When I was a little girl, I had a solid group of friends. One day I got tonsillitis and had a week off of school. When I arrived back, my friends of many years had become my bullies!!, it seemed, whilst away, they decided they didn’t like me anymore. But it wasn’t clear cut because we ‘made up’ and then I became a puppet for them, I was mentally tortured and also loved and cherished, through the guise of friendship, whilst the bullying continued. And it’s fair to say this definitely damaged my perception of what ‘friends’ are likely to do to you in life!..This day began several years of torment, all ‘head-lined’ by the CHILD spoken of below. Now if you were a parent and you inflicted the treatment of a school bully on your child, you would be defined as an abuser. However, child to child abuse has the slightly more palatable term ‘bullying’ applied to it. The ringleader I wrote of here, contacted me on Facebook (nicely) and sent me on a painful journey of rants and anger and tears…and this followed. She was just a child and her remorse was apparent and true, she was and is truly sorry and… I’m thankful to say that after some more ‘growing’, I realised that whilst our relationship was complex and painful, it was also profoundly close, she was and is still my best friend in many ways and she was a CHILD! Once the little girl in me said what she needed to, forgiveness came. And the anger was just for me all along anyway; I find that personally, any LONG lasting anger is normally self-derived. I’ve truly let go, and I chose to ask for her back in my life, because I wanted to…we reminisce now about the good stuff, I choose now!!! It feels good but not in a power filled way, just a peace filled one. But here’s who I was that day a few years ago, when I saw her name in my inbox.
All those years have passed since then, I hear from you and it’s like yesterday again, The rawness, the pain, fresh as a daisy, Complexes back, though my memory’s hazy,
Sensitive kids and immature feelings, Messed up bullies, jibing and jeering, That little girl just wishing for death, The memory of me then, still crushing my chest,
Remembering everything yet also nothing, The shame is back and it’s still got me blushing, 29 years, still, I felt her control me, And just when I thought that no-one owned me,
Underneath it all, I still bloody love her, How can that be when she was my abuser? Our sense of conscience and duty so different, Huge deals for me, whilst she remained flippant,
Adoration and spitting hatred, Festering all these years, debated, Torture and taunting, laughs and highs, Which extreme she chose, led by the viewers eyes?
Adult or child, the pains the same, The confusion of who is really to blame, How can my memories define how it was? If I still can’t shift the feeling of love,
When do we develop the sufficient capacity? To realise we are responsible for tragedy? Did she know? Was it really her fault? I’ve offloaded my rage but I’ve crushed her with guilt,
The anger I think its more for me, For being so weak when I needed to leave, Guilt induced by the fear that I’m wrong, That somehow my perception is not what went on,
Am I angry cos I think that I should be? Am I angry cos I know that I can’t be? And if the anger is not really real, Do recollections belie the real deal?
It’s all about reaction anyway, But the reality of it, gets lost by the day, Derived from the panic that my actions were wrong, The guilt that I had no right to be strong,
The guilt that I had no right to upset you, In case it’s again my fault that I’m blue, Is it my problem that it cut so deep? Disproportionate reactions, to events not so steep,
But forget what’s right, what’s wrong, what’s ‘normal’, Cos compared to the pain they’re all pretty trivial, I’ve decided I did have the right to unload, In spite of the impact, though I’ve made her low,
My best friend and my most frightening enemy, My right arm, and the disease that ate me, The manifestation of two twisted minds, Jealousy and insecurity rendered us blind,
My heart still aches for the friendship I lost, Whilst my mind reels back, at the extent of the cost, Two kindred spirits in so many ways, Parted and divided by events of old days,
A knife in my heart, a piece of my soul, A story of two girls, playing brave and bold, Enveloped in sadness as once again I lose you, Goodbye my best friend and my best enemy too.