Sunday, May 25, 2014

With "Friends" Like These, Who Needs Enemies?

Having an N parent makes it much more likely that you'll choose friends such as the one to whom I sent this message--after she started sending messages and friend requests to my children when she couldn't access me through Facebook anymore.  When my daughter admitted that she really didn't remember her and asked her to stop sending messages, she started her shit-slinging.  I rejoined and sent her the following:

Daughter 2 told me you were trying to get in touch with me since I had stopped doing Facebook a few months ago. I go back and forth between participating and not, which bugs the hell out of my friends.

Anyway, I have to say I was quite surprised to find that you were still so interested in talking to me, especially after I read your rather spurious description of my life history, and it had me wondering if you had me confused with someone else. If you did indeed feel that you were describing me accurately, then you were obviously not ever my friend, or else you would have had your story straight. Besides, what "stable" adult writes awful things about someone to that person’s own child? Maybe, and just maybe, you’re not so stable? How many different psychiatric medications have you been on in the last ten years? The last twenty? Does your therapist know about your Facebook activities?

All three of my girls know my history, good and bad, so if you were attempting to give D2 some dirt on me so that she would see me as you do, then you failed. Besides, you made yourself look like a total nutcase in the process. I admit that I had a good time sharing that message thread with a few friends of mine (one of whom is a therapist), and they laughed and said I should have moved away years before, and given my history of abuse by my adoptive mother, it’s not surprising that I would have chosen to befriend a person so toxic. [I did make up the part about sharing the messages, but I wanted to inflict a sweet, sweet sucker punch.]

I also found it difficult to believe that you were so interested in maintaining any sort of genuine friendship with me because even when I lived 10 minutes away from you, not once did you offer any sort of support or help when I was in school full-time, working part-time, and taking care of three children aged 4 and under all by myself. What you did do was criticize me when I stopped nursing D3 at 9 months, ask me if I had AIDS when I lost all of my pregnancy weight and more, and use every opportunity to compare your children to mine.

I could not share any milestones or good news with you because you took it as an affront and acted as though a child of mine couldn’t possibly accomplish anything because of having me as a mother instead of you. When I questioned your actions, particularly when you informed the dance instructor that I was withdrawing the girls from ballet—when I had not even told her myself—you got mad at me and said I “didn’t clarify” that I didn’t want you saying anything. What I should have said was “mind your own fucking business.” And you still told [her husband] to tell me to call you. You had my number. But every time I saw him at work, I had to hear from him that you really wanted to talk to me. Uh, hello? Phone? [Narc ex-friend]? Have you two met?

So I moved to [my state] and forgot all about you? And you looked for me on Facebook every week? You do realize I’ve lived here for 8 years now. That’s a lot of time searching for an alleged friend who sleeps around, lives off the government, did nothing with her life, had affairs, ruined families, and ran off my adoptive mother. I hate to say it, but you have really low standards for your friends. So your other ones must be rapists, child molesters, arsonists, identity thieves, and puppy-killers. Aren’t you lucky. I realize now that it was silly of me to send you a friend request, thinking that perhaps you had gotten older and wiser and had perhaps mellowed a bit. I also saw no harm in having you as a Facebook friend who had no access to any contact information for me. I just never would have thought you would send friend requests to my children when you couldn’t contact me through Facebook anymore.

And no, I didn’t forget about you, as you said. I started doing Facebook and looked you up. But what did I get in return? Someone who crawled through every bit of data on my profile like some stalker, and then started arguing with me through comments on one of my photos. And then deleted her comments afterward. Who does that? Oh, right. That would be you.

I see nothing wrong with a mother telling others about her children’s lives and accomplishments. But I do find it alarming when she has nothing to say about herself and what’s going on in her own life, separate from her children. I had to explain to all three of mine who you and your children were, and all they remembered was “the bathtub,” and that was probably because I showed them the photo of them being hosed off after getting filthy during a play date. You did watch them for me once, which I appreciated, but even then you tried to get out of it. And it was only two of them because it was the year before D3 was even born.

And why would you not have any photos of yourself on your profile? Are you ashamed of how you look? If you had any real sense of yourself or genuine satisfaction with your life, you wouldn’t be so venomous in your description of what you think mine is. I wondered why you would think I “slept around” and “had affairs,” but then I thought that perhaps you have different standards from me, which is fine, but one sexual partner after a divorce is filed hardly counts as sleeping around. And as far as having affairs, I never did. I’m not sure whose families I ruined by the affairs I never had, so that doesn’t make any sense. I also didn’t get married right out of high school. And I didn’t get pregnant just to live off the government. I do remember you encouraging me to sign up for WIC and food stamps, even though I had no interest in it. I did get Medicaid while I was pregnant with the first two, in addition to the medical insurance, so I guess you have me there. But I’d hardly call that living off the government. And even if I did “live off the government,” what business is it of yours? It’s not like you’ve been working and paying taxes to support me.  

I am proud of my daughter for standing up to you. I see that I have instilled in her the ability to defend herself against an emotional vampire, which is something I myself didn’t learn how to do until just recently. Your standards for “manners” are obviously different from mine, but I have never been one to believe (or teach) that children should be subservient to adults who are bitter, spiteful, and dead wrong. Given your description of me, your treatment of me in the past, and your general attitude, I can see that you are highly threatened by anyone who stands up to you. The people in your life must find it difficult to have more than the most superficial relationship with you, or they know to kiss your ass and to walk on eggshells to keep from setting you off.

But you’re not my problem, and I don’t have to deal with you (or talk to you for that matter), so it’s no skin off my nose, as they say. I would say that I wish you the best, but I honestly just wish that you don’t drive anyone to suicide or addiction, specifically your daughters.


And she responded with the following, and then blocked me.  Saved me the trouble!

 You have serious problems. I'm glad you are not in my life you are a narcissists - as us D2.

Oh no! How will I ever go on?