Memories, October 2018, 1

07 Sunday Oct 2018

Why did she tell him things about me, that I had long since told him? Did she think I would hide anything from him? The fact that she and her fuck buddy are natural liars (in things of consequence, as well as things of no import) and have a deep-seated terror of being truly known by anyone else–or being known by themselves, maybe–doesn’t mean the rest of us are like that.

Any time I messaged my alleged friend (her fuck buddy) within a few hours, she had responded by sending half-truths and whole truths and outright fantasies to my love, trying to get him to dislike or distrust me. He asked me a dozen times or more (I like the romance of the phrase, “a dozen times or more,” but in reality, he probably asked 40 or more times, in about two months) if he could please just block her, and let’s be done with her obvious, weak-minded efforts at shit-stirring; he found it unutterably dull, more than anything else, but he also saw that it upset me to see how much she had lied in pretending to be my friend, and how desperate she was to hurt me, despite my still trying to wish her well.

The more my “friend” took her side, and made excuses for her behaviour–all the while playing on her well-documented instability, and trying to have us both in his life, without either committing to her properly or agreeing that we had a right to protect ourselves from her, i.e. by blocking her texts and other messages–the more it became clear, we couldn’t remain friends. Eventually, he was only contacting me to complain about my Vaguebooking (yes, often about this situation–but minus names, and if he felt guilty when he read some of the particulars, he should’ve tried to make amends, not harass me for offloading about my own hurts) and so I blocked him, and her, and several of the other people who had harassed me on Facebook, the previous year. (By harassment, I mean criminal offences–cyber bullying, threats of bodily harm, slander/libel, etc–which I was too forgiving, and too loyal to my “friend”, to go to the police about.)

I’m happier, now. I try not to think of them at all, or if I must, to remember their good points… that, I concede, is a struggle. What is the “good point” of two people who (with the benefit of hindsight plus the counsel of your loved ones) you now believe only ever lied to you and used you?

The main comfort I have, is that two such consummate liars deserve each other. They proved, repeatedly, that they were most adept at lying to themselves… so whether they’re happy or not, perhaps they’ll convince themselves they are, and stay together. I can’t think of many fates worse than that–so even if they enjoy living in a web of mutual falsehood, I can’t actually comprehend that, and deep down, I think they must be suffering in a way they’ve earned. And were they happy in truth, I’d still be done with them, and grateful for it.

But. Little things still niggle at me, from time to time, and yes, I’ll admit, still make me angry… the thought that she, a two-faced bitch who was lying the entire time she knew me, thought she could tell my (now) husband *anything* about me, that he didn’t know? Who the fuck does she think she is?

No. Who the fuck does she think I am, to keep secrets from the man I love and will spend the rest of my life with… does she think I’m her?

Prayer vs. Medicine (“Mature” Language Warning)

08 Sunday Jun 2014

Posted by SuperDepressed in Angry Posts

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angry, fundamentalist, fundies, idiots, power of positive thinking, rant, ranting, religion, religion vs. science

Browsing my Facebook page the other day, I saw a little notice someone had posted. It was a fairly standard, please-pray-for-such-and-such-who’s-been-hospitalized request… at least, it was until I got to the part where the woman asking made the statement that her dad “had issues” with his prostate a couple of years back, and instead of having medical treatment, he “left it in God’s hands”.

To that I say–FUCK OFF. You may think me harsh, but there is no chance on God’s green earth I’m going to waste my breath/God’s time praying for someone who didn’t have the common sense to address their medical issues AT LEAST 2 years ago when they presented themselves. Everyone can miss things about their own health; don’t get me wrong, I’m not advocating extreme hypochondria and life in the doctor’s office; but for his daughter to know that his trouble was linked to his prostate indicates that he *did* go see a doctor, he *did* get some sort of diagnosis and/or treatment plan, and then, he just chose to ignore it.

Fuck you. If you, living in a “1st world” country, want to die of a complex-yet-treatable, virtually curable disease, while millions of people in developing countries are slowly dying of malnutrition and unsafe drinking water and diarrhoea for fuck sake, then I fucking hope you do so.

To be perfectly blunt, I don’t give a good goddamn that you have blood in your urine, and a BP high enough to cause a stroke, and a mass in your bladder. Do you wanna guess what that mass is? My money’s on cancer! Congratulations, genius–by “leaving your health in God’s hands” you have effectively killed yourself! Do you feel better, now? Do you feel that you, and not some meddling doctor, got to make all the decisions about your (lack of) treatment? Do you feel good and pious? Are you pleased that your wife and daughter are going to spend the next months or years EITHER giving you spongebaths, and wheeling you around when you get to weak to walk, and slipping oral narcotics under your tongue as you grunt and writhe in pain, OR mourning you and blaming God for your death and depressing the shit out of everyone around them as they relentlessly pine for you? Are you glad your grandkids won’t really remember you, in 10 years time? Does all of that make you happy?

If not–then WHY THE FUCK DID YOU DO IT?

At the risk of boring my potential audience, I’m going to repeat again–I will not be wasting my prayers on this man. I *do* believe in the power of prayer, positive thinking, good vibes, whatever you want to call it, so I *will* pray for his family (mostly that they’re not emotionally destroyed by his stupidity and carelessness and lack of respect for his own life/the lives of his loved ones). I’ll pray that they come through this alright, and since they’re fundamentalist Christians, I’ll pray for God to send his Holy Spirit to comfort them, and to be with them in their time of loss; and I’ll mean every word. Even if my beliefs don’t match up with someone else’s, I can hope that their beliefs are right enough to provide them with some help and comfort; and I will give as much of those things as I can, which includes leaving a post on a Facebook Wall saying, “I’ll be praying; good luck”. I *will* pray. I *do* wish his family luck.

However, I will leave the man in question out of my heaven-bound petitions, because if I say one fucking sentence about him, it’ll probably be a request for God to just fucking kill him now and spare his family the hassle of looking after his selfish, narcissistic ass.