Bitch on the Blog

August 25, 2014


Filed under: Despair,Ethics,Family,Human condition — bitchontheblog @ 17:13
Tags: ,

Sweethearts, I need your help, comfort, words of wisdom. I mean it.

I am five minutes, a stone throw away throwing a blast at someone’s life. I won’t do it. But am  sorely tempted as that person destroyed several years of my happiness. Maliciously. Vindictively. With not a shred of regret, an apology. The  reason I am not going to repay in kind are twofold. Firstly because once upon a time I loved that person, secondly because I’d never forgive myself if I stooped to her level.

And yet, and yet. If I could wipe that self satisfied smile off her face for five minutes, make her feel – for just five minutes – the utter misery and humiliation she put me through. I won’t. But I wish I would. Still, unfair fight. I suppose. As she has always maintained: She wouldn’t wish to cross swords with me. Which is, no doubt, why she stuck the knife into my back. With repercussions her imagination does not stretch to.

In the aftermath of that disaster I do empathize with those who seek revenge. Yet, what’s the point? What’s the fucking point? What, other than a short lived moment of satisfaction, do you get out of paying back in kind? Nothing. That’s what. Or more despair. I keep reminding myself: The damage is done, there is no rewinding of clocks and revenge will not bring back what once was.

Devastated, and disgusted, yours,




  1. What about calmly sharing how you feel without anger

    Comment by John going gently — August 25, 2014 @ 20:26 | Reply

    • “Calmly sharing” with whom, John? You can’t share anything with anyone who refuses to talk to you.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 25, 2014 @ 20:47 | Reply

  2. From the post and the comment above, I gather that you are not on talking terms with her anyway. So, firstly she is out of your life already but it is galling for you to think that she does not know how much you loathe her. Secondly, you would be delighted if you could let her know how much you loathe her and also do something like what she did to you as payback. This is an emotion that I can relate to and you know about my own battles with someone like that in my life. My final relief came only after his death but before that I was able to reconcile myself to his existence and his blissful ignorance of my own feelings by Vipassana.. There is nothing that ordinary people can do in this situation. The only guaranteed method I know to drop this negative obsession is deep meditation under the guidance of a trained teacher. That helps to bring the emotions up from deep within, allow it to exist and pass away a few times so that it loses its potency. There are centers in the UK where you can learn.

    Comment by rummuser — August 26, 2014 @ 01:17 | Reply

    • How very interesting, Ramana. I don’t know how much you believe in fate: For the last hour or so I wrote a reply to you – epic in its length, giving background and explanation to pad out the “story”, an outpouring in an effort to make you understand. As I was pressing return to start yet another paragraph I must have caught the wrong button. My reply has gone. Evaporated. That to me is fate. A good fairy standing over me – saving me from myself. Not for the first time. Bringing me to my senses as it were.

      To keep it brief before my next good fairy intervenes: I do not “loathe” the person in question. If I did it’d be easy to forget, leave it be. I love her. Have done so from the moment she was born. Also, contrary to your assumption, she knows the grief her action and non-communication have caused me. Everyone knows. Causing its own rifts among several players. Which is why she keeps shtumm. She is one of those people who thinks that if she doesn’t acknowledge something it either doesn’t exist or it’ll go away on its own accord.

      I don’t do “payback” as you call it. Revenge never ever achieves anything. It doesn’t turn the clock back. It doesn’t take away the hurt. All it does is soiling yourself. And I’d never ever do that. Why would I wish to heap misery on top of my own? The person in question has recently taken a step which I dearly hope she won’t regret. Yes, that much I love her. People like her are a little lost in the world they stage manage. I am not a big sister for nothing. The hand is there. But you can’t force anyone to take it.

      How does the poet say: A damaged rope can be spliced (repaired). It is once more serviceable but its broken nevertheless. Maybe we’ll meet again. But you won’t find me where you left me. Rain does not return to the sky. When the wound stops hurting, the scar remains.

      Thank you for your well meant advice, Ramana.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 26, 2014 @ 05:19 | Reply

      • One of the hardest lessons in life is letting go. Weather its guilt, anger, love, loss, ect. Change is never easy, you fight to hold on and you fight to let go…

        Comment by rummuser — August 26, 2014 @ 13:03 | Reply

        • How many psychologists/gurus/meditation teachers does it take to change a light bulb?

          Only one, but the light bulb has to really want to change.

          Comment by cheerfulmonk — August 26, 2014 @ 19:07 | Reply

  3. Dear U. it is my personal preference to ‘get even’ rather than to get angry. Revenge is a dish best eaten cold, and is all the sweeter when it’s savoured. maybe a long time later.
    Don’t allow anyone to hurt you. As we get older and wiser, we learn to shrug off unpleasantnesses.
    Still, looking forward to getting even, not a bad feeling . . . . .

    Comment by Friko — August 26, 2014 @ 20:40 | Reply

    • Friko, thanks for making me smile. Yes, I gather you are the type who likes to get even. Which is why – even if it were in my nature which it isn’t – I’d never double cross you.

      As to your assertion “don’t allow anyone to hurt you”. One may think things through, come to logical conclusions. And what do you know: Emotion takes over. Grief (in this case for the living). If I could have flicked a switch over three long years of tears and searching the depths of my own heart I would have done. As it is – the last two years I am not crying any longer. I am assimilating the biggest disaster of my life. I still sit in the dark, and have to acknowledge that one of the most important people in my life destroyed our relationship on a whim. ON A WHIM, Friko! How crazy is that? It gave her her fifteen minute limelight in the centre of attention she always so craves. But at what cost to her – personally? With not even a shred of her thoughts for anyone else.

      As an aside: She has done it again. Leaving a trail of devastation. This time leaving her more immediate family to cope with her debris. I wouldn’t say she is necessarily on a path to self destruction – but there is something there, a momentum propelling her … My parents’ hair stands on end. Not for the first time since she was born.

      What I find so terribly sad that whilst I still care for her deeply it’s all beyond repair. There will be no going back. Sure, I’ll always be there and here for her should she need me. But she broke a code, a bond which we established in our childhood. And she is not able to acknowledge that by throwing the toy out of her pram she smashed it. We could have glued it together. Now? She let so much time pass. Some people refuse themselves. Even if they shoot themselves into the foot at the same time. Then limp and point the finger at the person they meant to shoot. If it weren’t so sad I’d smile. Actually, I am smiling.

      Other than that, Friko: I could do with sitting in your garden and someone telling me how it really is.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 27, 2014 @ 12:16 | Reply

  4. “She is one of those people who thinks that if she doesn’t acknowledge something it either doesn’t exist or it’ll go away on its own accord.”

    So if you learn to let it go she will have been right.

    Comment by cheerfulmonk — August 26, 2014 @ 21:55 | Reply

    • On the surface your logic is beguiling, Jean. Unfortunately, what she did she did. There is no dispute over that. In fact several people who have no allegiances to either of us called her deed verging on the criminal. Think Hitchcock. Messing with someone’s brain.

      Neither will it “go away on its own accord”. We may decide to overlook a white elephant in the room but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t take up an awful lot of space which could be better employed.

      So, at best – following your reasoning – we play ‘pretend’. We could have played ‘pretend’ forever if only she’d taken advantage of my early attempts at salvaging our relationship, the one she wilfully destroyed.

      And, no doubt, she’d be the first to agree with your last sentence, namely that if I let go “she will have been right”. Being ‘right’ is very important to her. Unfortunately being right is, often, a valueless currency.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 27, 2014 @ 12:16 | Reply

  5. i am so sorry you have been so hurt!
    you are right to take the high road, revenge doesn’t achieve a single thing and the satisfaction is short lived as well as not all that satisfying.
    love is always the answer. it might be the love that seeks reconciliation or it might be the kind of love where you silently wishes her the best and then move on, taking care of yourself. the grief will linger it will soften
    hugs to you

    Comment by kylie — August 26, 2014 @ 22:37 | Reply

    • Thank you, Kylie. Yes, you are right … “The grief will linger” but, as you say, it does soften. For three years I was on my knees daily, followed by two years when, with a lot of help from friends, family and my doctor (talking – no pills), I don’t think about it that much any longer.

      I do go on about the “living dead” in the wake of my sister’s indiscretion. I skipped through life, mostly happy, and sometimes wonder what purpose that massive kick in my shin actually serves. At the time I was going through enough worry as it were (nothing existential, only financially which does keep you awake at night and supplies you with ample panic attacks). Let’s just say: There was a molehill and then someone piled so much shit on top that I nearly cracked under the pressure. Or as wife of father-of-son said, ca December 2009: “If I were you I’d kill myself”. Oh, Kylie, you have to laugh. I did. No one gets rid of me that easily. But it takes grit. By which I don’t mean true grit but milling sand between your teeth till your dentist asks you whether anything is troubling you since “you clearly grind your teeth at night”. He kindly offered me a plastic tooth guard. Which I took as not to disappoint him but never employed. When the shit hits the fan you need to stay alert. Notwithstanding that sleep deprivation apparently mimics signs of being drunk. Honestly, you couldn’t make it up if you tried. To think I meandered through life before it pulled me up on the boot straps I don’t wear.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 27, 2014 @ 12:16 | Reply

  6. I agree, seeking revenge is futile. It can alienate other people, you can end up feeling guilty, and it probably won’t change the person’s behaviour. It can backfire in all sorts of ways. Best just to remind yourself that you treat other people a lot better than they do.

    Comment by nick — August 27, 2014 @ 11:02 | Reply

    • You are comparing a mild breeze on a summer’s day with a tsunami, Nick.

      What happened there is off the Richter Scale. And so very interesting how someone who knows you so very well (in this case my sister) will take aim knowing perfectly well that I won’t return fire. At least not in kind.

      As to your last sentence, Nick: Life, to me, is not a competition. The fact that I may, and bloody well hope so, “treat other people a lot better than they do” is no comfort. No comfort whatsoever.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 27, 2014 @ 12:29 | Reply

  7. Double ouch. What to say? You’ve been given some great advice already. As you know, I follow the path of forgiveness, but that is neither an easy path or one that always leads one to where one feels is best for her/him.

    I can tell you that you aren’t alone in struggling with anger and resentment from feeling wounded by someone close to you. I’ll spare you the details (this is about you, not me), but my sister recently went off the rails and betrayed in the most hurtful of ways. I’m trying to remember that she believed her intentions were good–it was her execution (and I chose that word carefully) that sucked big time. The closeness and trust we shared is gone. I don’t if I’ll ever find it, or even if I’ll ever want to.

    I know one thing for sure, life is about change. Everything changes. We can find that fact terrifying or comforting, depending on what is about to change or what has changed. But all this really is is life playing out and us not being able to do a single thing to orchestrate the way it happens.

    Comment by Lorna's Voice — August 27, 2014 @ 17:37 | Reply

    • To take it from the top, Lorna. “Forgiveness” does come easy to me. So easy that sometimes people think there was/is nothing to forgive. Wrong correlation. To forgive easily appears to amount to one of my character defects. No one takes you and your grievance seriously.

      “Anger”, “Resentment”. I don’t know. Yes, there were moments I was angry. Now? You know, Lorna, when the moment comes you only raise your shoulders in resignation over someone’s continued folly is a sad moment indeed. Once you sobbed, now you barely manage a sigh.

      Your and my sister should get together and compare notes. Next time someone tells me that their “intentions were good” I shall bunker down and wait till their interest takes a diversion. “Execution”, Lorna? Nice one. Or as my sister-in-law said when the whole caboodle started: “We [that’s my brother and her] thought we’d walked into the wrong movie.”

      You mention “closeness” and “trust”. Yes, it is gone. Once upon a time I’d have had no hesitation to take my sister to a desert island. Now? Not on my life. I’d have to have eyes in the back of my head – to make sure. Closeness? Difficult. I still feel close to her. But we are not close any longer. On top of which to think that – a few months ago – she broke up her whole immediate family, leaving a devoted husband and grieving children (albeit most of them more or less grown up) and it’s all being related to me by either her husband, my niece and nephews and my poor poor mother. Not a word from her. Nothing.

      You know what’s so idiotic? People always said what a great big sister I was/am. Renee remarked on it in a recent comment. What GREAT sister? One who, decades down the line, can’t keep it all together? Mostly I feel for my mother. She is a family person through and through. Harmony is everything to her. With the best will in the world I cannot find the piano tuner for this family to ever chime again.

      You say “Life is about change”. No doubt. And we should all be flexible enough to bend with the winds of change. Yet, some things I thought to be cast in stone. Immutable. The rock we cast our roots in.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — August 28, 2014 @ 03:55 | Reply

  8. “And yet, and yet. If I could wipe that self satisfied smile off her face for five minutes, make her feel – for just five minutes – the utter misery and humiliation she put me through. I won’t.”

    I keep thinking of those sentences and wonder if you’re deluding yourself. If she’s as self-centered as you say, it’s possible anything you would do wouldn’t touch her, only make you feel more miserable and her feel more smug.

    Comment by cheerfulmonk — August 29, 2014 @ 23:34 | Reply

    • Sometimes things break and cannot be fixed. She is probably missing you as bad as you miss her… It doesn’t help to think of vilains heroes, I think.

      Comment by Liz — August 31, 2014 @ 14:59 | Reply

RSS feed for comments on this post. TrackBack URI

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Blog at

%d bloggers like this: