I admit that I hold my breath. My heart races and my palms sweat when I see or hear my friends talking about certain things.
The story of the woman who attacked another and stole her baby...well that one has me very nervous. I have seen peeks of it here and there, but people have been pretty good at supressing the ugly things I can tell they really want to say.
People are sick. People are evil. There is no compassion.
I hold my breath and wait for those statements to hit me in the face like a slap. I don't have the energy to stand up and defend myself, let alone a complete stranger who is completely mentally unbalanced. I don't excuse her. How could anyone excuse that kind of behavior?
It's true, I don't know her circumstances. I only know she lost a baby (she didn't miscarry if she was at the end of her pregnancy...she had a stillbirth...but don't let facts ruin a perfectly good story) and a family member also recently had a baby.
And I can imagine it all.
I can feel that pain.
I understand her a little more than I am comfortable with.
And though I am distinguised from her because I maintained my sanity (only God knows how) through my grief, I could very easily be her. In some ways I AM her. That want...that drive to have a child at any cost...it is eerily familiar to me. (You're right delphi...it is an odd world when you identify with the criminal more than the victim.)
So I hold my breath a lot and steady myself for the comments I know are coming. How could she? What a sicko. I hope she gets x, y, or z as punishment.
And then someone else offers up a little pity for this woman and I exhale.
It's not so hard to imagine anything anymore.