The Last of the Mean Girl...Forever

This is the LAST time that I will talk about this problem. I refuse to waste another line of print, or another word on this waste of space person, or this waste of my time problem. But, because it’s disrupting my life, even more than ever, I feel I need to say the “end” of it, in this way. This is not what my blog is for. It is not for drama, and it is not for little girl antics brought on by bitchy women who stopped aging at nine. It’s for me, and it’s for laughter. It’s for sick people to find something. It’s for so many other things. The last thing it’s for is to draw attention to the vilest of humans.

With that said: some people think they are clever when they post anonymous comments. Some people are stupid. Some people don’t realize that I can choose what to publish and what not to. Some people don’t realize that I can choose how I want to publish it as well. These same “some people” would be the same mean bully that has been nasty to me for the past two years, off and on.

So, enjoy that here’s your “anonymous” comment that is DIRECTLY from the bully (italics are from me):

I don't know you, found your blog purely by coincidence (except that you didn’t because I can see where comments are from).  

But I must say, I think this post is a bit ironic. You talk about how this woman is and has been such a bully to you, but look at what you are saying about her (behind her back?).

The definition of BEHIND someone’s back is not a public blog, but anyway, I digress. And, since you found out about it, it’s pretty obvious that you are on the up-and-up on my goings on, isn’t it; and thus, it's not behind your back. Plus, since you are clearly finding a way to keep yourself involved in knowing what's going on in my life; you obviously care to keep going, and paying attention, which makes it clear you are the one continuing a conversation behind MY back, and just looking for fodder, by visiting my blog.

On top of that, I feel you seriously need some help of some kind. If just the sight of a person makes you feel like running and crying for hours, maybe it's you you need to be looking at instead of pointing the finger at her. Clearly, you have issues that you need to work out.

Let’s talk about this for a moment because yeah, I wasn’t clear enough about the crying. I cried for you, but I cried for a lot of reasons. Being sick is complicated. It comes with highs and lows. It comes with swings in depression. It comes with a lot of things. You’d have fucking known that if you didn’t abandon me two years ago, been a decent friend, talked to me even once; but hey, who am I to judge? Oh yeah. I’m the one who was thrown to the curb as a friend.

So yeah, I cried. But, I also cried because I was in a low last week. I also cried because I had to use my cane and it makes me feel like shit when I have to use my cane in public. I also cried because of about twenty reasons that you don't get to know about because you aren't a friend anymore, and you don't deserve to. You were the icing on the cake that day, my former-friend. And not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve been in therapy for sometime to deal with the idea of chronic illness, and its effects on my permanent life.

P.S. we’ve talked about people like you, and you specifically; not to fear, the therapist thinks you are a fuck-wit who has serious issues.

You also make a lot of rushes to judgement (learn to spell) when it seem(s) like you haven't even talked to this lady about ANY of it

This is my FAVORITE part, because I’d love to know what you’d say if I’d have called you and asked you what you meant by rolling your eyes at me? What DID you mean by that? What did you also mean by forgetting to call me for a year? Two years? What DID you mean? What? I’m asking you now. I’ll wait by the phone for your answer. Or, for another "anonymous" comment.

This is so much crazy right here. Wow... just wow.

You’re right. It is. You’re a loon.

I pray for you to find help emotionally and pray you heal from the hurt you feel. And by the way, I really am going to pray for you. How strange someone would actually doubt or question another persons silent prayers...

Hey, I calls them likes I sees them. While you are praying, ask God for lots of other things for you, namely a heart. Wait, that's the Wizard. I get confused.

And, with that, I will waste not another written word on this ridiculous problem. You are a bitch. Will never be more than a bitch. And, I’m sorry that I ever met you. If you ever have enough sense to grow up, I will forgive you, because I know better. Until then, stay away from me, stay away from my kid, and stay away from my family.

I want you to know one more thing--that the last time you were at MY house, after you left, when my husband and I were cleaning up, I spent the night asking my husband the following questions:

Did I listen more than I talked this time? Did I laugh too loud? I tried really hard to listen more. Did I interrupt too much? Did I? I want you to know those things about me, because I want you to know, that when you stood in my front door, and pretended to be busy for the next six months, then walked away, probably to talk behind MY back, to your husband, half the way home, I spent the next few hours agonizing about my continuous self-improvement, about how to be a better friend. Not just for you, for myself. For everyone. For anyone. Things I always do. But you went home and were "busy" for six months, then invited us to your home, where you visibly shunned me, rolled your eyes every time I spoke, and then didn't speak to me again.

So, the next time you think about defending yourself, claiming innocent, or imagining that you've been on your knees, silently praying for your friend, I want you to remember that you didn't even think of the person, the individual you've been badmouthing, and then dropped. I'm not just someone who, apparently annoys you, and that now you've got a beef with, I'm a real person. I'm an individual just like you. I'm not just the list of "things" you've created in your mind; I'm a real, live person, with complex and real emotions. Just. Like. You.

-Signing off on you.

P.S. I wish that nothing like this ever happens to you. Nor, to your daughter. No matter how horrid you’ve been to me, I don’t wish it on any of you. Ever. And I've YET to get actually personal. I've never said your name, nor any of the actual nasty things I want to say. And, I never will. You can go on with the knowledge that you are a mystery bully. I've never even told anyone I know that it's you. You are the one who's done that. I've never said a specific, bad word, about you, with your name attached. Ever.