At times in my life I’ve been obnoxious, insensitive, even cruel. I’ve hurt feelings, sometimes badly. I suppose I can take solace in the fact that I’ve never physically harmed anyone and am reasonably certain I’ve caused no one any long-term damage. But still…..
Demon rum has contributed to some of the vitriol I’ve spit out. But in the nearly thirty-five years since I got sober, there’s been plenty of bile that I’ve spewed on people.
Through all the introspection I’ve done, I’ve concluded that I’m not a bad person and have done far more good than bad. My children, my nieces and nephews and their children, my wife and cousins and my late aunts, uncles, parents and grandparents all have or do hold me in high regard. Of the middle school students I taught I’d estimate that ninety per cent have fond memories of me and indeed many were inspired by the force of my personality and teaching. As an ESL teacher I believe myself to be even more popular. Most colleagues have liked me and enjoyed working with me although a few were stung by the kind of nasty remark I’m prone to making. I’ve had many friends and acquaintances and with most I’ve always maintained good relationships but that there are glaring exceptions hurts me to no end.
All of this came to mind when I read a blog post I wrote five years ago. In it I mentioned a memorial service I’d recently attended. I took the time to mention that I saw an acquaintance, there (one I’d always been fond of) for the first time in ten years. He was quite rude to me for no good reason that I can imagine. But I used my blog post to eviscerate him — by name. It was totally unnecessary on my part. (I'll spare you what I wrote.)
When I read the offending words on Friday I was shocked by my cruelty I didn't remember writing it and wondered at the person who did (me). I immediately removed the offending passage in what I suppose is a case of better late than never. The idea that I’d written that sent me into a depression that I’m only now emerging from.
My sincerest though terrible belated apologies to Darryl Brock for my vicious and uncalled for words. He's a fine man and an excellent author.
If he chanced upon my words I doubt that he’ll ever forgive me. If he does, he’s a better man than I am.
My apology is without equivocation or excuse. There have been reasons over the years for my acid tongue or pen. I suffer PTSD as an abuse survivor, I myself abused alcohol. I’m on the bi- polar spectrum. None of this excuses anything I’ve ever said or written. I own it all.
I will continue to try to be better and endeavor to be more careful with my words. That’s all I can do.
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