Letting Go of an Anger That’s Consumed Me

405175_346201918794220_1807893270_nThis is a tale of heartache, anger, release, and personal growth for me….

“Yeah, fine, I killed the dogs. I hung them. I slammed them. I killed all of them. I lost fucking millions, all over some fucking dogs.” ~ Michael Vick (from the article that inspired this post, and here is the link: http://dogtime.com/trending/28239-michael-vick-deserve-forgiveness-nfl-fans-draw-line?utm_source=DogTime+Newsletter&utm_campaign=ba04f5aa7a-CatTime_Newsletter_289_9_2015&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_60528d8c03-ba04f5aa7a-155110501)

This is why I have such a hard time with the topic of Vick and the NFL, even refusing to watch for two years. It’s why I have such a hard time forgiving the franchises that signed him and forgiving the fans that root for him and his teams despite his deeds. Just seeing that Eagles logo (which is everywhere since I’m in the Philadelphia area) would ignite my temper.  The worst for me was seeing people who claimed they were huge dog lovers but continued to support the team, even putting Eagles-themed merchandise such as collars and doggie tees on their pets.

I’m trying, though, really working to move past the anger and disgust and disbelief I have over the millions he’s been paid since, the status he’s been allowed to re-obtain, and the indifference of the owners and majority of fans. It’s been difficult to comprehend that six points on a billboard sponsored by Coors Light matter more to the majority of sports fans in this area than what’s right. It may always be a struggle for me, but I’m trying.

I can’t see ever forgiving Vick, though, for he has never shown himself to be remorseful for his actions. I may never forgive those that gave him the millions, either.

But I know that holding the anger I have had toward the fans isn’t hurting them one bit, I’ve just been hurting myself. I will still refuse to support the Eagles, and will not support the Steelers, the team I turned to when the Eagles signed Vick and for whom he now plays.

I am now pulling for the success of a third team, one that regularly faces the Eagles, because I value morality over entertainment, period. I know that I am not alone in this, but I also know that I am not able to make those not of my inclinations see it my way, either. If anyone is to ever come to share my values at all, they must come to that realization in their own time.

So in the meantime, I will work on letting that anger go.

It’s important to note that a story of the NFL paying for injury research performed on animals factored into my decision to no longer watch. This increased the volume of fire generated by my anger. I have to get over the rage from this as well, hoping that change can be made to stop this from happening.  There is a petition for exactly that at the end of this post. One thing that has come to my mind recently is that I haven’t refused to take medicines for my health despite knowing they were tested on animals in most cases.  Again, I can can only work and hope others join me to stop this.

So in light of this, I watched football last night, my first game in years, rooting for the Giants, a team that has no known sexual or domestic assailants, child abusers, murderers, or horrific torturers of man’s best friend. Some have said that I “caved” or that I “couldn’t back up my convictions.”

But I know that’s not the case. I know what’s in my heart, and I know how deeply and strongly my convictions run. I know that this is me trying to move past an anger, an obsession even, that has only hurt myself and not the objects of my disdain. It’s therapeutic for me to attempt this. I tried watching a game last year, but once I saw that Eagles logo on the field and the fans in the stands, I had to turn the game off. The rage and disgust started brewing instantly. I don’t know if I’ll ever hold the same love of the game, have the same emotional investment in it that I used to. But I need to write a new page, for my own sake. I have to make peace with the things I cannot change, because I’ve damaged the innermost parts of me by setting emotional fires everywhere I could. My compromise is that I will not purchase anything which feeds the revenue stream of the league.  If I choose to replace a hat or t-shirt, etc., I will buy something used or something older off of ebay, which is actually a conscientious thing to do anyway. It’s a form of recycling.

As for Vick himself, I can only hope I’m wrong about his apparent lack of humanity, humility, and compassion. And as for those teams by whom he’s been employed since and the fans in question, they don’t want or need my love, nor do they care about my beliefs and principals. I’m going to have to learn to be fine with that.

The petition to stop the animal injury testing:

https://secure.peta.org/site/Advocacy?cmd=display&page=UserAction&id=5019

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Awesome anti-dogfighting video (don’t worry, it’s not graphic):

https://video-lga1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hvideo-xap1/v/l/t42.1790-2/1482680_328559340615420_420959628_n.mp4?efg=eyJxZSI6InZpZGVvX3ByZWZlcnJlZF90YWdzXzIwMTUwMTIxLDIwMTUwMTAxIiwicmxyIjo0ODksInJsYSI6NTEyfQ%3D%3D&rl=489&vabr=272&oh=5295079a670e4042c6612420c2afbda6&oe=55F85588

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Where you can purchase the “Pits Over Points” shirt shown above:

http://www.etsy.com/transaction/1058186024?campaign_label=transaction_buyer_notification&utm_source=Steelhouse&utm_campaign=Display_DynamicRTG_General2_300x250&utm_medium=display&utm_content=&email_sent=1441235192&euid=unIIMLRjPPRkp-EgVaO_Bg15cbsG&eaid=29921430779&x_eaid=60544d6130

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Our Words: “With Great Prowess Comes Great Responsibility”

6275825-a-pile-of-reference-books-isolated-against-a-white-backgroundI have a friend who said to me, “Words are powerful things.”  It was quite some time ago, but I believe I was saying something hurtful at the time.  And, as a writer (one of my few true skills), I had the ability to make my words really sting.

I’ve heard that there are studies in which the power of words was tested by saying “I love you” and “I hate you” to dishes of freezing water to see if there was any effect.  Reportedly, the ‘loved’ samples made beautiful crystalline formations, and the ‘hated’ samples made very fractured-looking structures.  I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I DO know what words can do to a person.

It’s rather hypocritical of me to be hurtful with my words, since I can still remember the things that were said to me as a child by my peers.  And let’s not talk about adolescence.  It’s because of that lingering pain that I have felt the need to amp up my words into a full-blown arsenal when I feel slighted.  It’s the desire to one-up the other and dish out more than you’ve received.

Words are indeed powerful things, and just as I’ve seen the hurt I can cause and have been caused, I’ve seen what KIND words can do and what my own have done for others.  I’ve had someone very important to me tell me how I always seem to say the right thing, the best, most perfect thing to help them stay grounded in that moment and maintain perspective.  You know what?  I like the feeling it gives me to have THAT effect on someone better than the scarring one.

I’ve mentioned a few times in this blog that I’m in a couple writers’ groups.  We ALL have this power, and ALL have this responsibility.  Even if you’re not a writer, the pain that words can cause can still last.  I’m sure the people that hurt me from childhood and on weren’t exactly Shakespearean in their verbal skill.  So may we all bear in mind the power of words, and pause before we do some damage to someone, because oftentimes that damage lasts far longer than it took to even speak.

Words: “With Great Prowess Comes Great Responsibility”   

  

Someone once said to me, “Words are powerful things”.

They can be used to help, or to hurt, an array that each one brings.

I’ve used my words in scathing ways, cutting deeply as I could;

I’ve also used them to let one know their pain is understood.

     I hope that when my time is up, what’s left when mine are heard

     Is something benevolent and sincere or else be deemed absurd.

     May others feel the light of love that’s hopefully interred

     Every time, from here on out, within my every word.

I have a gift to use my words in all the ways I do;

I’ve often been praised for all the shapes that I can mold them to.

But I must revere that power that I know they each contain,

Remember all the times they’re used, intent to cause one pain.

     May each sentence that I share leave no darkness that’s inferred,

     And if I fail in that regard, leave the recipient undeterred.

     Unless productive, taking flight like a paradisiacal bird,

     May no harm and only help be born by every word.

© Jordan Alan Fox 

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When a Plus Is Outweighed by a Minus….

In the time it took to write that last post, I hit follower #200 on my advocacy page.  I don’t feel like celebrating, though.  In the same period of time, it was announced that a dog which had been attacked by another dog had died.  There were so many of us following this dog’s story, I can’t even guess the numbers.  Hundreds?  Thousands?  I don’t know.  We were all over the country.

The dog’s injury was one to his face.  I’ve seen the photos.  His snout was literally ripped upwards from his skull.  From the front, You could see his eyes with the skin and fur of his nose sticking straight up between them.  His teeth and skull on the upper part of the muzzle were where they should be for the most part, but without what should have been covering them.  It was awful.  The dog was dropped off by the the supposed owners at a shelter, in that condition.

A vet in California had tried to perform emergency surgery after a young man volunteered to take the dog from the shelter to the vet.  They sewed his face back together, and put gauze all around his head to try to get the skin to adhere to the skull again.  The doctor even took him home that night to keep an eye on him.  There was so much support, so many prayers, offers to help pay, you name it.  So many people wanted this dog to make it.

We knew this was a serious injury, and there was a good chance he wouldn’t make it.  He eventually succumbed to cardiac failure, probably from all of the sedation it took to keep him comfortable and from possibly hurting himself further.

When I got this news, I just broke down.  Like he was MY dog.  Like he was MY family.  Maybe, in a way, he WAS.  We were united as a family caring for one of their own.  We all invested in him emotionally, wanted him to recover, and wanted him to know love and happiness.  His death, to me, made it seem like nothing mattered anymore.  Many of you might not understand this devotion to a dog, especially to one I hadn’t even met.  People waited to hear about the miners (in Chile, was it?) that were trapped in the mine a while back.  They anxiously waited on Elian Gonzales’ fate.  This was an equivalent for those of us that fight for and dearly love animals and nature.

I certainly didn’t think that my 200th fan meant anything after this news.

It took the signing of about twenty petitions to help pull me out of this funk, as well as another WordPress writer’s post.  If you care to check it out, the post is “Running Water’ on silverpoetry.wordpress.com.  http://silverpoetry.wordpress.com/2012/03/11/running-water/#comment-212

I caught a rumor that this dog was actually attacked in a dog fight.  Oren, as the dog became known, was a poodle, so if this is true, he was a bait dog, used to whet the adrenalized appetites of the fighting dogs before the actual match.  I hope the fuckers responsible pay, even if this is not the case, even if it was simply an owner whose dog had an accident; who just drops a dog in that condition off at the shelter, not even taking him to a vet?  I hope there is a such thing as Karma.

Advocacy Part III

Pardon my language, but the two most fucked up things I think I’ve ever seen were both seen this week. No other language could be used here.  I saw a dog who had a firecracker duct taped inside his mouth, and a puppy who had his face split lengthwise by an ax. Both dogs were still alive at the time the photos were taken. I know the firecracker one was not able to be saved, and I’m not certain of the ax dog. I just cried when I saw the ax picture. I don’t get it. How are people able to do these things? My hope in this life had evacuated my body for five minutes. I hate people.

Update, 1/13/12:  I have since dug around and found that the puppy struck by the ax did indeed survive, with a snaking scar traveling from his forehead to his upper lip, having missed the button of its nose.  I wish I could adopt that dog and give it all the love it could need and more, but I know it’s not to be.