Mean Girl Monday

"Why would she do this to me?" asked in bewilderment by a lovely lady through her tears. Betrayal, the hardest of all pills to swallow, the actions of a so-called friend throwing trust into disarray. Making you question your judgement of others.

I had no answer. I do not know why this person hurts with intent, I do not know if it is her insecurity or a purile power play. I do know she is not someone anyone needs in their lives. She is toxic. A mean girl. The mean girl who turned on me almost two years ago, the toxic former friend who made my life hell, and still tries to even now.

But for this other friend the betrayal was fresh and raw and bleeding. Even though the actions of this person were a long time ago she had only just found out about it. And she came to me because she now understood words I had spoken to her months before. "Be cautious, this is a small town, watch your back." That was all, no accusations, no ranting, no names, no pack drill. With her newfound knowledge these words resonated and the reason became clear.

"Was it her? Is that what you were talking about?" Yes. I knew of her disgusting claims and behaviour, there are so many she has maligned, lied and bitched about. So many power plays hidden below a smile as she plunged the knife deeply again and again. I could not tell people, I would not stoop to a he said/she said battle. To be honest I think back then when the campaign of shadows and whispers began, most would have believed her. She plays the sad, little victim so well - it is an art she perfected. Maybe my reasons were not quite so noble, maybe I was afraid to ask people to choose. Hell, I believed her for years and it is only with the clarity of hindsight I see how truly absurd some of her accusations were.

Whatever, it was all over now as she seriously underestimated her power and control over others, alienating more and more people. It was another of her disgusted former friends who outed her. One who grew sick of the nastiness and vile attacks, one who had the courage to call enough and walk away. One who knows all I know and more. One who will not stand by and tolerate any more bullshit.

And as each person finds out the truth, the word spreads. Last Friday as I talked with this woman, her pain turned to anger. And revenge. My advice was to walk away, cut the festering wound out, let her cut her own throat. For she will, and has already begun to. I do not know if my words reached past the need to hurt back, an emotion I understood all too well. I hope, for this lovely woman's sake, they did. If not, then others will be hurt as they are told of her lies and deception. But maybe they need to know. It will not be me unmasking her, but I am no longer keeping silent. If asked I am open and honest... or as others accuse me of, blunt and brutal. Sometimes if the scab has been pulled a little it is just better to rip it off fast.

"Why would she do this to me?"  Because she does it to everybody. She is a mean girl. Soon she will be a mean, lonely girl who nobody wants to play with.

Irrational

I am sitting here, sobbing my eyes out after watching a comedy: The Boat That Rocked. The boat sank and they were alone. I am alone.

Irrational, I know, but right now in the dark, lonely place I lurk, it is entirely logical to me. I give friendship easily, I love to envelope, nurture, hold, feel. Trust is slower. Trust is deeper. So when not once, but twice it is hurled back into my face as ME betraying them, it hurts. I NEVER, even after someone cuts me to the heart, will betray their trust. It is not the way I work. But I hate it.

I hate the paranoia it creates, I hate the lying, the games, the way I question EVERYTHING in my life. And at this point, I am so scared if what is happening to me is serious, I hate the way the people who were meant to be there for my kids will let them down the way they have let me down, and will shape them.

Oh God, my oldest has come so far, I want him to have the emotional, nuturing, mummy parachute that maybe I will not provide. I am probably being stupid. But know that people who are supposedly friends in my life do not believe that the test results show nothing and yet I throw up blood. But both my children and my husband have witnessed it. Fuck. Maybe I am the internal Jesus. I so wanted it to be an ulcer. I want answers.

Dear God, why do they not see?

I am always the strong one for them - do they not see my Achilles heel? I hate people sometimes.

One hand waving...

I have awoken engulfed in rage. I am angry, really angry. Triggered by an inanimated object's breakdown (my computer crashed and lost a lot of important financials as it was in the midst of a long, complicated process by one of the programs), my outrage has turned to other events over the last few weeks.

I am sick to death of the two-faced liars of this world walking away without fallout from their actions, I am tired of being made out to be the bad guy, I hate that people are so gullible as to believe the falsities that dribble venomously from tainted lips. I am so sickened by the actions and nastiness of others that I am succumbing to the temptation of joining them in the abyss.

I have all their secrets. I am a ticking bomb sliding uncontrollably towards detination. And I have proof of their words, deeds and lies.

I do not want to be like this. It is against my own personal code of honour to betray even the most insidious villian, especially as it will hurt those who are being sucked in by their untruths. I am not like them, twisted, warped, so caught up in their web that the lines of fact and fiction are perpetually entangled in their own bitter brains. But it is so tempting. And I am so angry.

There are times I know I am quite capable of turning into the very thing I despise. This is one of them. I do not like this.