I had a
god moved out and left the world in hell nightmare day at work. Honestly, It started out OK. I was a little apprehensive about going back after last week's shenanigans, but gritted my teeth and showed up.
It was going swimmingly for, oh, about half an hour.
The thing about me is I take my friendships super seriously. I really put one hundred percent into my friends, which is why I choose to have few close friends, as opposed to lots of not-so-close friends or acquaintances. I'm the kind of person who will do just about anything for anyone, and I do it without expecting much back. I do have high expectations of my friends, but no higher than the ones they have of me. And I protect my friends. I stick up for them, and try and stop them from being hurt.
I don't tell them gossip, that i KNOW will hurt them. And if someone talks to me about them, in a derogatory manor, I defend them! I'm not claiming to be a saint, but to the people I care about, I'm fiercely protective.
Its no secret that my body doesn't "do pregnant" all that well. In fact my body pretty much hates "pregnant". Frankly, there isn't much i can do to fix this. I take baby aspirin, and I rest, A LOT. I avoid caffeine and stress, and I try to do a small amount of exercise. But other than that, THERE.IS.NOTHING.I.CAN.DO.
So imagine, my complete and utter shock, and devastation when today, after the week we've just endured, a "friend" came to me and told me that another "friend" accused me of being a hypochondriac.
Yep. That's it. That's the word. Hypochondriac. "a person abnormally concerned about his or her health"
Now, I might be a real dunce here, but do you think, that maybe, after having four babies die. And coming close, twice, to losing this one in 8 short weeks, that I have a reason to worry about my health? To be concerned about what is happening to my body, and to take appropriate steps to lessen my stress levels, to stay well rested and to not carry heavy parcels around?
I could, easily, hurt someone.
I am pissed off. At the very small minded, stupid individual who suggested such a thing, the woman who is so clearly jealous of everything I have, everything that she desperately wants but isn't getting, but also the "friend" who, went out of their way, with a big grin on their face, to tell me, that someone is gossiping about me.
I'm furious with the person, who claiming to care about me, told me something that they knew, would hurt me so deeply, without so much as taking me into another room for privacy. The friend who then spent half the morning trying to convince me not to take it up with anyone "because she might get in trouble for gossiping", and instantly stopped caring about my hurt that she caused, to worry about herself again.
I don't give a flying rats arse if people talk about me. But to accuse me of fabricating my hurts and agonies with pregnancies, is akin to accusing me of lying about the existence of my babies.
Accusing me of that, is unforgivable. And pretending to be my "friend" while you sink that particular knife into my heart, in public, is, in my opinion, worse.