Saturday, October 09, 2010


I'm not generally a person who delights in the misfortune of others. I am a nice person, who cares for people. Worries what will happen to people after misfortune. Presently I am not able to directly care for people because my health is, to be honest, appalling at present, but this does not stop me caring. When I am better I will be hands on, working for the good of others in a very real and physical sense. Caring for those who are ill, or unable and enjoying that caring. I used to do it and I will do it again.

The reason I am not able to do it now, the cause of what was effectively, a complete nervous breakdown, from which I will recover, I have no doubt, is a family who hounded me for 2 years. Father, mother, 2 kids and various hangers on living in the house opposite me.

I'm not going into details about what they did, they have been discussed elsewhere, and talking, writing or discussing them is difficult and painful. It is enough to say that it resulted in moving house, losing my job because my health wasn't robust enough to deal with it and spending my life ensuring I take my medication on time, which allows me to function in some way.

So back to the family across the road. I wasn't the only target for their abuse, far from it, they were quite generous in their abuse of the neighbours. I was targeted for special treatment because I wouldn't back down, I wouldn't ignore their antisocial behaviour and I challenged their abuse constantly. Maybe I set myself up for worse, but if we don't challenge this kind of behaviour, how do people who behave like that understand that it isn't acceptable?

Last year, the mum died. Of alcohol related disease. After this the abuse got worse. The kids, unable to express their feelings in any other way, took it out on everyone else. Dad continued to live the life that had killed his wife.

Yesterday I got a message from one of the neighbours still living there. The father of this family had died. My first response was not sympathy. It wasn't concern for the kids, both under 18 and needing guidance, support and care. It was relief, joy and immense satisfaction.

Am I a bad person?
All I wanted to do was celebrate, drink beer, dance, jump up and down on the spot.
I am a bad person.
I must be.
I was happy someone had died.

But at the same time the immense relief that he couldn't frighten me anymore, that the kids will be moved from this area and will, perhaps, learn how to be better people away from the influence of drug and alcohol addicted parents. Or maybe relief that yes, Karma does exist, sometimes takes it's time, but will always bring balance to the universe.

But still, I think I may be a bad person.