[829] Crazy-Z-Bich

If I'm going to remain stuck in the moment, I might as well write about it. Let's start easy.

There's different kinds of liars. I tell people often that mostly, my job is to get lied to. It sounds weird, but it's true. My job is not to “ensure safety” for children. My job is to ask questions, get lied to, and then see how often I can prove those lies and combine them with fancy inflammatory words to get you caught up in the State.

Today I was lied to by a most insidious type. There's the general pieces of shit who fluidly flow from one nonsense lie to another, often in the same breath, and you can't shut them up. They're like a waterfall of bullshit, and everyone involved, unless you're their case manager, learns to let it wash over them as streams of bullshit will. The type that lied to me is what I consider a cancerous cousin of this type. The stream of consciousness bullshitter is warped in a pitiful manner. The cancerous cousin is malicious.

This kind of liar wants to see you dance. “I CAN'T MEET! MY SCHEDULE IS SOOOOO BUSY!” Always exasperated and insistent. This liar will tell you they couldn't be bothered to answer you for over a week, send you a text before the ghosting suggesting good will for the holiday, and then throw their own cancellation of plans in your face. This person will knowingly tell you “yes,” anticipating the next minute’s “no” to the same question, after you've pulled out the form, and after they've reiterated their “very serious” concern about signing anything.

This person feels like they need to attack, but they're broken, so the attack is broken. They won't lash out, because they don't really believe in anything. They have to act dumber than they are, put up walls not because they feel defensive, but because they're angry the world might ever direct its attention at them for any reason, let alone the genuinely concerning ones. I realized as I was getting heated twice with this kind of person, there's something special about how fucked they are and what it speaks to in me.

I try incredibly hard to keep it together. I'm a short fuse when you hit the right buttons. It's literally a categorized character type and nothing special, but it's something to be aware of. Not much will set me off, like it takes straight up violence most often, and even then it's a toss up. More often than I'd like, I'll flare up when it comes to how we're approaching the “truth.” I get lied to all day every day, why was her approach so unsettling? Different quasi-parallel circumstance that comes to mind: why did I get snappy at my girl when she kind of dismissively was writing off something I was saying about myself and perspective?

I want to be recognized for how much it's taken to get to be who I am. I want to be seen for all of the words and effort and pulling-it-together after the teeth grinding and panic and incredible amount of rage gets distracted by a cheeseburger. To disingenuously play with that isn't just rude or bitchy, you're fucking with my functioning foundation for fucking with life. I can recognize a scared bitch, an angry cunt, a stupid fuck, the insecure, defensive, sad, or a wanna-be “crazy.” But what do you make of a chaotic condescending malicious piece of trash who, so ashamed of themselves think it best to, not cope, not implode, or not speak with humility, but turn on the very concept of accountability or those who represent reasonable caution and concern?

It's a different, extra shitty animal. They aren't looking for sympathy for their poverty or past. They are daring you to acknowledge their depravity at any moment so they can invite you into it. I found myself relatively speechless because every word becomes an opportunity to be squeezed beyond comprehension. I meet a lot of pieces of shit, but when they go above and beyond, it's absolutely necessary to parse out their demon. You gotta know what you're fucking with and who's trying to fuck back.