So I've not heard from Julie since a few days after I moved. Fair enough, I was pausing communications until I could tell her something solid, and without bias. There was no need to speak to her, I didn't want to fight, bitch or moan anymore. Certain people tried, and failed to draw me into a slanging match about her, but I couldn't. Sure I felt hard done by, and not alittle sorry for myself, but why hold on to all that? I had other things to worry about. The sooner I could get finances sorted, the sooner I could start paying what I owed.
Julie knew I have this blog. I didn't want to assume, but I suspected that since all other form of contact was out, she might read in from time to time. At least to see if I was bitching. I don't remember about alot of the ranting I did back then, so I've just read back. Yeah - I alluded to the fact I was upset. But I wasn't overly emotional about it, just stating facts. Apart from that, I've decided silence was my best option. It wasn't my right to rant on (and online) about only *my side* to the story. Of course, I'm biased. Right now though, my anger is directed toward the DWP, and I have no time to bitch about anything else.
Today, I was told Julie has started a blog. 3 posts so far, and 2 were pretty much about evil little moi and how I used and abused her generous nature. I'm not egotistical, but seriously, how passive aggressive is that? Blog, then link it to a newsfeed my BEST FRIEND AND BOYFRIEND still have access to. Julie many be many things, but not among them is stupid. Connect the dots, and here I am. Livid, and having disposed of breakfast via toilet bowl. With every half truth, every accusation pointed in my direction, she paints a pretty picture of me sucking her dry while she struggles to cope. Best of all, she then calls me an "amazing friend" before slandering me yet again.
I replied. Of course I did! Even though, the bile in my throat is making me gag, I don't want to turn this into an online argument, or worse, force people to take sides, but when I posted my comment, I was greeted with an "awaiting moderation" page. So I know, my comment will never see the light of day on her blog. It calls her out on too many things, and doesn't even BEGIN to spill the secrets she once told me. I wouldn't, and couldn't do that, but the desire to act the evil bitch she portrayed me to be is strong.
I'm not saying she's lying, or not seeing things as she sees them, but to present her version as solid fact is utterly classless.
So here it is, live and unedited, my response to her accusations. And not once have I felt justified.
Right. You feel wronged. Well so do I. You never gave me the chance to speak for myself. Right to reply? At least tell me you are bitching about me so I have one.
I'm so angry right now I'm shaking. I feel sick. You gave a half story, and you don't know ANYTHING about my life as it is now.
Right. I lost my job. An illegal one, thanks for announcing that. I was living on £66.11 a week, income support. You KNEW THIS. I tried so hard to find a job, then when I got one, I worked for 9 days. I was fired. Hardly enough to pay all the money I know I still owe you, and barely enough to pay myself out of the little pockets of debt I had so I could concentrate on paying you everything. I was honest about everything. When I tried to reclaim IC, the form got sent back to the wrong department. Then they wouldn't release it the the correct department until they had assessed it. Then I was told it was lost, I had to reclaim. I did it over the phone, and the declaration they sent out never arrived. Then I got kicked out, and since I had to change districts, from West Dumbartonshire to Glasgow - my files had to be sent over. Again, they went missing. I was told time after time it'll get sorted out evantually.
Since March 17 2009, I have been living off £76.44 a fortnight on crisis loans. I have had to sell things, and borrow even more cash to make rent since I can't claim for housing benefit right now.
I understand why you did it. I just don't like the way you did. A text message hours after you heard me argue YET again to the DWP about how they've fucked up. You kicked me when I was down. I felt so guilty about the whole thing, I was never at your house! I stayed with G 6 nights outta 7 from sheer guilt!
Don't you think for one minute I don't regret the way things turned out, because I do. You're not the only one who felt betrayed.
I'm at the mercy of a system thats supposed to help me, and I'm days away from being homeless yet again. I thought you understood the pressures I was under. I gutted out your house time and time again, for the few hours a week I was there, by way of penance, since I couldn't pay my way, I'd try to keep the house clean.
But I couldn't even do that.
And damn right I took the washing up liquid. I was being irrational, wiping my existence off your flat, trying to forget it ever happened. Plus, I had a new place to clean, and I paid for it. I'm surprised you didn't mention though, that I left my tumble dryer, or the pots.
Right now, I can't afford busfare much. I've not been able to get back to Dalmuir, not through lack of trying, believe me. You WILL get your suitcase back, it's sitting by the door, waiting to be took back. You WILL be getting money from me, as soon as I start getting paid. I've recently started a new job. I will contact you to set up a standing order.
But next time Julie, don't make it seem you were so hard done by. I tried my best, don't paint me the villian. When you tried to read that letter to me, it was all I could do not to harm myself for all the shit I've screwed up. Don't confuse a less than emotional reaction with not caring. I didn't want to make you feel worse or guilty if I showed how desparate I felt.
Funny. We could have salvaged something outta this mess. You've just killed any chance of that happening.