Grump in Book Seven: Reconstruction 2020

I think it is funny how people read my entries and think they know me. You read the words I share. And while I hold those words dear, sacred even, because they are my attempt to process and vent and think… they are not WHO I am. There are three people on this site that I truly consider friends. And even one of those people I often clash with but I consider her a dear friend anyway because I understand why we clash. There are many others on this site that I would like to meet, to honestly get to know. Not just the words here because the words here AREN’T the person. And for many of you, I’d like to get to know you. But I think it is really honestly true. I have been too open. Too accepting of other people’s thoughts and words. And one of my friends in this site told me recently… yes, told me because if you are my friend here you have my Facebook Contact and we can have discussions… she said, “it frustrates me when people think what you share on Prosebox is who you are. You’re a lot more than what you share there!”

So let’s be honest. You don’t know me. You know some of the most intimate PARTS of my life (depending on how long you’ve been reading me) but that is still just a PART.

On the other hand… this is all really important for my growth. I need to reach the point where people’s negative thoughts, opinions, and words don’t have any effect on me. Because that is a part of my career I need to conquer. I act with as much honor, ethical concern, and passion for justice as I have in my body. My boss wants me to be more hardass, my community wants me to break the law “in the name of justice”, and the law itself wants to remove power from law enforcement and my office. So, I permanently exist in a world where I am the bad guy to everyone because I want the world to be a better place. If you want help, I want to get you help. If you want to do whatever you want without consequences, I will do what I can to be those consequences. So this is all an important thing for me. I just… I’d like to find some place where I can be understood, cared for, and not attacked. Perhaps a foolish desire in such a world.

Maybe… maybe it is time I am alone. No input, no comments, no intermingling. After all, why should I give a damn what someone hundreds of miles away in a different state or different country thinks about a small town Iowa prosecutor trying to do the right thing in a small Uber-Red county? I mean… I want to be open to different experiences and different points of view and different ways of thinking. But the more I look into it? The more I realize I’m just opening myself up to further attack from people who barely understand me.