The blurst kind of friend.

Thoughts on being left when you’re planning to leave and toxic friendships.

I’d like to begin this post by mentioning that none of these photos were altered. Sometimes when you look at people a certain way, you can actually see who they really are.

La diabla. I never said I wasn’t petty.

A lot of women may read this and relate to this kind of friendship. My boyfriend recoils or generally makes a face like he’s smelt something rotten when I tell him some of my stories. Although I don’t think I’ve even told him some of the bad ones. I haven’t even scratched the surface.

If you haven’t had these types of friendships (count yourself lucky), you’ll be bewildered. Boggled. It just doesn’t make sense.

She was like the sun. Intense. Brilliant. She drew everyone in. But the thing about the sun is that it’s alright if you admire from a distance. It’ll kill you if you get too close.
Those narcissistic type behaviours of hers? I’m not sure if I didn’t notice them at first (maybe I didn’t want to) or if she didn’t reveal them all at once. Maybe they were uncovered so slowly, little by little.

But to make sense of this to people who haven’t experienced this- I’m not going to get into the car with Ted Bundy the killer. But I’d get into the car with the charming, friendly, normal, good looking Ted Bundy.


I first met Karlie on a Ningaloo Reef camp for young carers. My mum had often pushed me into these kinds of camps. Maybe out of guilt that I’d never had a normal family holiday due to my brothers or maybe she just wanted me to connect with kids my age who could understand that my brothers hum and hand flap.

I always hated these camps. Everyone else seemed to have normal families despite their disabled sibling. Everyone wanted to make friends with everyone but me. Everyone had siblings with Down Syndrome that would exclaim “I HOPE and WISH that I have a disabled kid!” and I’d sit there thinking I’d rather spend my wishes on ice cream and cake.

I remember at one of these camps, we were meant to write up an emotion on a white board everyday. I never ever used them. One girl whose sister was dying of a brain tumour wrote that her parents had prevented her sister from committing suicide again. I looked at that comment, thought to myself “this is too fucking heavy” and went to go read in my bedroom.

I didn’t want to go to one of these camps again. It was mainly because I wanted to go snorkelling with whale sharks and because I was promised we’d be staying at a caravan park and not actually camping in tents that I decided to go. That, coupled with the fact that I wasn’t paying full price for the camp and to spite my awful cousin who wanted to go in my name (even though she’s never looked after my brothers) meant that I was on my way to another sibling camp.

The punch line here is that it wasn’t whale shark season and we were staying in tents. I had never camped in a tent before and although Justin Bieber says never say never, I want to say that I will never stay in a tent again. I would rather eat my own shit. Those smug twats on Facebook that share photos saying “I’d rather be sleeping on the ground than going to a nightclub”…? I hate camping, I hate nightclubs but at least nightclubs don’t involve you showering with half a bucket of water every second day during a 45+ degree heat.

I was nervous. I was fat. I was shy. Funnily enough, I didn’t speak to Karlie much on the trip except on the bus home where I thought she was pushy, arrogant and unable to admit when she was wrong. There’s something to be said for first impressions.


When we got home, we added each other on Facebook and threw each other the occasional like. It wasn’t until two years after the camp when she noticed my love of Harry Potter that we struck up actual conversations and started hanging out.

I liked that Karlie was like me. She didn’t have any siblings that weren’t disabled, like everyone else on those camps. She knew what it was like to feel truly alone but not really alone because there’s someone you have to take care of. There’s always someone who is taking your parent’s attention away from you. I like to bastardize a Hannah Montana phrase and say that “it’s the worst of both worlds”. It’s the loneliness of being an only child and the lack of attention like you’re one of seven. I’ll never ask my brothers if they want to catch up for dinner or what we should get Mum for Christmas.

We bonded.

I wanted her to like me.

I wanted her to think that I was cool. That I wasn’t just some lonely, sad, fat, friendless girl.

And she did. She thought I was funny. She thought that I had interesting things to say. She thought that I hadn’t met the right people who appreciated me.

I was like a stray puppy who was used to being kicked. I followed her everywhere. I was quiet, I never disagreed with her. But that changed and she didn’t like I didn’t need her as much.

When we met, I was in therapy following a suicide attempt. As with the cancer that killed my nana- third time’s a charm, right? That was probably too dank to joke about but it took 3 attempts for me to get some help. I wasn’t working. I was about to start studying a course that I had little interest in but was hoping it would quickly lead me to a job.

The course led to a new job which led to me working regular hours which led to me exercising for the first time in years. A regular pay check, a rapidly decreasing waist line and a new found confidence. I wasn’t Karlie’s needy, fat friend anymore. I was my own person.


As a teenager and young adult, I avoided serious relationships for fear of ending up with an abusive man like my father. I promised myself that I would never end up in an abusive relationship. I didn’t realise at the time that these abusive relationships can come in several shapes and forms. They can even happen in friendships.

I never let myself get close to a man because I thought that he would hurt me.

Constantly walking on eggshells. Always being put down for something. Feeling like I could never do anything right- even the way I said hello was in the wrong tone of voice. Why did I wave hello? Why didn’t I wave hello? What was wrong with me? Didn’t I know that I should still be apologising for some small slight that happened months ago?

That was the end of my friendship with Karlie. In the end, she made me feel the same way that my father did.

And I let that happen.

I thought I was protecting myself from abuse. But it was still happening, just in a way that I didn’t expect.

I used to describe my friendship with Karlie as “the clingiest relationship I’ve ever had but I didn’t even get any sex out of it”.

I would have to ignore my incessant messages and phone calls from her. My stomach would get tied up in knots every time she messaged me. If I didn’t reply straight away, I was in trouble. If I couldn’t or didn’t want to do what she suggested, I was in even worse trouble.

Friends and family shouldn’t make you feel that way.

But I didn’t know any different.

I was used to the abuse.

I was a fat bitch after all. I deserved it, right?


Another example of my never doing anything right. She didn’t respond to my texts, calls or Facebook messages. I saw she was online and wrote on her wall asking if I could have my photos. Normal people don’t rant and rave about this for days.


I flushed the toilet too loud.

She complained everyday on our trip to Bali together because I was being disrespectful and flushing the toilet too loudly.

This is not a complaint that I’ve heard since.

I adapted my toilet habits in case I did flush too loud. I went for the old “if it’s yellow, let it mellow. If it’s brown, flush it down”.

And you know what the funny thing was? She still managed to find something to complain about.

Something that was clearly my fault.

You wouldn’t expect anything else, right?

She hated when the Balinese complimented my pale skin and ignored her burnt ass. She often told the Balinese that I would get skin cancer because I’m pale.


I was torn between ending the friendship for good and hoping she would go back to the way that she used to act.

I tried to talk things out. I told her that I didn’t like it when she pressured me into doing things that I didn’t want to do. That she would never take no for an answer.

She berated me until I apologised and said that of course she would never pressure me into anything.

I wonder if she realised that our friendship had run its course. Or that I was trying to move away from her.

I wanted to cut those ties myself. I really did. I was reluctant to. After all, she was responsible for my confidence and happiness. She told me I was like her sister.

Until one night, she cut me off. Karlie cut me down one more time and blocked me on every avenue because now that I could stand up for myself, she didn’t want me to.

What she messaged me before she blocked me on everything. She posted that exercise and clean eating doesn’t help with dieting, only one brand of diet shakes helps. She did not like my “well they might work for some but exercise and clean eating worked for me” AT ALL.

Telling someone with weight issues that you hope they regain weight is just particularly hurtful and cruel for no reason. You know that’s a sore spot. So you hit it, stab it, pour salt in the wound then tell the wound that if they didn’t act so woundy- you wouldn’t have stabbed them.


She taught me that I shouldn’t let people treat me like crap, that I should expect to be treated better. She just didn’t like that I applied what I had learnt to her.

I realised that all those things she said about me. That I was disrespectful, that I was toxic and negative. They weren’t me. She was talking about herself. And although it wasn’t right, that was a way for her to get rid of her hurt. And I took on that poison and carried around with me for a while. Until I realised that I needed to suck the poison out (please don’t do this, that’s now how you treat snake bites and it’s a terrible idea) and get rid of it. Although she may have scammed* enough people to go to America or buy a fancy car, she has to live with the fact that whenever she lets people get close enough to see her true self- they’re horrified.






*Scam may be a harsh word to use but I do see her as a Joanne the scammer type of character. She lied to people and told them that she was able to quit her old job because she made so much money at her new company. When in reality, she was fired for doing something highly inappropriate.


10 Comments Add yours

  1. WOW. I’m speechless. Not surprised, but speechless.
    Good on you for having the courage and talent to write such a piece, it can’t have been easy revisiting those memories. How one person can treat other human beings the same way is beyond me, it can only be put down to mental illness in my opinion, and the person needs serious help.
    Stay strong and keep smiling, fighter!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Yeah, after hearing a collection of stories now, it’s not really a surprise.

      Thanks for your kind words. My stomach did drop a little bit when I was looking through old messages for screen shots. No idea why I need to hoard onto old messages but it came in handy for this post.

      But I feel so different from the girl who was friends with Karlie and believed the things she said. So I’m not hurt by those messages anymore. I can’t take it personally. I’m just another person who got steam rolled in her rampage.

      Thanks, you too 😊💕



  2. can i share this with my personal facebook friends list? others who were affected by this person might be able to relate, i hope that’s okay!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Feel free to! Let anyone who relates know that I have a hug and cup of tea for them too.

      Of course I’ll need to be made aware if anyone compliments my devishlly good looks 😏


  3. Jense says:

    You two are a bunch of sick individuals who only gain happiness by defaming and tearing down others with your hate. If you don’t think karma is coming for you, please just hold your breath. What a shameless waste of time for someone to waste all this energy creating photos and pasting emojis on someone and writing about shit that happened 4 years ago that made you butt hurt. Obviously the only people who haven’t moved on from this is YOU! Your one sick individual for wasting so much time on hate and ugliness. Have you ever heard of leaving shit in the past? Perhaps your negativity and shit starting ways seem like something to brag about in your book but in mine it looks like a sad attempt at drama. If your still hanging on to shit from 4 years ago your “new life” must not be as amazing as you are pretending to portray. Good luck commiserating with other hideous people like yourself who live with jealousy and envy of someone you only wish gave a shit about what you think. If you don’t want to see yourself in court I’d recommend you get rid of your tactless piece of shit article and get a life!!! Move the f*** on I think enough time has passed so that you should maybe try to move on to something happy instead of festering and pretending to be a good person while still being the same sad person wishing you had a friendship with someone better than yourself in every aspect of life.


  4. Karma says:

    Well the proof is in the pudding here isn’t it – LOL! Look at this poorly written, explicicity ridden abuse.
    You’re cut from the same loaf as Karlie, fo sho.


    1. Poor Jense, whoever they may be (because I CERTAINLY have no idea).

      Hopefully they’ll make a friend that won’t release like Burns releases his dogs or releases his dogs with bees in their mouths so when they bark- they shoot bees. Except that bark actually stings and isn’t some sad stuff about being butthurt (legit anyone who uses that phrase is actually the offended one).

      Feel bad for her.


    2. I don’t think I’ll publish comments on this piece anymore. I approved the other one because I wasn’t going to take it in silence.

      People like Amber and her comment above are the reason why people are afraid to be open about mental health and being bullied/abused. Speaking out about abuse does not make you a bad person.

      Harassing someone who is being open about their struggles with depression, etc makes you a shit cunt.

      I work with a lot of women in their 40s and I can’t imagine any of them seeking out a blog by someone 20 years younger to spew vitriol. Especially someone they have never met and about a situation they have no idea about. But they have hobbies. I feel bad for her to think being a good friend involves hurting someone.


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