Magical Truthsaying Bastard Shadesong (shadesong) wrote,
Magical Truthsaying Bastard Shadesong
shadesong

  • Mood:

almost-relief

I have been systematically lied about and to for over a year by someone I trusted.

People believed the lie because this person was the sort who inspired trust in others. It was easier to believe that wacky 'song was unstable, was crying wolf, was borderline-delusional about something than it was to believe that this person was lying to everyone.

This person was lying to everyone.

I have been told, by the person who knows the most about the situation, that I was right. This person has seen all of the communications, seen my doubts and my questions, seen the first person deny and seen me back down, trusting.

And this second person told me that I was right all along.

I was a dirty secret. I was treated by the first person as less than I am, as something worthless, as a used condom, essentially. And through this person's lies, I have been seen by many people as less than I am, as a hysterical unbalanced girl.

I'm not.

I don't cry wolf.

And no, I never told anyone about this. I was silent. Even here, especially here. I didn't even make any private entries about it. The only thing that people saw, people heard, was the lie.

I trusted. And that trust led to me being used. Manipulated at my weakest moments. And the lies about me that spread through the community; this person saving their face by denigrating me, making people believe these things.

And it is actually a relief to know that I was right. I have a tendency to believe that I am worthless... so when I was essentially treated as such, I didn't see how Wrong it was. But the second person, the one who was directly hurt... that person called me. And they told me that I was right. They told me about the lies and apologized for believing them. They saw.

As to what and where and who and why - the people who need to know, know. The rest of you don't need to know. Speculation is forbidden. If you're not on the need-to-know list, trust me, it does not matter to you. It has no import on your life.

Comments are blocked because there's really nothing you can say except *hugs* that wouldn't inadvertently hurt other people.

But yeah, I'm shaking and crying right now, because is wasn't me being histrionic. I was right, and I never gave myself permission to believe that I was. But I was. I was. I'm not that thing.
Subscribe
Comments for this post were disabled by the author