Scary experience with an acquaintance

I just want to say that I have noticed that you have put effort into being self aware and also making changes in terms of your own behaviors that can cause problems. You have been making progress and in this situation, while getting so caught off guard by this person’s horrible behavior and very disorganized state, you handled it rather well. Not reacting and making an exit as quickly and safely as possible is really the best way to handle that type of situation

In your effort to recover yourself and process you also did well in realizing this is not your fault and there are things you can do to prevent this type of experience in the future.

I see your processing showing more self awareness and growth and maturity. 😉👌

That's so true, @Open Eyes that academic or professional pedigree doesn't necessarily mean that the person has good moral character. As I learned first-hand, just because she has a juris doctor, an MFA, and famous relatives, doesn't mean she has good moral character. An emotionally healthy person would have handled my visit and their personal family relationships differently around out of town visitors. At least I know that I would. I think she gets by on her laurels (financially, academically, and publicly) for a couple of reasons. Her last name opens doors and as we know, sycophants exist. They are the bottom feeders of society and their financial motivation means they will exploit whomever helps them earn more $ and get promotions. I think she is so used to people treated her with special treatment, that she is not used to being knocked off her pedestal by mere humble mortals like myself. She can yell and scream because she's entitled...as her last name permits it.

When we walked on her porch, she commented that "I could do a finger painting and sell it for money because you know...". I just stayed silent, unimpressed and put off by her haughtiness. I thought, really? She was intentionally sat in front of her house in her hard, hand painting a side profile portrait of her great grandfather. I felt like the narrator character in F. Scott Fitzgerald's novel about the delusion of the great American dream, in "The Great Gatsby." She is my version of The Great Gatsby; someone sheltered from the real world who takes advantage of her inherited wealth and prestige and reputation without ever having to prove herself. And when confronted with proving herself, she falls short of respectful, empathetic, and moral. She's a combination of the main character and his love interest who is married to someone else, who loves only wealth and the superficial. She can't be bothered sympathizing with the real world because that requires her to be held accountable for her actions.

I'm still searching for grief counselors and groups - to no avail. After my terrible experience with that grief group led by that unlicensed grad student, I am hesitant to want to sit and listen to complete strangers who may or may not be triggered by my grief story and lash out at me, traumatizing me even more than I already am by my mother's death. Last night, I cried as I listened to her voicemail where she reminisced about how happy she was that I was born, as a late birthday wishes voicemail. She died 7 days later in a hospital room, with my sister, while I was trapped in the hospital elevator with our sandwiches. At least I was there for her when she was cremated. At least I have her voicemails and can listen to her voice when I need her for comfort.

Thank you @Open Eyes. I have been on a journey to unlearn all the patterns, habits, and attitudes that I developed as coping mechanisms. They definitely don't serve me in my early 50s anymore. I'm ready to focus and finally become who I was meant to be all this time. So, I'm a little behind schedule but at least I'm on the right path, finally. Better late then never, as they say.

If I run across another person like my former friend, I will continue on my way without investing in any type of relationship with that person. I don't want to be around someone who reacts that way to my boundaries, being sarcastic and trauma dumping on me because I said "no."