Home » A Wasted Life » Seeking Justice And Revenge.

Seeking Justice And Revenge.

I sometimes find myself almost consumed with seeking justice.  It’s not a new emotion but it is becoming more and more prevalent.  It’s one of my faults that Loser was trying to spell out to the judge, when he wanted to look like a “wonderful guy.”
It is a fault but I think it’s a normal reaction when you have been so damaged by somebody.  I think it becomes an obsession when that person has escaped any kind of reckoning.
I’ve always heard the phrase “just wait for Karma.”  I’m not sure Karma exists or if it does, what satisfaction comes from waiting?  Is it Karmic justice when it visits after the person has had a long, healthy, wealthy life?
Is it really Karmic justice when a mobster who slaughtered people, finally gets “caught” when he’s in his nineties? The people who were killed and their families paid the price.  The mobsters didn’t.
Where is the justice when a child is literally beaten to death…or is locked in a closet without food or water…or one of the worst….is completely unwanted and unloved?  The children suffered.  The parents didn’t.
Where is the justice when veterans who willingly or by force, fought in a horrible war for our freedom and returned home to criticism and homelessness?  Those brave, unsung heroic warriors suffered.  The government didn’t.
Where is the justice when old people are literally abandoned because they require too much care from their children? These are the same people who sacrificed their youth, and sometimes their own hopes and dreams to raise those children but the children are too busy enjoying their own lives.  The old people suffer.  The children don’t.
Where is the justice for me after forty years of abuse from a drunken mother-in-law?  She got justice.  All she wanted was for me to be out of her precious older sons’ life.  She didn’t suffer.  I did.
My justice seeking mentality when I was younger was more in the form of hoping for a miracle.  I thought that suddenly one day, I would wake up and my mama would love me.  That would have been justice.
When I got old enough to realize that miracles didn’t happen, I consciously hoped that some day, something would hurt my mama as much as she had hurt me, just so she would know how it felt.  I even accepted the ever-present possibility of Hell beckoning but I didn’t care.  I wanted justice.
She lived a long, healthy life with the love and adoration of her other two daughters and all of her friends.
Karma didn’t visit.  She didn’t pay for her abuse.  I did.
When I was twelve, my biology teacher gave us a paper we had to write that was going to count as half of our grade for the year.  I had planned what I was going to write and I was going to illustrate it as well, since I knew how to draw.  When I got home, I got one of the worst beatings I had ever had.  I remember trying to run to my room but I was literally dragging mama behind me because she had me by the hair.
Needless to say, I didn’t do my paper.  I didn’t even think about it.  When I got to class the next day and realized I had forgotten it, I just put my name on a blank piece of paper and turned it in….no explanation…no excuses…nothing but my name.  I knew I was going to get a “0.”  Karma didn’t visit mama.  She didn’t pay.  I did.
Later that afternoon, I was called into the office.  I was scared because I didn’t know what I had done.  The guidance counselor and the principal were both sitting there…shooting little arrows at me…..not the giant killers that mama would shoot but arrows just the same.
The guidance counselor asked me why I didn’t do my paper.  I told her that I just forgot.
I had always gotten straight A’s in all my classes and now I was facing a potential failing grade in one of subjects required for promotion to the next year.  It was serious and I knew it but at that particular moment, I didn’t care.
While I was sitting there (like I was on trial) the counselor asked me if I knew what my “IQ” was.  I remember feeling like I had forgotten to study for that question….was I supposed to know or was she making fun of me?
Why would I know what my IQ was?  I had been told repeatedly “you’re so smart” by mama but back in those days, intelligence quotients were not divulged.  She handed me a piece of paper and there it was.
I could see such disappointment in her face when she was asking me why I didn’t do the paper.  She even mentioned that she knew about my recent “spelling” event.  They kept track of the best spellers so we could compete in spelling “bees.”  She said Mrs. O***** told her that it took three solid days of doing nothing but giving me words to spell before I finally missed one.  I was tired and the other children in the class were putting their heads down on the desk because they knew they were going to be doing noting but listening to me spell words. The word that got me down was assassination.  I left out one of the “asses.”      I found it years later and married him.
It was almost like I was getting the “third degree.”  After a while, I broke down and told her about mama.  Her expression then turned to sympathy.  She got up, came over to my chair and was going to put her arm around me but I flinched and she got an instantaneous angry look on her face.
She sat back down and then asked me if I wanted her to call mama and talk to her.  I remember getting up and backing myself into the corner, while literally begging her not to call.  She listened to my pleadings and promised she wouldn’t.  She lied.
When I got home, I thought mama was literally going to beat me to death.  I remember running to the window.  I guess I was thinking about jumping out.  I looked down and saw one of the neighbors in her yard, looking up, listening and watching….and doing nothing.
As far as I know, Karma never visited that counselor after she broke her promise to me.  She didn’t pay.  I did.
I think about the way my daughters have treated me.  I think about the things they have said to me.  I don’t want Karma to visit them but maybe it could just make them think about how they would feel (especially the one who is a mother) if they were talked to and treated the way I was.  No vengeance or retribution wanted here….just a little understanding but it isn’t there.  They didn’t suffer.  I did.
I think about the way Loser has treated me and talked to me and I think about the things he has done to me….and I want my pound of flesh.  I admit that there are times when I wish that I knew a few of those “mobsters.”  A few shattered kneecaps or thumbscrews or better yet….electrodes attached to a scrotum would bring a little satisfaction but I’m not sure it would be sufficient.  Broken bones heal.  I know.
In my letter to him, I actually said “I hope retribution, in whatever form, seeks you out with a vengeance and the delivery is swift and just.” 
Retribution will not visit him.  Karma will not visit him.  Mobsters will not visit him.
He has never suffered.  I have.

4 thoughts on “Seeking Justice And Revenge.

  1. And yet, you’re still standing. Congrats to you for being better, stronger and smarter, than the fucktards who tried to take you down. Celebrate your victory.


  2. My friend, your feelings are consuming you. They are covering your eyes like a veil and ruining moments you need to treasure. Life is only ONCE. We need to make the best of it. Have a happy Sunday. Sorry for my two cents.


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