I had a complete stranger deliberately seek me out and be rude to me today. It appears to be some sort of game, a rudeness contest perhaps, played between two people. I know I didn't deserve the remark, as I was not even looking at them, and one literally poked me in the side to get my attention. Very weird.
I was surprised at my reaction. Yes, the remark hurt, and I am more than a little dismayed. But my biggest reaction is that I genuinely pity them.
I have dealt with more than my share of abusive people in the last year. But the hurt from abusive people has lessened, and is largely replaced by pity. I think of how empty their soul must feel for them to have to go out and purposely hurt someone.
I deal with a lot of messed up people, but the deliberately hurtful types have a mindset that I cannot understand.
I know a few hurtful types and two of them have told me why they hurt; it is because they do not like themselves.
I can not imagine having such an emptiness in my soul that I have to deliberately seek out someone to hurt. Can you imagine the internal pain they must feel? No wonder I pity them.
I cannot imagine being such a bad person that I cannot stand being alone, cannot stand the silence that allows one to hear one's soul. Not being able to be just oneself. And, of course, hurting people doesn't win one any friends, makes enemies, and feeds what that person already knows about themselves. I genuinely pity them.
This is a change in my view of bad people that I developed several months ago. I have dealt with my share of abusers. Do they still hurt? Yes. But the hurt they cause me now is minimal because I find that I greatly pity them. I have been in pain before, I have hated myself before, but I have never, ever wanted to purposely hurt an innocent party. It is a mindset that I cannot fathom. To be that low on the scale of human decency, or to be in that much internal pain, deserves only pity.
One of the two pitiful creatures who opened up to me is currently homeless. Literally got kicked out of his home, because his behaviour has reached the point of being dangerous. He asked if he could live with me. I said no. I am used to dangerous people, and if I lived alone I would take him in and help him. But I have my son to think about, and I cannot introduce that kind of instability into my home.
Besides, being homeless will be good for this individual. I told him that perhaps being homeless is what he needs to make him realize the need to change and that violent behaviour cannot be tolerated. I asked him to think about what he wants and what he is willing to do to get it and keep it.
To be honest, I am tired of patching up weirdos, or trying to keep them alive. It is nice to live my days not wondering if I am going to be killed in my sleep, physically attacked, etc. Or to not have to talk someone out of suicide, or hurting themselves. Or wrestling a weapon out of their hands so that they don't hurt themselves or someone else.
Thanks for letting me rant. I like my rather dull life now. It is peaceful and safe. And weirdo-free. Well, almost weirdo-free.
Richard