hell to the no

posted 7 December 2021
tags: , , | categories: Bitches & Moans, Blast from the Past, WTH?!
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Sometimes I look at a person (literally and figuratively) and wonder just what the ever lovin’ fuck they are thinking. Today it was a figurative look.

An unexpected friend request on Facebook waited for me this morning when I logged on. It was from someone I haven’t spoken to in over 12 years. It was a period of silence that I have been perfectly okay with. Truth be told, I have had zero desire to end that period of silence. That desire hasn’t changed, only deepened, after the events of today.

The friend request came in overnight, at least in my timezone, the last in the US. And with the friend request came a very long IM, a long “apology.” I use quotation marks because it truly was a half-assed piece of drivel masquerading as a sign of remorse. I’d been on Facebook for all of five minutes and made my way through 2/3 of her fictional piece when I got another message from her, berating me for not having accepted her friend request, as well as for not having yet answered her message. The message I was still reading. But I’m guessing she saw the “Read” notification, and that was all it took.

Needless to say, neither of these things (the half-assed apology and the admonition) did much to motivate me toward renewed friendship. Especially since the initial message was full of the same passive-aggressive phrasing she used back in a day when she tried to avoid taking actual responsibility for her actions, or tried to make her victim feel guilty for no deserved reason.

I finished the drivel, closed it for the time being, and sat back to contemplate what I’d read. But it was difficult to focus when the incoming message notification rang one after another.

There were good reasons I cut the metaphorical cord.

I met her through my husband and hers. She was young, newly married, fresh to the Army. Her husband was one of my husband’s soldiers, and they lived near us. Despite the age difference, we hit it off. At first. But it wasn’t long before I realized I was she was toxic as fuck.

That became very obvious the day she called me to tell me she needed to talk to me immediately. I’ll never forget it. I had things going on, but she didn’t care, simply informed me she was coming over and hung up. Two minutes later, my front door opened and in she walked, ignoring the whole “knock on the door” part of the process.

Ooookay.

She sat down on my couch and told me to get rid of my kids. Uh, what? I suppose this is a good time to mention that I had four of them. And it was 9am on a Saturday, so they were all there. She had no children and no understanding of what being a parent meant in terms of responsibility. Which was a major issue for her because she expected me to be on call 24/7 for her.

I digress. That particular morning was about something else. She informed me in no uncertain terms that I had disappointed her and that I was a terrible friend. Considering I’d spent the last three months since our husbands deployed to Afghanistan bending over backward for her, I was understandably at a loss. I’d helped her husband find an apartment for them, helped him set it up. I’d spent an inordinate amount of time trying to convince my husband to cut her husband a break, when really the guy was a terrible soldier. I’d spent literally hours listening to her, helping her do even the most basic things. This was a girl who’d grown up spoiled as hell, and she didn’t know the first thing about adulting.

So when I regained the ability to speak, I asked her what she meant. She informed me that my only purpose during the deployment was to make her feel special and needed during the deployment. At the risk of repetition… uh, what?

I wasn’t entirely sure how the hell that was my job. I’m still not. She told me that it was my responsibility to lean on her and vent to her in order to make her feel good about herself. Okay, I sort of understood the concept, but to demand it like that? A whole lotta needy. And venting to her was problematic for a number of reasons. One, even if I’d had something to vent about, when would I have had the chance? I was too busy listening to her vent about everything. Two, the vents I did have were about her, so how the hell could I vent to her about her?

After that it went back to her usual gripe about my need to be available to her 24/7. She used to get pissed because I didn’t call her at least four times a day, and I couldn’t always hang out. Well, fuck me silly. That’s called motherhood, Domestic Goddesshood, and work, sister. And since Corey was deployed, there’s only one of me around to do what needed to be done. And God forbid I might take time to just hang with my kids or family.

But it really came to a head the day she sent me a vile text because I hadn’t responded to her within fifteen minutes of her initial text. I hadn’t responded because I’d been worshipping the porcelain goddess. I was going through fucking chemo, sick as a dog… which she knew. When I finally did respond, I told her I felt like shit, to give me some time, I’d get over it. That set off a whole series of vile texts.

She called me silly and basically wrote everything off that I was feeling as bullshit and that pretty much threw me over the edge. The total lack of respect for me as a person is just insulting. I apologized, with a great deal of sarcasm, for not getting over it fast enough for her.  I also pointed out, with all of her lecturing to me about being a good friend, that perhaps she should have been one herself and not laid more shit on me.  I pointed out that it wouldn’t be outside the realm of possibility that I might have some things on my mind at the moment.

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t long after that that I finally had to cut the cord. It got bad, to the point where she was harrassing me almost daily. I couldn’t take it.

And it doesn’t seem that much has changed. It’s been 6.5 hours or so since I opened that IM. The only response I’ve given was after the fifth subsequent admonishing message, to which I responded “Please stop, <insert name here>.” I have more than a hundred messages that have been sent since then. And now the texts have started. I have the same number I had back then, and apparently she still has it.

Looks like I’ll be doing some blocking this afternoon.

::spread the love::

One response to “hell to the no

  1. Wow. After so many years, how very odd. Totally odd, like insanely. Good for you not engaging in whatever she has in mind. It can’t be anything beneficial to you.
    I’ve never faced anyone that bad, but I don’t communicate with my youngest older brother. No one does, and he did it to himself. Sometimes you have to cut the cord, as you say, to preserve your own mental health.
    I just can’t imagine someone just walking in, sitting down, and telling you to get your kids out of the way! Spoiled and entitled, or just plain, literally crazy. Not your problem at any rate!

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