Theresa is a woman I met through a mental health support group I used to attend. She once literally saved my life when I had an allergic reaction to a medication I was prescribed the day before. She drove me to the ER that day. Never mind that she told the doctors I had an intellectual disability at that time, but she did save my life.
Ever since then, she has been milking me for whatever she could get. She would often call me 15 times in 10 minutes, then she would show up at my doorstep if I did not answer the phone. And the reason why? Often because she was out of cash and she would literally die if I did not buy her a Diet Coke that very second, and she did remind me she saved my life that one time, so she is entitled to all of this, even if it meant draining the change in my change jar because she had needs and she was always thirsty NOW!
Ahem.
I used to have a movie night within this mental health group. Most of the people who showed up genuinely wanted to see the movies I had scheduled. But Theresa always showed up and she always threw a tantrum because she did not want to see what I had scheduled, and she killed the movie group nights because the rest of the group did not know how to handle her when she started pounding her fists and stating that because she did not want to watch those movies, nobody else should want to watch them either. The last movie night I had, I planned on showing a couple of violent R-rated movies, and I explicitly told her if she did not want to watch that content she should stay at home. She shows up anyway, and then she throws a tantrum about how the movies I planned on showing were absolutely disgusting, and she coerced the people who wanted to see them into saying they thought so too. These people told me they did not know why I still let her at these nights. My parents told me I should never exclude her because she did save my life that one time.
Once, I had somebody over for an erotic experience in the afternoon. She literally calls 30 times in 15 minutes, so I finally answer the phone because I knew her next step would be to start pounding on my window. She said she was literally dying and she needed a Diet Coke right now, and I told her it had to wait until the next day. She shows up and starts pounding on my window because she knew I had change in my change jar. She killed the mood and there was no erotic experience that day. And she did not thank me when I gave her the change that was in my change jar. She felt entitled to take whatever she could from me.
And even though I cut this woman out of my life a couple of years ago, I still sometimes hear from my family about how I was an asshole to her, about how I should have kept her in my life because she did save it, about how she was one of the best friends I ever had.
Somebody save me from the insanity that is my blood family.
Ever since then, she has been milking me for whatever she could get. She would often call me 15 times in 10 minutes, then she would show up at my doorstep if I did not answer the phone. And the reason why? Often because she was out of cash and she would literally die if I did not buy her a Diet Coke that very second, and she did remind me she saved my life that one time, so she is entitled to all of this, even if it meant draining the change in my change jar because she had needs and she was always thirsty NOW!
Ahem.
I used to have a movie night within this mental health group. Most of the people who showed up genuinely wanted to see the movies I had scheduled. But Theresa always showed up and she always threw a tantrum because she did not want to see what I had scheduled, and she killed the movie group nights because the rest of the group did not know how to handle her when she started pounding her fists and stating that because she did not want to watch those movies, nobody else should want to watch them either. The last movie night I had, I planned on showing a couple of violent R-rated movies, and I explicitly told her if she did not want to watch that content she should stay at home. She shows up anyway, and then she throws a tantrum about how the movies I planned on showing were absolutely disgusting, and she coerced the people who wanted to see them into saying they thought so too. These people told me they did not know why I still let her at these nights. My parents told me I should never exclude her because she did save my life that one time.
Once, I had somebody over for an erotic experience in the afternoon. She literally calls 30 times in 15 minutes, so I finally answer the phone because I knew her next step would be to start pounding on my window. She said she was literally dying and she needed a Diet Coke right now, and I told her it had to wait until the next day. She shows up and starts pounding on my window because she knew I had change in my change jar. She killed the mood and there was no erotic experience that day. And she did not thank me when I gave her the change that was in my change jar. She felt entitled to take whatever she could from me.
And even though I cut this woman out of my life a couple of years ago, I still sometimes hear from my family about how I was an asshole to her, about how I should have kept her in my life because she did save it, about how she was one of the best friends I ever had.
Somebody save me from the insanity that is my blood family.
