Hurting people hurt people. They do this to focus their attention elsewhere so that they don’t have to deal with the real pain of their situation. It’s like people who physically cut themselves. While these “cutters” don’t actually draw blood, their “cuts” come in the form of attacking others.
However, knowing this information beforehand only makes it slightly easier to tolerate their toxic behavior. I still wonder:
- Why can’t they get themselves together?
- How do they feel once the temporary high of cutting subsides?
It is hard not to respond in a similar fashion, yet I know that doing so won’t get me very far. Plus cuts do leave scars! I can’t begin to count the number of times I have wanted to slice and dice Eliza right back with a machete the length of Texas. I have envisioned myself filleting her like a piece of meat at Benihana’s! And she’s not the only one in queue for those knife tricks!
Fantasies aside, I have to remind myself that I don’t want to do anything to add to her already troubled state. I breathe easier that way!
*For therapeutic purposes only.
I must say that you never cease to amaze me; but not in an awe-inspiring way. You are a person without a soul. You only care for yourself with little regard for the people you maim along the way—including your little ones. I gave you more credit than you deserved. I really wanted you to be a decent person underneath your facade of craziness. I know you had a rough life, but you need to get over it; so has half of America. And it does not give you permission to treat others so callously. Neither does it permit you to make bad choices and punish others as a result of your foolishness and mayhem.
You know, I used to think you loved your boys. Now I’m not so sure. I believe you love the idea of possessing them more. They have been your golden tickets for so long that it must really anger you that you can no longer dangle them in my husband’s face. I have to wonder if they still hold value for you? You simply refused to share them with him. You have taken something away from them that can never be replaced. They will never be able to make up for the time they missed with their father in this lifetime. Having two loving parents is a right and not a privilege. You sacrificed your beloved boys to spite us. I really pity you. For how will you answer those hard questions that I am sure will be directed your way once the boys see you for what you are? You can’t.
You did not want us to uproot the seeds of deceit you so carefully and laboriously planted. But it was our actions that spoke volumes because nothing we ever could have said would have made them think differently. And in your mind the fact that the boys love me is the worst crime of all. This is the only reason that you could possibly harbor such unwarranted resentment. Eliza, did you think because you had them removed from my home that you could remove me from their hearts and minds?
Life for you must be a miserable existence. Eliza, you are not happy and therefore you want everyone else to suffer in your wake. You don’t know love, serenity, joy, acceptance, or forgiveness. Your cup runneth over with hatefulness. I know you must be tired because being negative requires a lot of energy. I tried to provide refreshment for your soul. I offered you sisterhood, agape love, grace, patience, and kindness. But because you know nothing of these things, it merely served to heighten your suspicion and animosity. You thought about what you would have done had the shoe been on the other foot and let your paranoia get the best of you. Guess what Eliza? I am not like you nor will I ever be.
You want me to hate you so that you may justify your behavior toward me. Believe it or not, I pray that God heal your heart because hurting people hurt people. If I had been imprisoned I know you would have delighted in my misfortune. Your highs come from the lows of others, while my high comes from uplifting the low. It doesn’t matter that I am now suffering because it wasn’t inflicted by you nor was it by my design. It seems that you won’t rest until I am broken.
But please know that you cannot break me. Your words have no sting because they contain no truth. Eliza you are a sad, lost puppy running around chasing its tail to garner attention. You are a drooping flower lacking light and nourishment. I will never belittle myself by sparring with your undeveloped mind. It is equivalent to trying to reason with an infant. And actually I don’t have any desire to do so. I do not want your poisonous essence to envelope me. I truly hope I never have to encounter you again. You make me very sad. All along you have inaccurately labeled me as your worst enemy when in reality, your worst enemy happens to be you.