Four hundred and sixty-nine days ago I experienced an injury. It was an injury I never would have guessed to be so devastating. It was Christmas time…
I received a figurative a stab in the back. That wouldn’t have been so bad, but the sharp, long blade penetrated through to my heart. My heart. My heart was broken.
I didn’t realize the gravity of my injury at the time, as I was focused on the pettiness, greediness, and disregard that caused this attack upon me. I was more angry than wounded, and I didn’t realize the attack wasn’t about me.
Finally, I felt betrayed. Friends had apparently turned against me at the will (perhaps) of the wicked witch. I heard nothing from those friends throughout my suffering. Did they even know I was suffering? Stabbed in the back, through to the heart?
To those friends I hold no ill will. Saving themselves is about all they could do stay afloat. However, I resent the fact that they were used as pawns to defend the case of the one who attacked me. The stab in the back, thrusting through to my heart.
I didn’t even know how much this witch affected me until much too late. I felt the stab in my back, but not the pierce to my heart. Not for a long while. But other people noticed. Some commented. I tried to make excuses for my behavior, but the depression of a broken heart gave me away. At last…
One day I realized how no one has as much power over me than me. I took a good look at the person who tried to claim power over me and thought about her sad, pathetic behavior. During the epiphany I channeled Glinda, the Good Witch of the North.
“You have no power here. Be gone! Before someone drops a house on you!”
Slowly my wounds are healing. I’m a bit ashamed it took so long, but better late than never. The wicked witch has no more control over me. I’m stronger and better than the bully who contrived lies to crush my spirit.
Don’t let bullies get you down. Don’t believe the lies they tell you. Above all, don’t let anyone or anything get in the way of your path. Kick obstacles away and tread on. Don’t lose a whole year for the likes of a wicked witch.
Auntie B's Wax 
Oh, Sara…I love the way this is written, first of all. That seems important: art through pain and all. Secondly, I’m so sorry you had this burden to work through. You, with the big and good heart! You: kind soul, lover of big water, state fairs and “dive night!” For heaven’s sake! Finally, ‘m so glad that – from the sounds of things – it’s over, or almost over, and you’ve moved past it. What a testament to you to not even bring it up until it was in the past (contrarily, I remind you of my “Dear Harry” post, where I vented it all while right in the thick of it, with tears running down my face, while I named names. Or one name, anyway.). Take care, sweetheart. You don’t deserve to be treated badly.
Cindy, you are the best bloggie friend ever! Your support means so much to me. It’s been a bad year+, and I know I haven’t been the only one suffering. This post displays what was my catapult into the year 2020, which we all know has been a shit show. I’m hoping to start writing more frequently and creating more frequently now that I told the Wicked Witch she has no power over me. Thank you so much for your comment.
There are many aspects of the last three and half years I understand. I get it.
What I didn’t get was the viciousness of the people invested in spreading rumors. People well outside of the mistakes. People that inserted themselves into a situation they imagined.
For a long time the rumormongering, threats, whisper campaigns, and smear campaign took a toll on my psyche. There were long periods where I had debilitating anxiety attacks at the thought of being caught in public.
Sometimes still do.
I don’t know the knife you were stabbed with. I don’t know how it was twisted or by whom. What I do know is that pain, anxiety, loneliness, and fear is 100% real. It isn’t imagined.
When we are rejected by social groups we value, or even by strangers, the part of our brain responsible for registering physical pain lights up like a pinball machine. Emotional pain is still pain.
In the process I learned who my friends are and who matters. It has been an incredibly valuable experience…but I had to dig into the experience.
I’m sorry for the betrayal you experienced, and the pain that remains.
Thank you for your comment. I’m certainly not the first to experience these things, and most definitely won’t be the last. I hope you’ve recovered from your hurt – I’m doing much better by now. Thanks again for your comment, and I wish you all the best.