Last night, at 22.16 exactly, I blocked a number on my iPhone. I didn’t do it out of anger or some other equally strong emotion, but simply because there was no other way. I had been told to f**k off. One too many times. I could almost feel the heat of this person’s rage coming through the phone, in waves that threatened to engulf me.
There is something quite frightening about such anger being directed at you when you’ve done nothing to deserve it.
There is something bewildering about such rage being directed at you when you’ve given the person in question so much of your time and energy, when you’ve given them chances after chances and they keep blowing it.
If anybody should have been raging and swearing yesterday, it should have been me. I gave so much, they took, they showed no gratitude, no respect, they lied, stonewalled, they twisted things — and when confronted, refused to admit to having done anything wrong, flew into a wild rage and accused me of all the things they’re guilty of themselves. Well, I’d been there before, I knew there was no choice but to block – no contact is the only way.
I admit to being naive, conceited even – I thought I could handle the narcissist this time around. I was wrong.
This post is going to fuel the rage – without a doubt, there will be retribution, a social media purge added to my name being tainted even further but…I was never a coward and this is my blog, a “diary” of sorts – nobody is going to dictate what appears here, no fucking way.