The kettle whistle will eventually blow. The guy on the edge will fall off when a strong wind comes. And me, well, I’ll eventually not be so cool about things.
For the past few months I’ve been getting harassed via social media, email, text messages, etc. It’s been mind blowing because I couldn’t quite figure out what it was I did to whoever was doing it. Did I spit on someone by accident? Did I talk too much about Tyler Perry or Oprah? Did I say something out of the way to one of my ultra sensitive followers? Mind blowing.
I chalked it up at first to someone who couldn’t quite figure out how to deal with their anger productively. Then I realized this was productive to them, and the messages began rolling. I’ve always been able to handle being harassed, threatened, mistreated. I usually just talked to the person and belittled them to the point where suicide became a viable option for them. But in the last few months, the harassment moved into the lives of my friends and family, and that is what I can’t handle. I snap.
In my old age I’ve grown soft. Years ago I would have grabbed my grandmother’s machete and taken to the streets and knock on a few doors (google my name and you may find the article that proves this). Allow me to break it down a bit for you: I spent my youth shaking hands and making friends and brothers and sisters out of those I knew would mean something to me at various points in my life. Some of these friends, brothers, and sisters are cops, magistrates, government contracts, hired guns, and bakers (gotta love a good donut). In this situation, I went to my brother the magistrate, then to his friends, the cops.
Two years ago I was involved in a similar situation. An angered employee of mine began slandering me online, and harassing me and my coworkers. After giving her the chance to apologize and being told “fuck you, you dumb motherfucker. It wasn’t me,” I went to the magistrate then to the cops, and two days later she was picked up at her parents house at 6am, slammed on the hood of the car, and taken to jail. I received a call that evening from her apologizing and asking if something could be worked out. Of course not. That window of opportunity was now closed. “You lost me at ‘motherfucker,'” I told her. She received six months jail time.
This new harasser is slicker and more advanced. Not a dumb one at all. Able to hide behind walls and blend in when necessary. When I think I have the culprit, I’m wrong. I applaud this one. But there’s always a slip up somewhere. Always a mistake. Always an exception.
For me, this has been especially nerve wrecking because I know I know this person. This is someone who’s been in my home, and I’ve been in theirs. We’ve laughed together, I’m sure. I’ve been playing every email, note, text, tweet and time stamp through my head, and each time I do it, I narrow it down a little more. This is hard because I stopped trusting friends for a moment, and lost two friends as well. My mind has been too focused on this.
I’m not working with a novice. No, this harasser is a pro. Today I gathered every piece of writing I’ve received, and those my friends received and I took them to the places they needed to go. I talked to the people I needed to speak to. Special thanks to my trusty comrade who spoke sense into me in the end.
This is what I’m offering (though I know it’ll probably bite me in the end): Total forgiveness if you reveal yourself and apologize to me and others who’ve been hurt, along with an explanation. While it’s true I may never find out who you are (assuming there’s only one), there is a great chance I will, and I promise I will go all the way with the consequences, no matter how many laughs, tears, moments, plates and drinks we’ve shared.