I figured if I didn't write something soon there would be a mutiny in blogland.
It's been about a month since I took this hiatus and it took me until today to figure out what the hell my problem is. It's this. I've been feeling disenchanted. Unable to write about what I really want to write about. Imagine how you'd feel if the thing that had been foremost in your mind was off-limits for your blog. How would you deal with that? How would it make you feel? Disenchanted!!! Right? Right?????
I can't get into any details, but let me just say that my title should give you a tiny clue. No, it's not me who's gone bat-shit crazy, but someone in my vicinity. This psychotic individual did everything in his/her (ooh, it's a he-she? Possibly... never thought of that) Anyhoo... they did everything they could to try and smear my character; using lies, deceit and their sociopathic (Def:
a person, as a psychopathic personality, whose behavior is antisocial and who lacks a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience.)tendencies to do so. Did it work? Of course not. The person is bat-shit crazy and everyone but he/she knows it. Sad actually.
Pitiful, in fact.
And why did this person turn vengeful?
Get this. You're not gonna believe it.
Because I hurt his/her feelings.
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!
Usually, the proper response to having your feelings hurt is to tell the person who hurt them. Either work it out, or no longer be their friend.
If, on the other hand, you're bat-shit crazy, you can instead make up a ton of lies, corner the husband and children in the street and profess those lies as fact, then run your crazy-ass mouth all over the neighborhood trying to garner sympathy because "Justine is so mean."
You could put in complaints to Facebook that your "wildlife photography" is being used as a copyright infringement and also tell Facebook that Justine is stalking you. But then Facebook just looks at your chat history and such and sees that Justine has had almost no contact with you in months. Stalking indeed.
You could then contact blogger and cry copyright infringement there too. But Justine has written proof that she was given permission to use said pictures.
To further your cause of stalking and infringement, you may go into Facebook and blogger and take down every single comment you've ever left so that it looks like you never knew me. Good for you!
I still have copies.
So. When all this came to fruition, did I run from house to house, shouting at the top of my lungs that I'd been done wrong? Did I show proof of each accusation being a lie?
No, I didn't, although I do have proof, and plenty of it.
I'm not quite sure how to definitively prove that I haven't had several affairs while married, but that's neither here nor there. The people who matter know that's not true and that's good enough for me.
All this time I've been seething while taking the high road because I wouldn't allow myself to be heard, except to a token few whom I'm close to. For the most part, it will remain as it has been for over a month because staying quiet, not naming names, is the right thing to do, both legally and morally.
I guess this post doesn't actually fall under the category of "staying quiet" but it does, on the other hand, fall under the category of, "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"
It's hard to fight crazy because it just makes the crazy person more crazy. Of course, ignoring crazy person probably makes them even more crazy.
Which, come to think of it, is kind if fun.
Imagine Nurse Ratched as one of the patients and you'll kind of get an idea about him/her.
This also comes to mind.
Confused yet? I'm sure most of you are. Some know exactly what I'm talking about.
Things here have been nice and calm for about a month now. But how much do you want to bet that said bat-shit crazy person is going to read this and then strike out on another war path against me? I guess that would be okay, being that he/she doesn't have a legal leg to stand on. As long as he/she stays the hell away from my home and my kids it's all good.
End of rant.