You have no idea what I am capable of.
This used to be something that meant If you fuck with me I will split your skull with a bat. It was almost a rhetorical musing to myself as I shook my head about how far some people will push you. It almost gave me pleasure to think about just thumping people, not worrying about guilt, or being a good person, or the consequences (especially prison which is not one of my goals – I don’t really think I can make the bright-orange-jumpsuit-look work for me.)
I remember scenarios where I would say, “Don’t worry, I’m not going to sue you. A reasonable person would sue you. I am not a reasonable person. I will hurt your children.” It rattles people. Some times I would say something random to someone who I believe had egregiously wronged someone I love. Casually I might ponder aloud, “You know it’s a funny thing. People with children can feel a pain none the rest of us can feel. No matter what happens to us, no matter what anyone does to us, it pales in comparison to the hurt or even loss of a child.” That’s some crazy shit.
Ok, so maybe I never actually said it to anyone, but I thought it. And I would tell friends about times I would like to say it to people. I guess I liked the idea, the fantasy, of not taking it up the ass all the time (Sorry, D, it’s not an endearment to everyone.) Liked feeling big and bad if only in my own mind.
Which brings me to my new revelation – I have no idea what I am capable of. This would mean in terms of forgiveness. I look at the recent injustice of Cathy being let go and I keep reminding myself, maybe even convince myself, that I don’t wish bad on anyone. This is a constant battle. When I picture how successful Cathy will be, when I picture her clients that appreciated her dedication and hard work and how they are leaving her former company, some of whom to go with her, I do feel a smug pleasure. I tell myself it’s a matter of justice or karma. That I just enjoy the sense of fairness but I’m not sure that’s it. I wonder if my peace with this (as opposed to my usual worry and panic, I am half Irish, after all) is because we weren’t really affected because we had enough savings to carry us through. Or because there are lessons we can take away from this, blessings even.
I pictured when I would run into Tim, Cathy’s former boss, or Julie, that Judas, that I would smile politely and say hello and treat them with the polite indifference one does a mere acquaintance. This may be a game, too. If you show anger or upsetment or too much indifference they know they’ve gotten to you. You must portray one that is unaffected and spiritually-centered. I pray for them. I really do.
So I wonder if at 45 years old I have discovered true forgiveness or if I am playing a game. Do I hate confrontation and bad feelings between people and the energy it requires to despise someone totally that I just pretend I have achieved forgiveness?