What a Tangled Web We Weave
I have not written on this blog in a while. Not that there weren’t some exciting things going on, just had other priorities. By the way, I did finish one children’s book, which is at the illustrator’s now and hopefully will be out in time for Christmas gifts!
Yesterday, however, made me realize that I needed to tell a story – not a lie kind of story – but a story.
A little over a year ago, I was contacted by an old classmate – we reunited, like many have, on Facebook. As we all want to know about the years that separated us, one thing led to another in the discussions. Over a month or so, she began to share her unhappiness in her life, mainly her abusive husband and her desire to find happiness in her life.
I, having been a victim of domestic abuse, felt the need to help. We concocted plan(s). She deviated from the plans immensely at the end – but I still had the final say on some things – like I would not go to her/his home and remove anything. Anything that I hauled would have to be away from the home. And, I told her to bring the bare essentials.
One of the smart things I did do was to not go to their home. The other, was to keep all documentation and photographs!
We got her moved back to Texas, made plans, helped her obtain a job, got her settled in – where in less than a week after getting here – she was on the road heading back to “the abuse”.
Yesterday, out of the blue, her sister contacted me. I was smart enough to have saved all IMs, all emails, all texts, and all notes concerning everything that led up to her coming to Texas and the demise of a friendship.
After almost a full day of emails back and forth, I finally felt vindicated and refreshed. There were very few folks in whom I could talk about this without making it seem that I was fabricating things. The sister knows her. Knows her drama. Knows her motive-operandi. Knows her “oh poor me”. Knows how she controls and manipulates. So, when I was shared the story that they had heard, comparing it to events and things that happened once she got to Texas and shortly after she left, I better understood why certain things happened and where statements had come from.
She had said her dad was dying and she had to get to Freeport to the hospital. I knew from the beginning that was a lie. Freeport no longer has a hospital. She said that she had been abused. Perhaps, but even that doesn’t seem real now. She said her son wasn’t this man’s child and that her husband was abusive to the son. The part about the son not being the father’s – I can almost understand. I wouldn’t want a 20 year old just laying around all day and not working and thinking the world owed him something either. She said she wanted to work. Once she got here, we helped her find a job – which is hard to find in Beaumont. Her second day on the job, she said she was quitting and asked how long she could stay here. I told her at least 6 months and I wanted her to see a counselor. She never wanted to help clean nor cook. She took hours in the bathroom “grooming” her and she didn’t look any different when she came out than when she went in. She told how her mother was crazy. I believe that fruit didn’t fall far from the tree. She told us her father sexually abused her. I do not believe that now. She told us how she was like Cinderella with the stepmother and had to do all the work around the house. I’ve learned over the years, that hard work at a young age teaches us to be better in our adult life.
The next day she went to work, and came home late. She would not come home in the evenings after work – she would ride around in neighborhoods that she should not be in. She left – in a fake “trauma like mindset”. I thoroughly believe it was all-fake.
She went back. And, along the way she told an amazing story to those who would listen. I learned that she reported that I wanted her to get a passport to help run drugs out of Mexico. I wanted her to get a passport so she could go south with me, where I have a home, where I go see my allergy doctor and get my asthma meds. I also was “running guns”. I do own a few guns – several that I purchased from another classmate (one of the one’s she fabricated all this to). I’m smart enough not to even take a spray of pepper spray much less a bullet or a gun into Mexico. My husband also is a murderer, according to her. My husband is a Process chemical engineer with an impeccably clean criminal record.
After comparing notes, the sister and I agree, that she needs help and prayers. I do not hold a grudge. I won’t and I haven’t. It was an expensive lesson to learn, one that I chalked up to experience. But, I also realize that she must be in one heck of a tangled web to have to make herself appear to be a victim through manufactured lies.
She reminds me of the story and verse of Oh what a tangled web we weave, when we practice to deceive.
Today, I feel very vindicated. I know the truth has set me free. For those who want to believe her lies, they need to know her past. When you look at where they’ve been, what their plans are, and then you can see the truth to it all.
Personally, I do not know who is more crazy – she or the husband who took her back. Perhaps she has made him this way – or vice versa. I just know it feels good to be released from the bondage that I’ve carried inside of me.
Oh what a tangled web we weave, when we practice to deceive – but oh how great it feels to be free from those who weave their webs.
