Monday August 15th started out as just another day. I spent the morning blogging and debating whether or not to attend the writer’s group meeting that night. The third Monday of the month The Last Word writer’s group meets at a restaurant in Dothan. Dothan is a 25 mile drive (one way); so lately my attendance has been sporatic due to my macular degeneration.
I decided to attend and had looked forward to the meeting because we were having a guest speaker, but now wonder if it is time for me to leave this group. Let me tell my story and you decide:
The evening started out fine. The speaker was interesting; the food was as good as always, but during an evening lull one of the members (who I thought of as a friend) decided to get “cutesy” and she hurt me.
She shot a straw wrapper at me. Now under normal circumstances this would be nothing, but I cannot see that well due to my condition. I cannot say if everyone at the table laughed, but there was laughter. Now I could have panicked and overturned the table, but I saw what she was doing — not realizing her intentions– because she was sitting diagonally across from me.
My reaction when the wrapper hit me and I heard the laughter: I proclaimed that I did not appreciate what she had done and now realized why my mother (who had both wet and dry macular degeneration) had reacted the way she did to such shenanigans. I then arose and left. I heard comments and appologies to my departure, but continued onward.
Did I over react? Perhaps… but I thought of some of these people as my friends, and I was hurt and felt betrayed. I had trusted some of these people with my history and the woman that shot the wrapper at me has even had similar eye problems; so I thought she would be more empathetic.
I had felt that two of the women there were my friend and one of them shot me with the wrapper. I do not know if the other lady laughed — I was too busy trying to control my emotions.
My emotions are still raw from this incident and the straw “wrapper woman” has called to appologize, but I am not ready to speak with her. It has taken me two days to feel I can write about this. Do I need to toughen up? Probably so… Will I return to the group? At this time, I cannot say, but I’m grateful that two of the other people I call “friend” were not there that night.