I'm struggling with an impulse
I'm struggling with an impulse which I've rarely felt before and even more rarely acted upon; the desire for revenge.
For the first time in months I feel compelled to put my thoughts down in this journal. I miss using it, as it really helps me to examine my feelings and to uncover my motives.
The act and pursuit of vengeance has been romanticized to the point where it is considered by some to be almost noble, and I'll admit that I can sometimes find it to be justifiable, and I feel righteous now, while embracing it. There is a part of me, however, that feels it to be an ugly desire, and I feel somewhat reduced for taking intentionally vindictive action against someone, no matter how deserving they may be of retribution.
I have been wronged before; taken advantage of, cheated on on several occasions, slandered by someone so that they might aggrandize themselves; and never have I sought retribution harsher than a determination to live my life better than those who sought to hurt me. I have always tried to content myself with the notion that the worst punishment one of those hurtful wrongdoers could suffer would be to have to live their petty, spiteful little lives.
This time, however, I am moved to take action, and I am actually seeking to get my landlord to fire his douche-bag handyman, the guy who convinced my landlord to seek new tenants. It won't do me any good directly; I will not profit from it, nor will it reverse the situation that I currently find myself in.
I don't know if my desire for vengeance is inflamed because in attacking me, he has also hurt Sara, but I find myself somewhat ashamed of trying to use her involvement in this to make my actions seem more justifiable to myself. I don't feel that I should place any noble facade over this. Likewise, I have told myself that John, my landlord, would be so much better off were he to rid himself of this odious man, but if I was really concerned first and foremost with John's needs, then why have I not acted before now, I wonder?
It makes me think of Wuthering Heights. I feel like Heathcliff; I think I'd almost rather be miserable and remain locked in proximity with the object of my vengeance, so long as that ensured his continued misery, too.
That can't be healthy.
For the first time in months I feel compelled to put my thoughts down in this journal. I miss using it, as it really helps me to examine my feelings and to uncover my motives.
The act and pursuit of vengeance has been romanticized to the point where it is considered by some to be almost noble, and I'll admit that I can sometimes find it to be justifiable, and I feel righteous now, while embracing it. There is a part of me, however, that feels it to be an ugly desire, and I feel somewhat reduced for taking intentionally vindictive action against someone, no matter how deserving they may be of retribution.
I have been wronged before; taken advantage of, cheated on on several occasions, slandered by someone so that they might aggrandize themselves; and never have I sought retribution harsher than a determination to live my life better than those who sought to hurt me. I have always tried to content myself with the notion that the worst punishment one of those hurtful wrongdoers could suffer would be to have to live their petty, spiteful little lives.
This time, however, I am moved to take action, and I am actually seeking to get my landlord to fire his douche-bag handyman, the guy who convinced my landlord to seek new tenants. It won't do me any good directly; I will not profit from it, nor will it reverse the situation that I currently find myself in.
I don't know if my desire for vengeance is inflamed because in attacking me, he has also hurt Sara, but I find myself somewhat ashamed of trying to use her involvement in this to make my actions seem more justifiable to myself. I don't feel that I should place any noble facade over this. Likewise, I have told myself that John, my landlord, would be so much better off were he to rid himself of this odious man, but if I was really concerned first and foremost with John's needs, then why have I not acted before now, I wonder?
It makes me think of Wuthering Heights. I feel like Heathcliff; I think I'd almost rather be miserable and remain locked in proximity with the object of my vengeance, so long as that ensured his continued misery, too.
That can't be healthy.