You know that story about the wisdom of King Solomon? The two women were fighting over who had the rights to the baby, so King Solomon said, "How 'bout we just slice the baby in half ?" So the person that really loves the baby says, "Don't cut the baby in half. She can have it." And King Solomon says, "Well, you love the baby more so you can have it."
So this is like a moral dilemma. Suppose a group of people are banding together to slice up your heart and your soul. Would you play dirty pool just cuz they choose to? Should you drag out the big guns? If you knew the name of the grade school teacher that writes erotica on the side, would you reveal that? Would you threaten to? Would that be blackmail? Even if you felt it was totally justified to survive their onslaught, to save yourself? To save all that was important to you? Stuff that is meaningless to them. They are just doing it for spite. Would you threaten to tell the guy that hides his marijuana stash in your garage to keep his wife from knowing that she will learn about it if he doesn't back down, if he doesn't take a different tack? Would you talk it up in all the right social circles about the engaged couple that are seeing a urologist to get the husband-to-be wired up with a penis pump? If you heard all these things with no warnings or stipulations, is it fair game? If they go ahead and continue to attack you, when you know and they know you are undeserving of it, should you just reveal all? Should you warn them of what may be in store? Should you sit like a little mouse with your Christian conscience and let them ride rough shod over you? My Christian conscience tells me to be a swell guy and keep all the dirty little secrets and hope Karma sorts it out. (Yeah. I know the Karma thing doesn't meld with the Christian conscience, but it is my mind, so get over that.) But the subject of my quandary is far too precious to gamble with.
These are real issues that the midwestern grandmother faces daily. Someone made a remark about one of my novels. "Enjoyable read, but I don't know if it would play out in real life." Wanna bet? Does each and every Mr. or Mrs. Tom, Dick and Harry America have this shit raining down on them all the time? Or is it just me? Maybe it is my own misperception. But I do have court documents bearing out this tale of woe and disconsternation.
Weigh in. I am actually thinking of taking steps to erase the problem completely. I discussed with someone just today what would be the outcome of my court ordered mental eval. Would I live out the few short days left to me in a prison or in a mental ward? Would it matter? Actually, not at all to me if it served to preserve some of the things that I find the most precious meaning in after all other considerations.
Strange how looking down the barrel of a gun can distract you from all the other weapons aimed at you.