Scraping The Bottom Of The Barrel...

When the shit hits the fan, the shit really hits the fan.


About a month ago, I was chatting with a long-time friend (with whom I've had some issues for quite a while).  One word led to the next and she told me she wished she could be like me when things go sour, and just get really quiet, instead of bother everyone with her troubles.  I told her the main reason why I rarely confide in her is that I thought she didn't care.  She then said that in therapy she's working on her relationships and that she needed to hear the truth of what kind of a friend she'd been, and that I  should be honest.  I took her at her word and mentioned a few salient points that had been hurting me for at least 10 years.  Not petty, trifling things, but things that had hurt me for a long time.  Like the way she would hide when she saw I was coming, if she was with other people, so she wouldn't have to be around me.  The way she dropped me flat when she became friends with someone else.  The way she accused me of abandoning her when my family left town.  The way she took her issues out on me time after time, and for years I thought it was all my fault.  


Big, huge mistake with feckin' bells hanging off of it.


Friends, I have learned to never tell the truth when someone asks for it.  I have learned that you need to either sugarcoat everything, or tell the listener what he/she wants to hear, or change the subject, or run away screaming into the night.  NEVER TELL THE TRUTH!  Honesty is not the best policy.  Honesty means that you're World's Biggest Asshole.


Last night, after a couple of weeks of almost complete silence, she became very nasty, and I was not the only target.  Apparently, her favorite aunt is now against her, because she's been emotional.  The tally: She's lost the man she loved (he was an abusive, mentally-unstable jerk with massive control issues who got her into bed right after they met and then afterward told her he thought he had an STD), her favorite aunt hates her/she's now the black sheep of the family, and she's lost a friend.  Apparently I told her what a horrible person she was and I *gasp* judged her!!!


Are you &%$#@*% kidding me?!  Not once did the words, "you're a bad friend", "you're a bad person", etc., EVER pass my lips.  I merely told her, at her request, some of the things that have been hurting me for a long time, and that I've choked them down for a long time, too.




I am now persona non grata.  I make the devil himself look like Little Mary Sunshine.  


About 10 years ago, she complained to me that several ex-boyfriends referred to her as a psychopath once their relationships hit the skids.  I didn't see it before, but I'm seeing it now.  She's pretty damn vindictive.  As long as you kiss her ass, everything's peachy.  Fail to worship her in the appropriate manner, and she will punish you.


This morning, my punishment began when she got on Facebook and named the friends who have stood by her.  Needless to say, I was not mentioned.  I'm not terribly surprised, but I am offended because I've been more than patient with her.  I was there for her when the people she mentioned left her flat on her ass. This was followed by inspirational photos/sayings about how judging others makes you scum, about how you need to leave people better off than when you found them, and how Jesus is standing by her.


$#@& you, sweetheart.  And leave Jesus out of it.


I'm dreadfully frustrated.  Not only do I feel defeated but I also feel like I'm not allowed to have an opinion or feelings, or to defend myself.  One of the people that Psycho lauded this morning, recently looked her straight in the eye and told her that she was a shitty friend.  That is verbatim, and straight from Psycho's own mouth. But I'm the one who's the horse's ass.


It's been a lousy few weeks.  C.G. is now down south and my hopes for something with him are as dead as last year's Christmas tree.  This friend is probably no longer a friend (not that she was much of one to start) and won't shut up about it.  I'm being ignored by everyone around me, that is, until they want something.  What's a girl to do?


Well, I let my sister-in-law talk me into staying at their house for a week.  I went, joyfully.  I felt like I'd gotten a seat aboard the last chopper out of Saigon.  For one week, I ate like a pig, smoked, drank wine, ate some more.  Last Friday night, my brother, s-i-l, and I met their outrageously funny neighbor, Will, at a local bar.  For over 2 hours, s-i-l, Will and I drank like fish (my poor brother had to stay sober) and shot off our mouths and joked around and laughed ourselves silly.  And I raised my espresso martini to C.G. and his continuing health and happiness.  Finally, we staggered out the door, collapsed in the car, and my brother drove us all to a greasy spoon where we ate fried foods, guzzled coffee, and made fools of ourselves in public.


It was exactly what I needed.  I was sorry when I had to return home.  But, it helped speed up my grieving process over C.G.  My grief reached its zenith last Monday and Tuesday morning, I woke up feeling better.  Don't get me wrong, I'm still not thrilled about this.  I'm so disappointed and wish I had someone to vent to, but I'll survive.


I wish I could go someplace for a week to get over my disgust with Psycho.


Anyway, I'm at the end of the road.  I have no choice but to move on.  I woke up at 5:15 a.m. and resumed T-Tapp after a two-week pause.  I resumed skin brushing (no way am I going to have loose skin when all my weight is gone).  I finally got off my butt and did some grocery shopping (lots of fruit and vegetables, only a little chocolate), and now I'm back to plowing my way through that BBC reading list.  I've played the fat slob/loser role for too long, and I'm sick of it.  Time to get off my ass, get some things done, maybe dust off a few dreams while I'm at it.  I can't sit around any longer and I sure as hell am not going to let anyone punish me.


Just don't ask me for my honest opinion.