i was born to fight. Generations of Irish struggle with a little German thrown in to top it off. Fighting my way into this world i broke my mum's tailbone on the way out.
i remember the first time i was bullied. i came home from school and told my parents what happened. My da showed me how to make a fist, and my mum taught me the places you could hit anyone - no matter how big - that would stop them in their tracks. From that day on me, nor anyone around me, got bullied without a fight: either physical or mental.
That is the thing about bullies, they want to intimidate but do not look for fights so no matter how i ended up by the end of it, there was never a repeat bullying. If they know you will fight every time they will leave you be, you become too much of a hassle for them.
i realize that i never stopped anyone from being a bully, for i have no control over other people. What i did do, however, was stop those i know from being bullied and that is really the best i can do. Ultimately this even lead me to defending my siblings from the biggest bullies of all: my parents.
There are no shortage of bullies in the world, even as you grow old, so i have never had a retirement party from this black knight's calling. With age, though, this has come to take it's toll. Those who wish to intimidate and take advantage of others are truly a renewable resource. There is an endless supply. My energy is finite, my fists damaged, and my mind is showing it's wear.
i have been trying to be more selective in my stands, and today at work i had to take a stand. The problem is although i am highly skilled at turning it on, turning it off takes some time. Once i have done what i need to i really have to ride off into the sunset and spend time alone until the Hulk turns back into a man. Life rarely gives me this kind of time.
At tonight's game i got a bit worked up while sitting on the sidelines as a sub. A call was made against a player on the other team and they refused to acknowledge it. So i got vocal. A member of our team who happens to be our best player and also, at times, our most annoyingly bossy told me bluntly to calm down. Yelling at an angry person to calm down may be the most counter-productive option possible.
We went back and forth briefly with recommendations for one another on who should mind who's business. Infighting on a team is always a bad scene. It was a ridiculous mini-scene lasting less than a minute caused by three assholes: the other team's cheater, me, and my teammate. A brief occurrence but i am still frustrated by it now as i should be falling asleep.
It is just not worth it. Should people cheat? NO. Should people tell others what to do? NO. Should i let people i do not care about cause me to lose any sleep? NO.
i know the answers to all these question all too well, yet i still struggle. i watch those aging all around me become numb, complacent, and uninvolved. This scares me even more than the fear of looking like an asshole. i would far rather people think ill of me for caring too much than fade into a void of indifference.
If you see me with a machete in my hand do not worry, your limbs are safe. It just means that i am trying to forge a new path. One where i continue to care but where maybe some of the fight gets lost in the brush.
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