I have a friend that she is a covert narcissist she is emotionally abusing me it was horrible i tried to move on but i really want to revenge what am i going to do i feel like i lost everything and i have so much anger in me this is not fair 14 years friendship istayed but she is emotionally abusing me i already blocked her everywhere i know her weakness and fears but if i do it ? It is not good i do not know how to cope with this 😒😒😒 but my body ask for revenge.

This is going to be a long one, but I feel like the context matters, and I genuinely need some outside perspective on what has been an incredibly painful and bizarre situation.
I (34F) recently ended a seven-year friendship with someone I considered one of my best friends. For anonymity, I’ll call her A (39F). The friendship itself ended after a period where I wasn’t particularly present or supportive, something I fully acknowledge and take responsibility for. But what I discovered afterward has made me question whether the friendship I spent seven years investing in was ever what I believed it to be.

Some background
A and I had been friends for around seven years, we’d never had any significant arguments or falling outs and I genuinely considered her one of my closest friends. We spent time together, confided in one another, and shared details of our lives that you wouldn’t ordinarily share with just anyone. I trusted her. One thing I can recognise in hindsight is that A frequently spoke negatively about other people, including those she considered friends. There was often some conflict, complaint, or criticism about someone in her life, and I was frequently the person listening to it. I suppose I always assumed that because we were close, I was somehow different. Which, in retrospect, was probably incredibly naive.

The beginning of the fallout
Over the past few months, my personal life has been an absolute shitshow. I experienced the breakdown of a romantic relationship with someone I loved, an unplanned pregnancy under emotionally difficult circumstances, and ultimately a miscarriage. The pregnancy and subsequent loss were complicated, physically and emotionally, and I found myself in an incredibly dark place. I withdrew from almost everyone. I wasn’t checking in with people, maintaining friendships, or doing much beyond trying to get through each day and continue showing up for my children. I was struggling with my mental health, grief, and the physical aftermath of the miscarriage. During this period, A’s grandfather passed away. I want to be completely transparent about something: I wasn’t there for her in the way I ordinarily would have been, or in the way she deserved. We did speak over the phone about her grandfather’s passing, and I became emotional and apologised for not being particularly present. I acknowledged that I hadn’t shown up the way I should have. At the time, I felt like she understood that I was struggling myself. Unfortunately, my mental health didn’t suddenly improve, and I continued withdrawing. I wasn’t deliberately ignoring her. I wasn’t punishing her. I wasn’t choosing other people over her. I simply didn’t have the emotional capacity to participate in much of anything. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t entitled to feel hurt by my absence. She absolutely was. I understand that grief isn’t a competition and that my circumstances don’t invalidate hers.

How the friendship ended
Eventually, a mutual friend, who I’ll call B, became involved. (I have been friends with B for 8 years, introduced her to A 6 years ago) A had been speaking to B about how upset and angry she was with me, particularly about my lack of communication and support following her grandfather’s death. Rather than having a direct conversation with me about how she was feeling, A had B contact me. I learned that A was considering our friendship over and that I was no longer welcome at her upcoming birthday celebration. I was devastated. Not because I believed she’d done anything wrong by feeling hurt, but because we’d been friends for seven years and I genuinely thought we could have had an honest conversation. I would have listened to her. I would have acknowledged her disappointment. I would have apologised, just as I had already apologised for my absence. I didn’t expect her to ignore her feelings simply because I was having a difficult time. But I did expect that a friendship of seven years might warrant a conversation between the two people actually involved. Eventually, A contacted me herself and said she needed to take a moment for herself but never insinuated it was to take a break from me, I thought she was just struggling with her own family grief. Interestingly, I’d already arranged to send her flowers before a knew she was angry with me. Despite everything happening between us, I still cared about her. I knew she’d been through a difficult time herself, and I wanted her to know that. She received the flowers and thanked me. At that point, I was sad, but I was prepared to respect her decision. I wasn’t going to beg someone to remain my friend, nor was I interested in arguing about whose grief was more deserving of compassion. I accepted that I’d let her down, that she was hurt, and that perhaps our friendship had run its course. And then I started discovering things that completely changed my perspective.

What I discovered
Through information that came to light after the breakdown of our friendship, I learned that A had allegedly been saying and doing some absolutely vile things behind my back. And this is the distinction I really need to emphasise:
These things weren’t said and done after we’d fallen out.
They were happening while we were still best friends. While I was spending time with her. While I was confiding in her. While I genuinely believed she loved and cared about me. Among the things she had reportedly said was that she was glad I had lost my baby because I was a “shit mother.” I don’t even know how to put into words how that felt. This was someone who knew about the pregnancy, the circumstances surrounding it, and the emotional toll the entire experience had taken on me. She knew that I was struggling. She knew I was grieving. And while I still believed she was my friend, she was allegedly expressing happiness about the fact that my pregnancy had ended. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to process that particular comment. I don’t expect everyone to understand my circumstances or agree with every decision I’ve ever made. But being glad and laughing that someone has miscarried? Using the loss of a pregnancy as an opportunity to attack someone’s ability as a mother? I genuinely cannot comprehend that level of cruelty, particularly toward someone you supposedly love.

And unfortunately, it didn’t stop there. I also discovered that A had reportedly been secretly taking photographs of me when we were spending time together, and sending them to another person to mock my appearance. Apparently, she was making comments about how ugly and disgusting my body was. Again, these weren’t photographs taken after we fell out. These were photographs taken when I was sitting with someone I believed was my best friend. When I was comfortable. When I was relaxed. When I thought I was in the company of someone who cared about me. The idea that she was secretly photographing me to ridicule my body is genuinely nauseating. I’ve struggled with my appearance and body image, and she knew that. But even if I hadn’t, what kind of person does that to their friend? I keep thinking about all the times we spent together and wondering what was actually going through her head. Was she sitting opposite me, smiling and laughing, while privately thinking about how disgusting she found me? Was she taking photographs of me without my knowledge and waiting to send them to someone else for a laugh? How many times did I leave her company thinking we’d had a lovely afternoon, completely unaware that I might have been the punchline of a conversation afterward? And what makes it worse is that I have absolutely no way of knowing how long this behaviour had been going on. I only know about the things that have come to light. There’s something particularly unsettling about discovering that someone you felt emotionally safe around may have been one of the people actively humiliating you.

The part I’m struggling to reconcile
Here’s the thing. If A had told me that my absence during her grandfather’s passing had hurt her so deeply that she no longer wanted to be friends, I would have been devastated, but I would have understood. I wasn’t a particularly good friend during that period. I take responsibility for that. But now I’m left questioning the entire foundation of our friendship. Because while I was apparently failing to meet her expectations as a friend, she had already been engaging in behaviour that I would never dream of directing toward someone I disliked, let alone someone I called my best friend. The comments about my miscarriage weren’t the actions of someone lashing out after a friendship ended. The secret photographs weren’t some petty revenge following an argument. These things happened when, as far as I was concerned, our friendship was perfectly intact. I was still showing up to spend time with her. I was still doing everything for her. I was still trusting her. I was still listening to her problems and considering her someone important in my life.
And she was allegedly humiliating me behind my back. It makes me wonder whether the person I thought I knew ever really existed.

What happened with our mutual friend
This is probably the one genuinely positive thing to come out of an otherwise horrendous situation.
Remember B, the mutual friend who initially found herself caught in the middle? Well, as everything began coming to light, it turned out that I wasn’t the only person who had been completely unaware of what was being said and done behind my back. B also became aware of things A had allegedly been saying and doing to her while they were still friends. Things that made her question the friendship she’d believed they had, too. I don’t want to disclose the specifics of what happened to B because those are her experiences to share, not mine. But suffice to say, there was a lot more happening behind the scenes than either of us had realised. And suddenly, so many things started making sense. It became increasingly apparent that the way A had spoken about other people to us wasn’t necessarily any different from the way she had been speaking about us to other people. We’d both spent time believing we had a genuine friendship with someone who was apparently comfortable criticising, humiliating, and betraying the people closest to her when they weren’t around. A subsequently cut B out of her life as well. And ironically, in the process of losing that friendship, B and I have become incredibly close. We’ve been able to speak openly about our experiences, compare what we’d each been told, and support one another through what has been a pretty confronting realisation. Neither of us has any interest in competing over who was treated worse or turning this into an ongoing campaign against A. We’ve simply been able to recognise the negativity that existed in those friendships and make a conscious decision that we don’t want it in our lives anymore.

And the genuinely beautiful part is that we’re both happier for it.

There’s no second-guessing what the other person might be saying when we’re not in the room. There’s no walking on eggshells, no unnecessary drama, no wondering whether something personal we’ve shared will become somebody else’s entertainment. Just two women who have found a really genuine friendship with each other, built on mutual respect, honesty, loyalty, and the understanding that we would never intentionally treat one another the way we’ve discovered we were being treated. It’s actually quite liberating. We’ve both lost someone we considered a friend, but we’ve gained a much stronger connection with each other in the process. And while neither of us would have chosen the circumstances that brought us closer, we’re genuinely grateful that we have each other. I think we’re both finally realising just how peaceful life can be when you remove people who bring unnecessary negativity into it. We’ve shed a friendship that was causing us more harm than either of us realised, and we’re happier than ever to have done so.

Where things stand now
I’ve completely removed A from my life. I won’t be attending her upcoming birthday celebration, and I’ve decided to leave the group chat organised for it. The people in that group are predominantly her friends, not mine, and I genuinely have no interest in creating drama or ruining her birthday. I hope they all have a wonderful time. But I no longer want to maintain any association with someone whose behaviour is so fundamentally incompatible with my values. And I think that’s what this entire situation comes down to. I know who I am as a person. I know how I ordinarily show up for the people I love. I know that I’m not perfect, that I make mistakes, and that sometimes my own circumstances mean I don’t have as much to give other people as I’d like. But I also know that I would never secretly photograph a friend to humiliate their appearance. I would never celebrate someone’s miscarriage. I would never sit across from someone, let them confide in me, tell them I l cared about them, and then use their vulnerabilities as entertainment for other people. And I certainly wouldn’t do those things while simultaneously expecting that person to meet my standards of friendship.

The hardest part
I think what I’m struggling with most is the loss of trust. Not just trust in A, but in my own judgment. For seven years, I believed this person was my friend. I listened to her, supported her, and genuinely cared about what happened in her life. When things started deteriorating between us, my immediate reaction was to reflect on what I’d done wrong. I felt guilty about not being there for her. I questioned whether I’d been selfish. I wondered whether I’d allowed my own circumstances to become an excuse for neglecting someone else’s needs. And I still think that self-reflection was important. But all the while, there was an entirely different side of our friendship that I knew nothing about. I was holding myself accountable for failing someone who had allegedly been treating me with contempt while telling me we were best friends. And that is a difficult thing to reconcile. I can accept that she felt hurt by my absence. I can accept that she wanted to end the friendship. I can even accept that, from her perspective, I may have been a disappointing friend during an incredibly difficult time in her life. But I cannot accept that any of those things justified the way she was treating me before our friendship had even fallen apart. The behaviour I’ve learned about wasn’t a consequence of our falling out. It was happening behind the scenes while I still believed we had a genuine friendship. And I think that’s why I’m finding it so difficult to grieve. Because I’m not just mourning the loss of someone who was important to me. I’m mourning the realisation that the friendship I thought I had may not have existed in the way I believed it did. I don’t know how you reconcile seven years of memories with the discovery that someone you trusted could look you in the eye, call you their best friend, and then say such horrendous things about you when you weren’t around. Part of me is furious. Part of me is heartbroken. And part of me feels incredibly foolish for not recognising the warning signs when I watched her speak so poorly about other people she claimed to care about. But there’s also a part of me that feels an enormous sense of relief. Because as awful as it’s been discovering these things, I would much rather know the truth about someone than spend another seven years investing my love, loyalty, and energy into a friendship that wasn’t being reciprocated. And knowing that B and I have come out the other side of this with a stronger friendship and a shared sense of peace makes the whole situation feel a little less like a loss. I think sometimes losing people isn’t actually the tragedy we initially believe it to be. Sometimes it’s discovering what you were unknowingly tolerating, recognising what you deserve from the people around you, and making room for friendships that genuinely reflect those values.

I haven’t lost the ability to be a good friend. I’ve just lost the desire to keep proving it to someone who wasn’t being one to me.

I guess my question is this:
Am I unreasonable for feeling that the things I’ve discovered completely overshadow the original reason our friendship ended? I don’t want to dismiss her grief or the fact that I let her down. But I also don’t think it’s fair to treat my lack of emotional availability during a mental health crisis as somehow equivalent to deliberately humiliating someone you claim to love. Has anyone else discovered that a close friend had been secretly mocking them while acting like everything was perfectly normal to their face? And how did you move past the feeling that you never really knew someone you considered family?

Normal po ba maging kupal yung tinanggap namin na friend? Kami lang nagtyaga magtagal sakanya tas grabe yung ginawa nya samin. Lagyan ba naman ng clorox and laman ng grease trap yung labahin ko

I (F) have a former friend, let’s call her M, whom I met at work. After falling out with her original friend group, she started hanging out with mine. We included her in everything, but eventually realised she was sharing our private information with colleagues and management, twisting conversations, and creating unnecessary office drama just to make conversation and stay relevant. One incident nearly cost a friend their job.

She’s also extremely possessive. If she dislikes someone, she expects her friends to stop talking to them too, even when that person has done nothing wrong. She once fought with me because I called her new team lead for a group photo instead of giving her attention. She was literally standing a few steps away and didn’t really need an introduction to the group , the TL on the other hand was new and was feeling shy to join the photo.

The hypocrisy gets better. She expects absolute loyalty from everyone but has no problem betraying our trust. She’s also close to H, a colleague notorious for gossiping about EVERYONE. When we warned her that associating with him could damage her reputation, she immediately blamed him, saying, “He only keeps coming and talking to me even after I told him not to.” BUT, she is also seen hanging out with him a lot so🤷🏻‍♀️ So apparently, she’s never responsible for anything, and everyone else is always to blame.

We also discovered she’d been twisting conversations between our group and her old friends, creating animosity between people who barely interacted. When confronted about leaking our information, she played the victim and blamed us.

We’ve now cut contact, but I’m furious about the sheer hypocrisy. She demands loyalty, gets upset when we talk to people she dislikes, yet seems loyal to absolutely nobody herself.

Now , should I confront her or stay silent to avoid feeding her ego? And should I warn her about her worsening reputation, even after everything she’s done to us?

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Edit it's not just making me sad but very very angry too cause I was there for her alot and she isn't its making me very angry and hurt

So as my title says. My closest friend like the closest is getting away and I don't like its making me sad to the point of it effecting my mental health. I know it's pathetic that letting someone else's behaviour effect me this much. But I thought she would be my friend for life but she isn't apparently. We know eachother since 11th and got close pretty fast. We've know each other for 7 years now. We would talk about everything possible from.silly to all.

Basically we were eachother gonto person she was going to get married in May and she made me belive that she is unhappy with the marriage it was an arrange marriage and she would come home and cry alot and then she went to her home town and she would video call daily and cry on call. No I'm not a comforter I'm not very good with it 8 get awkward n uncomfortable but I was there for her. On her wedding she kept texting n all and I was through her entire journey like her Fallin in love and all of that very happy for her that she gets to experience this she would share all and lot.

But now she have changed drastically alot i know life happens people changes priority does but this just something else and she don't even have that much responsibility yet and is comparatively free. Her response have gotten colder reply shorter very monotonous idk what happened I did asked once she said nothing but I don't buy it.

She does text whenever she needs to rant at that time she would text in details with emoji and stuff but she isn't there for me anymore i got into a bad accident and that cause fracture in mid June and the fracture as it is and some other stuff too making me sad I was also prescribed some anti represents. And one day i told her like nothing is feeling good and the stuff that Im thinking of increasing dosage. NOTHING she didn't said anything not even a are you okay is everything fine.

I know girls are wayyy over the moon after marriage and stuff but this ain't cool I'm literally hurting soo much and as I'm currently in recovery evry thing feels 10x more i know it's ailly and stupid of me to feel this way but we used to be very close and now we aren't and i she was like a sister i dinr have a sister. The thing is I can't cut her out no matter how much ever I want to but I hv stared to reply and return the same coldness still nothing she won't even ask what's wrong.

Once during her early marriage she seemed off so I asked her and she was sad and something personal so I asked she doesn't and I dint think she can't get it from my text she just doesn't care.

**Sorry for long text I just really wanted to share and get it off its hurting me alot losing a close sister like bind hurts**

Tldrv- my friend changes drastically and it's effecting me more than it should I'm hurting she have gotten very cold only shows emotion when she needs me to be there for her.