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This entry should be titled "Dreams and the End of Friendships", but I'm not sure that's grammatically correct (the ends of friendship? the ends of friendships? since I'm referring to one in particular, should they all be singular...but what I feel would apply to anybody who hurt me this way, so plurality is called for), and anyway that's probably just because this is really, really hard to write. Yet it's high time I did.
It's been a year now, and I'm still angry, still hurt beyond measure, still utterly shocked that a "best friend" could (and did) do the things Teresa did to me...it will never make sense to me. The day I sent my last email to her, I set up the "rules" section of my MS Outlook to reject any and all emails sent from her URL before they ever hit my mailbox. They were (and still are) deleted from the server, that's how far away I wanted to be from her.
After a year, I feel safe now. A little. More, anyway. I know this much: she cannot CANNOT hurt me anymore. That part is over and done with. There's just nothing left of me for her at all, much less a vulnerable part.
Teresa and I became friends when we became roommates out of necessity in the late summer of 1979. We worked together, which is how we knew each other, but we weren't "friends" in the true sense of the word. We were, in fact, entirely opposite from each other...except for one thing we did share: we both ADORED drugs. This made our cohabitation work amazingly well, and we would continue to be roommates off and on until she got married and so did I.
Until the summer of 2002, when I left Perry in the throes of psychosis (what else could it have been?), and Teresa had just rented an apartment that made it possible for her and her children to leave her Dad's house and live independently once more, I moved in with her. The deal was this: she paid the rent, and I paid half the utilities and put my name on all the accounts, which was absolutely fine with me. I was damned grateful for her generosity and for being there when I needed her---at just the right time, with exactly what I needed the most---a roof over my head, a sense of family, unconditional love.
How many years is that? From 1979 to 2002? That's how long we'd been friends when she stuck me with her bills. It's that simple, really. She rented the apartment on June 1, and I got there on the 10th. She had no electricity or water or gas or phone. She couldn't GET any utilities without paying HUGE deposits that she couldn't afford. Why? Because her credit is so awful. Not only is HER credit awful, she's used both her kids' names and social security numbers to get credit in the past, so they're fucked up too. Enter ME. I got everything turned on without deposits, but when Perry and I decided to give it another shot in October and I came back to my family, I DID NOT HAVE THE UTILITIES TRANSFERRED OUT OF MY NAME. I didn't because that would've meant Teresa would have had nothing. I knew.
It took them a long time, but they all found me here. One of them went straight to Perry's credit report...that one was the $300-plus electric bill. All the dates of service were, naturally, after October 15 when I left. All the utilities showed me a zero balance due at the end of October, and after that...no more payments until she left (got evicted?), so the bills just got higher and higher.
And they were all in my name.
The total was around $800, and we had to pay them all. We wrote letters. We got my brother to look at some civil action against her (possible and we'd likely win, but you can't get blood from a stone...)
How could she? How could she be that careless with our relationship? Was that what I was to her? How many sets of tires did I buy her? How many times did I "loan" her money (which we both knew would never be paid back) How many times, when I got lucky, did I just give her some, hoping THAT would be the one time that would turn her life around? Who did I take on the one and only cruise I've ever been on? Who has always been the major recipient of my generosity?
Yeah. I'm a fucking idiot. She was doing speed the whole time I lived with her in 2002 and I didn't know it. I fell for her lies and her bullshit stories for why she didn't come home until midnight (did I mention I was the unpaid babysitter for her son the entire time I was there?) I fell for all of it, and I ended up paying her debts on top of everything else, because that is all I was to her.
So I dreamed about her last night for the zillionth time over the past year, and I'm sick of these dreams. Maybe if I write about it here, where SHE could read all about herself (IF she could remember anything for longer than 18 hours; methamphetamine does rob a person of his/her memory and cognition so it's doubtful she remembers I have a blog)...just maybe the dreams will stop?
It's been a year now, and I'm still angry, still hurt beyond measure, still utterly shocked that a "best friend" could (and did) do the things Teresa did to me...it will never make sense to me. The day I sent my last email to her, I set up the "rules" section of my MS Outlook to reject any and all emails sent from her URL before they ever hit my mailbox. They were (and still are) deleted from the server, that's how far away I wanted to be from her.
After a year, I feel safe now. A little. More, anyway. I know this much: she cannot CANNOT hurt me anymore. That part is over and done with. There's just nothing left of me for her at all, much less a vulnerable part.
Teresa and I became friends when we became roommates out of necessity in the late summer of 1979. We worked together, which is how we knew each other, but we weren't "friends" in the true sense of the word. We were, in fact, entirely opposite from each other...except for one thing we did share: we both ADORED drugs. This made our cohabitation work amazingly well, and we would continue to be roommates off and on until she got married and so did I.
Until the summer of 2002, when I left Perry in the throes of psychosis (what else could it have been?), and Teresa had just rented an apartment that made it possible for her and her children to leave her Dad's house and live independently once more, I moved in with her. The deal was this: she paid the rent, and I paid half the utilities and put my name on all the accounts, which was absolutely fine with me. I was damned grateful for her generosity and for being there when I needed her---at just the right time, with exactly what I needed the most---a roof over my head, a sense of family, unconditional love.
How many years is that? From 1979 to 2002? That's how long we'd been friends when she stuck me with her bills. It's that simple, really. She rented the apartment on June 1, and I got there on the 10th. She had no electricity or water or gas or phone. She couldn't GET any utilities without paying HUGE deposits that she couldn't afford. Why? Because her credit is so awful. Not only is HER credit awful, she's used both her kids' names and social security numbers to get credit in the past, so they're fucked up too. Enter ME. I got everything turned on without deposits, but when Perry and I decided to give it another shot in October and I came back to my family, I DID NOT HAVE THE UTILITIES TRANSFERRED OUT OF MY NAME. I didn't because that would've meant Teresa would have had nothing. I knew.
It took them a long time, but they all found me here. One of them went straight to Perry's credit report...that one was the $300-plus electric bill. All the dates of service were, naturally, after October 15 when I left. All the utilities showed me a zero balance due at the end of October, and after that...no more payments until she left (got evicted?), so the bills just got higher and higher.
And they were all in my name.
The total was around $800, and we had to pay them all. We wrote letters. We got my brother to look at some civil action against her (possible and we'd likely win, but you can't get blood from a stone...)
How could she? How could she be that careless with our relationship? Was that what I was to her? How many sets of tires did I buy her? How many times did I "loan" her money (which we both knew would never be paid back) How many times, when I got lucky, did I just give her some, hoping THAT would be the one time that would turn her life around? Who did I take on the one and only cruise I've ever been on? Who has always been the major recipient of my generosity?
Yeah. I'm a fucking idiot. She was doing speed the whole time I lived with her in 2002 and I didn't know it. I fell for her lies and her bullshit stories for why she didn't come home until midnight (did I mention I was the unpaid babysitter for her son the entire time I was there?) I fell for all of it, and I ended up paying her debts on top of everything else, because that is all I was to her.
So I dreamed about her last night for the zillionth time over the past year, and I'm sick of these dreams. Maybe if I write about it here, where SHE could read all about herself (IF she could remember anything for longer than 18 hours; methamphetamine does rob a person of his/her memory and cognition so it's doubtful she remembers I have a blog)...just maybe the dreams will stop?
Current Mood: 
contemplative
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