This afternoon I opened up the blog and noticed there were two new comments–one normal, one not so normal. There was a comment by someone with an axe to grind.
They took the opportunity to open up both barrels on me. Of course I foiled this comment from reaching the front page thanks to some great software from WordPress.
But I’m hurt. There was such hatred–such an outpouring of rage–it’s difficult to absorb how someone could feel this way towards me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no saint. I’m no better and no worse than anybody else.
I remind myself that I wasn’t always in recovery. There are people I have harmed–some of whom are still in their addiction–and I’m an easy target. It’s as simple as cause and effect.
Part of me wants to lash out at whoever the hell wrote that comment anonymously and decry the under-handedness, the cowardice, the hypocrisy. Part of me wants to know who it is. Part of me wants to crawl into a ball and feel sorry for being misunderstood. Part of me wants to fight with the unknown bandit.
Part of me wonders what the statute of limitations is on complaints. I think to myself . . . I’m a big boy. I have gotten on with my life. So can they. What is the balance of being compassionate and really being fed up with cheap shots below the belt. I guess you probably gathered that this is not the first time I have received such a comment.
There. I feel better already. Life’s too short to let someone rain on my parade. And this parade’s getting better every day.
