the place, are happy to come home, see their old friends, express an interest in new developments while visiting their old haunts. Others just plain don't like Ireland. Ireland wasn't good to them and they find it difficult to suppress their disdain when they return. Everything is so much better/cooler/shinier/more progressive/
more interesting/more culturally aware/cheaper/more eclectic/cleaner where they live now (generally a much bigger city than Dublin, so obviously there's more happening in a city of five or six million than in a city of one million). Obviously this makes those who stayed here feel like crap. Your buddy who you once hung out with now looks down his or her nose at your quaint Irish lifestyle.

You might as well throw on a Peig shawl and start slopping out the pigs to fulfil the behind-the-times Irish cliché. Giving out about a city in Ireland not being like London or New York, Berlin or Sydney is like throwing a fit in Bailieborough about there being no Starbucks. It's just unrealistic. Cities aren't comparable to each other. They are not made up of the same easily exchanged ingredients. Yes, some places are more sophisticated and diverse than others, but are the billions of people who don't live in New York or London or wherever somehow 'wrong'? It's funny, because generally I find those Irish who do emigrate and rejoice in how fabulous their new life is and how unattainable it would be in the Old Country, tend to actually hang out with... Irish people.

Dublin is meant to be a good city for young people, but there are lots of disadvantages for that demographic right now: our licensing laws stifle night life, rents are high, as is the cost of living, red tape and bureaucracy tangle creative entrepreneurial ventures. But, simultaneously, there is a light. New music venues and clubs are emerging. Creative collectives are expanding. People seem more willing to lend each other a hand.

Politics doesn't play any part in it. We are not apathetic, but we are disaffected. Everyone I talk to has a thousand opinions on the political and economic situation. That's not apathy. But changing things at a top level seems so unrealistic and detached from our lives that we go back to the ground, and try to change things from there.

I don't blame people for leaving at all. The thought crosses my mind at least a few times a day. But do you know what else I think of? Imagine if no one left. Imagine if everyone stayed and tried to change things.

Hold me...

I went to see The Social Network last week – a great, pacey and entertaining story of how a bunch of introverted nerds made billions from Facebook. Coincidentally, last week I finally deleted my Facebook account. People always seem shocked I'm not on Facebook, although I'm not quite sure what's shocking about not wanting to be part of the world's largest social space owned by a private company that harvests your personal details to make money.

Thrill me...

It's the great macaroon war of 2010 (in my mind). I've been going on a bit of a macaroon binge over the past while. Currently vying for my love are the Ladurée ones in Brown Thomas and Cocoa Atelier's stock on Drury Street in Dublin. I'll stop now before I end up sounding like the 'what's hot' list in the Irish Times, but feel free to send me your favourite macaroons. Crates of them, if possible.

Kiss me...

Upon seeing an ad for a Hot Press diploma in music journalism costing €900, I decided to set up my own free music journalism course with a collective of Irish music journalists. Our 50 places filled up within half an hour of announcing it last week, but you can add yourself to the waiting list at http://irishmusicjournalism. wordpress.com.

Kill me

So, Perez Hilton, the world's most notorious gossip blogger who ascended to fame through a reign of bitchiness, bullying, misogyny and childishness, has decided that he is going to be nice, quit calling celebrities names or making fun of their children. Perez may be smart enough to realise that his image needs an overhaul but having interviewed him a couple of years ago myself I can safely say that intelligence is very low on his list of attributes.

umullally@tribune.ie