I am an introvert. Introverts really aren’t like other people. We are the people on the fringe, who sit back and watch others, always trying to figure out where we fit in. It’s never easy. For me, reaching out is the hardest thing I will ever do. Sustaining that connection is even more difficult. Introverts -in extreme cases- look at ourselves and there’s always that invisible yardstick, the one we use to measure ourselves against the more outgoing folks and all too often come up short.
We are the ones who find it almost overwhelming to speak up at all because we have found our opinions don’t count and/or there have been too many losses for too many years, too many instances of being pissed on or passed over by those who were willing to play the game at any cost.
We don’t play games. We have seen what happens to those who are left bleeding in the wake of people who don’t care who they hurt. We have no use for the smartasses, power-trippers and bloated egos of the world.
Now imagine what happens when it all becomes too much. Imagine not believing in yourself. Imagine having your hand slapped when you finally do become brave enough to reach out. Imagine having your gifts thrown back in your face. Imagine only being worth noticing when you make someone else look good. Imagine being used.
Imagine finally making some small connection and building upon it, looking forward to finally being able to meet someone in person. Imagine looking forward to that meeting like a kid anticipating Christmas. Imagine it turning out to be a complete disaster when they see how you really have to live. Imagine both yourself and your home being disrespected. Imagine what a hideous disappointment it is to have that same person retaliate viciously when you have the nerve to tell them you never want to hear from them again. I don’t make such decisions lightly…I never have. And no, I’m not exaggerating. The only place that belongs is in fiction. FYI…I ain’t bi. Not for anyone, so don’t flatter yourself by insinuating I wasn’t friendly enough. So don’t go trying to twist that around to make it look like I’m a phobe. People who really know me know better.
Imagine having your reputation shredded and everything you’ve struggled to build almost completely wiped out because people loved drama and gossip more than anything else.
Imagine counting down the days until you can be back online and splurging on a year’s membership on DA to celebrate. Imagine having someone lying in wait for the chance to cut your throat when you finally get here.
Bullying- Especially cyber bullying is ugly. It may take awhile to get back on our feet, but not all victims of it are going to sit down and shut up or crawl away to hide and let you get away with it. My husband and I both grew up being bullied. NO MORE.
Am I angry? You better believe it. I may be dirt poor and I may not have much to offer, but I’ll be damned if anyone has the right to try and ostracize me for not taking their crap lying down. Do you hear me, Vancouver? You’ve been played. The only objection I ever had to you was your vile temper, and I sincerely hope you’ve learned something from all this. Discount artwork ends up costing a hell of a lot more than its worth, doesn’t it? A word of advice: sit up and pay attention to your friend across the border. That one will never steer you wrong- simply because blowing sunshine up your backside isn’t the way they roll. Oh…and try being wrong about something every now and then. It isn’t fatal. Nor is your jaw going to break or your tongue going to fall out if you apologize to people rather than pretending what you did never happened.
I used to admire you, I really did. And then you tried to take away the only refuge I had from the real world. I challenge you to take long, hard look at your conscience. Being someone worth knowing really is a hell of a lot more important than being well known.
I’m working on forgiveness; I really am. I’ll get there. Eventually.
I’ve moved past the point of imagining certain heads on a pike. You’re the karma fairy’s problem now.
My journal, my thoughts. If you don’t want to know what I think, don’t ask me because I won’t piss down your leg and tell you its raining.
Been through all the stages of grief now, I hope. Never make the mistake of thinking a broken heart doesn’t hurt as much as a death of someone you love.
This little phoenix is still sorting through the ashes, trying to find that little thread of something to be thankful for, because that’s who I am. Some days are harder than others, but I have a shining time this past summer to look back upon and that means more than anything. Amidst the rubble, it’s a foundation stone I can use to build anew.
I am thankful for some very special people who made this past year bearable…you know who you are.